When Logan came home in the evening, he immediately noticed the changed mood in the house. A strong feeling inside told him something was wrong. It was the strange silence that made him suspicious. Okay, the kids were probably in bed, but he was sure that Camille still had to be awake. But neither the TV nor the radio was on. He walked through the living room and saw light in the kitchen. Then he spotted Camille doing the dishes. Logan had known her for so many years that he could already tell from the tiniest little things that she wasn't doing well. Not sure how she would react, he paused a few feet away from her before saying, "I'm back."

"Yes." That's all she said. Worse, she didn't even turn to face him. Logan frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Sure."

He had no idea what was bothering her and decided to take a shot in the dark. "Are you mad because I left this morning? I know we agreed that the weekend is for family. That's why I called you to ask if it was okay for you. You said it wouldn't be a problem. So why are you-?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Logan," she interrupted brusquely.

"Oh . . . okay," he said, not sure if he should be relieved or just more concerned. "Do you want to tell me what's causing your mood?"

"No."

Logan sighed. "Are the kids in bed?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll check on them."

She didn't answer him, so he just walked away.

Luckily, Phillip was sleeping and didn't seem to notice the tense atmosphere in the house. Mia, however, was still awake and lying in bed with a picture book in her hands. Logan raised his eyebrows. "Well, shouldn't you be asleep already?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you mad?"

Logan had to smile. How often had he secretly read in bed as a child, even though his parents had already said good night to him? "No, I'm not mad." He sat down next to his daughter on the bed. "But tell me, sweetie, do you know if anything happened today that might have upset Mommy?"

Mia frowned, looking so much like her father in that moment that even Logan was surprised.

"Hmm . . . no, I don't think so . . . oh wait . . . after lunch today we were playing board games and then Mommy got a call. And then she wasn't so happy anymore. Is Mommy okay?"

Logan immediately tried to calm his daughter's concerns. "Yes, princess. Don't worry." He kissed her forehead and she put her arms around him.

"But do you know who called?"

Mia hesitated, then mumbled something that sounded like "Daddy". Logan frowned. "I called?" So he had been right in his assumption after all. Then why did Camille tell him it wasn't his fault? Did she lie? But Mia shook her head. "No, she got a call from her daddy."

"Oh . . ." Logan said, suddenly understanding the whole situation. He forced himself to smile. "Okay, sweetheart, like I said, you don't have to worry about Mommy. When you wake up tomorrow everything will be normal. And now it's really time to sleep."

Mia tilted her head to the side. "Ten more minutes?"

Logan chuckled. "Okay, princess. Ten minutes. But you have to promise me that you'll go to sleep afterwards, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy. I promise," Mia replied, beaming. Logan gave her another kiss. "Good night, sweetie."

"Good night, Daddy."

Logan closed the door to Mia's room and then leaned against it with his eyes closed. Camille's father . . . those weren't nice memories. For some reason he had never been able to accept Logan, so he forced Camille to choose. Camille chose Logan, and her father went back to Connecticut and cut off contact with her. Logan remembered all too well the first time after that when Camille had been devastated. But over time she seemed to get better again, but she had never been able to get over this completely. And so, in hindsight, Logan wasn't surprised that Camille had decided against him and for her career when he made the same mistake as her father, forcing Camille to make a decision as well. Logan opened his eyes and slowly walked down the stairs. He wondered why Mr. Roberts had suddenly called again.

Camille was still in the kitchen. Her palms were propped on the counter as she gazed out the window, lost in thought. It hurt Logan to see her like that. He cleared his throat. "Mia told me your father called . . ."

She tensed again. "I don't wanna talk about it, Logan."

"I know," he said quietly, but walked over to her anyway and pulled her close. He could feel her resistance, but didn't let go of her. And finally she gave in, pressing her face against his shoulder. Logan held her for a few more seconds, then he took her hand. "Come." He led her into the living room, sat down on the couch and pulled Camille onto his lap. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

She looked down. "It's a long story . . . You know, when you made me decide between you and my career, it reminded me extremely of my father. And when I was in Paris and pregnant with Mia . . . I was lonely and I thought we would be over for good. So I wrote my dad a letter and told him everything. At first I was afraid that he would reject me because Mia is your child. But he wrote back, telling me that he was glad I . . . well, that I'm not hanging out with you anymore and that I'm starting a new life. The contact between him and me was still a little strange, but I was glad that I wasn't alone anymore. We are still in touch, but I hadn't told him that we were back together and planning to get married. But now I wanted to change that. After all, he's my father and he should know I'm getting married. I have to admit that I was afraid of his reaction on the phone so I wrote him a letter two weeks ago. And today he called me . . ." She stopped, unable to continue. Logan pulled her as close as he could, kissing the top of her head. He hated seeing the love of his life so weak, so down and sad. This wasn't the strong, fun-loving, and absolutely amazing girl he'd met at the Palm Woods so many years ago.

"He probably wasn't very enthusiastic, was he?" he tried to help Camille. She laughed mirthlessly and shook her head. "He was so angry, he almost yelled at me. He asked me what I was thinking about giving up my wonderful life in Paris just for . . . well, just for you. I told him that I love you, our children and our friends more than anything and that I really wish that he would come to the wedding, no matter what had happened between him, you, and me before. Then he actually laughed. He laughed, Logan. Can you believe that? And then he said if I'm really that naive and want to ruin my life, he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. He won't come to the wedding; he doesn't even want to see Phillip. He said if I want to continue on this path, he can no longer be my father. Then he ended the call and hung up."

Logan was silent, shocked by what he had just heard. How could you say such things to your own daughter? Camille kept looking down. She was angry and sad, but she didn't cry. Logan knew she hated crying in front of him. "Baby . . ." Logan said in his softest tone and rubbed her back, feeling her instantly stiffen.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he asked confused.

"Don't tell me it's okay to cry. I don't want to hear that."

"But it is okay, Camille," Logan said firmly. "Besides . . ." He tilted his head so his lips brushed her ear and whispered, "I will always catch you when you fall."

That was all it took to make Camille lose her self-control. She closed her eyes, but couldn't prevent the first tears from falling. And Logan held her, comforted her, was there for her.