Emma drove home with her thoughts running wild, as tears tracked down her cheeks. She should have known things were going too well. Despite trying to convince herself, and everyone else, that she wasn't ready for a serious relationship, she was quickly falling for Killian. They had shared some very special moments with each other in the last few weeks.

She fondly remembered their first date, and how he had carefully planned everything. He was always so easy to talk to, and so considerate and sweet. They had many long conversations, and had learned a lot about one another.

She'd felt honored that he wanted her to be at his medal ceremony, and had enjoyed their dinner with David and Mary Margaret afterwards. Then there was the kiss in front of the clinic. Emma sighed as she thought about it, and how she'd wished that it could last forever.

That thought had her mind racing and moving in a different direction. Forever. That was the problem. They'd agreed that they were going to take things slow, but Emma was now aware that she'd begun hoping for something more long term with Killian - much more long term.

She replayed the showdown that Killian had had with Milah the day before. He'd seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her by repeatedly telling her to leave. Yet he still kept her picture, which was confusing. Why was he holding onto something that was a reminder of the woman who had hurt him so badly?

The more she thought about it, the more muddled her thoughts became. By the time she reached her house, she'd decided that she needed some time away. She called Ashley and left a voicemail asking her to cover her existing patients for two or three days, since they would only need to follow their established exercise routines, but to reschedule the one requiring an evaluation.

The next call she made was to her father. "Hey Dad. How are you?"

Marco's soothing voice, with his own special dialect, came across the line. "I'm good, Cygnet! And how are you?"

Emma smiled at his nickname for her. It was such a small thing, but she remembered when he first started using it soon after she was adopted. For some reason, it had made her feel special - like she was truly part of the family.

"Is it okay if I come home for a few days?" she asked, deliberately avoiding his question.

"Of course it is! Your room is always ready for you! When will you be coming?"

"Tomorrow wouldn't be too soon, would it?"

"Not at all! I wish it could be even sooner!"

"It could be, if you like. I don't...I'm not doing anything tonight."

"Excellent! I'll be so happy to see you!"

"Do you mind if I bring Evie?"

"I would love to see my grandpup! Is something troubling you, my dear girl?" he asked with a worried tone. It wasn't like her to visit on the spur of the moment.

"I just...I need a little time away from here."

"You can stay as long as you like. I'll have dinner waiting when you get here."

"You don't have to bother, I can pick something up on the way," she responded, even though she knew she wouldn't. She didn't feel like she could eat anything with the way her stomach was churning right now.

"Nonsense. It won't be much, but I'll be happy to have company. Your brother is rarely home these days since he's been seeing Claire. Be careful on your drive, my girl. I'll see you very soon."

"Okay, see you in a couple of hours, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too, Cygnet."

She threw some clothes and essentials into one bag, and some of Evie's toys and her food into another.

Just as she was getting ready to take her puppy outside before they left, her phone started to buzz. She looked at the screen and saw Killian's name. Her finger hovered over the 'accept' button before hitting 'dismiss' instead. Then she hooked Evie's leash onto her collar and took her out, leaving her phone on the kitchen counter.

When she got back inside, she tapped her phone screen and saw that she had another missed call from him, plus a new voicemail, and a text message. She chose not to check either of them, and dropped the phone into her purse. Then she put Evie into her little traveling bag, loaded her car, and left.

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Killian knew she was avoiding him. When she didn't answer his first call, he tried again, leaving a voicemail telling her he was sorry and asking her to please return his call. Then he followed it up with a text.

He felt so stupid. When she'd asked him why he kept that picture, he didn't know what to say. Why had he kept it? All it did was remind him of someone whom he'd trusted with his heart, and who had shattered it into a thousand pieces. Maybe that was the answer. He didn't want to forget that trusting someone could lead to pain. But it didn't have to, did it? He wasn't so sure. He was just starting to open up to Emma, and now she was gone. Hopefully not for good, but gone all the same.

Her other question had him thinking, too. Did he still love Milah? He could have easily and truthfully told her no, but he hadn't. It wasn't because he wasn't sure. He'd hesitated because he was trying to figure out if he ever truly loved her in the first place. He was sure he knew the answer to that as well.

Killian gave another tug to his hair, which was a mess due to his constant pulling on it ever since Emma walked out the door. Then he picked the picture up off the bed and threw it into the trash can beside the desk.

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When Emma arrived at her dad's house, she climbed out of her car and was immediately pulled into a hug by her father. She let herself absorb his warmth for several long seconds, then stepped back to look into his kind, gentle face.

"Welcome home, Cygnet."

"Thanks Dad." She opened the passenger door to get Evie out, while he walked around to the trunk to get her bags. Emma put the puppy's leash on and let her sniff around the front yard for a while. After the long drive, she knew Evie would need a little time to release her pent-up energy.

Marco came back outside after putting his daughter's things in her room. He tried to pet the puppy, who was too busy playfully jumping around and spinning in circles to let him. He and Emma both laughed at the little dog's antics.

When they finally went into the house, Marco got busy making grilled cheese sandwiches, and instructed Emma to get a container of coleslaw out of the refrigerator.

"As I mentioned, it's not much, but there are cookies Claire baked that we can have for dessert. She's a sweet girl, and August is happy."

"He seems to be whenever I talk to him."

"And how about you, Emma? Are you happy?"

She considered her answer. She could almost be truthful and say yes, since she had been until a few hours ago, or she could be completely truthful. "I'm not sure right now," she conceded.

Marco placed his hand over hers on the table. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Emma wrapped her fingers around his calloused thumb and squeezed. "Not yet, if you don't mind."

"Of course not. You take all the time you need. I'm here whenever you're ready."

Emma enjoyed their simple meal, realizing that her father knew exactly what to make for her. They spent the evening watching DVDs of Marco's favorite, "The Carol Burnett Show". Both of them laughed until they were wiping tears at the shenanigans of Tim Conway and Harvey Korman.

When she bid her father goodnight and headed upstairs to her old bedroom, she was grateful that he hadn't pushed her to talk. Instead, he provided her with several hours of laughter, which was just what she needed.

She set Evie's crate beside the window seat that Marco had built for her when she was a teenager. As she ran her hand over the cushioned top of it, she remembered all the hours she spent there, reading and dreaming of what her life would be like when she grew up. Some of her favorite books were the ones that ended with "...and they lived happily ever after."

She sighed as she crawled between the covers of her comfortable double bed. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever have her own 'happily ever after.'

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Emma was abruptly awakened the next morning by a pounding on her bedroom door that set Evie off on a barking frenzy. As she was scrambling to get the puppy out of her pen before she hurt herself, August burst into the room.

"Seriously Aug? What the hell? Why can't you just tap on the door, or better yet, bring me a cup of coffee to wake me up?"

"What fun would that be, Sis? When did you get here, and why are you here?"

"Ugh! Too many questions for this early in the morning! I need to take Evie out before she gives me a reason to have to clean this carpet. She's way too excited, thanks to you!"

"I can take her out while you get dressed. Dad's getting breakfast and coffee ready." He took the pup and left the room.

Emma threw on some yoga pants and a T-shirt, and headed downstairs. She hadn't slept very well, and was in need of some caffeine.

"Ah! My lovely daughter!" Marco greeted.

"She didn't act very lovely towards me!" August complained, handing Evie off to his sister.

"That's because you were being obnoxious, as usual!"

"Kids, kids!" their father chuckled, obviously happy to hear his two children bickering with each other again. "Come, your breakfast is ready."

Emma was glad that August didn't ask her any more questions while they were eating. The reprieve didn't last long though. As they were doing the dishes, he asked, "So, not that I'm not happy to see you, but what brings you home?"

"Can't I just come and spend some time with my family?"

"'Of course! It's just that it was rather sudden."

"Um, yeah, I just needed to... get away for a little while." She wiped her hands on the dish towel and dropped it on the counter. "I'm not ready to talk about it right now."

August placed the plate he had just dried into the cupboard, then pulled his sister into a hug. "Well, I'm here for you, and so is Dad. We love you, Em."

"I know, and I love both of you too."

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August's girlfriend came over that afternoon and Emma instantly liked her. She seemed to be a perfect match for her brother, and even joined in when Emma was teasing him. The four of them played cards, but Emma was having trouble concentrating because she kept thinking about the events from the previous day.

"That's the third trick that you've let me take from you, Em," August said, scooping up the set of cards that he'd just won in the Euchre round.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, about that, Dad," she apologized to her partner.

Marco chuckled good-naturedly. "I think your mind is somewhere else today, eh Cygnet?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. I'm gonna go get a bottle of water. Anyone else need anything?" she asked, pushing her chair back from the table.

When no one took her up on her offer, she headed into the kitchen. Pulling her phone out of the waistband of her pants, she saw that she had two more missed calls and more messages from Killian. She also had texts from Mary Margaret and Ruby, and a message from Ashley saying that her schedule was covered through Wednesday.

She sent a quick response to both of her friends, telling them that she was staying with her dad and brother for a few days, but didn't give them any other details. She was tempted to open Killian's messages, but ultimately decided against it. She locked her phone, then grabbed some water out of the refrigerator and went back to the dining room to rejoin the game.

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"I like Claire," Emma told August after he came back into the house from saying goodbye to his girlfriend. It was late evening, and their father had already gone to bed.

"Yeah, so do I. A LOT!" he grinned.

"I'm glad you found someone, Aug."

"You don't really seem like it."

Emma reached for his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry. I am happy for you. I just...I thought I had found someone too, but, um... I think I was wrong."

"Ah, thus the reason you're here, right?"

"Yeah. I just needed to get away for a while, to do some thinking." She twisted the cap on and off her water bottle a few times before she started to speak again. "His name is Killian and he's a former patient of mine."

"Wouldn't be the guy with the amputated hand, would it?"

Emma gave him an embarrassed smile. "That's the one."

"I know you better than you know yourself!" August teased. "So, do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

She gave him a brief summary of what had transpired between her and Killian the last few weeks, and ended by telling him what happened at his hotel room.

August sat quietly for a while after she finished. She tried not to fidget, because she knew that he was thinking. Finally, he cleared his throat. "It sounds to me like he doesn't love this woman at all, Emma. In fact, he pretty much sounds like he loathes her."

"Then why does he still keep her picture?" she asked angrily.

"He'll have to explain that to you."

"But he didn't! I kept asking him and he wouldn't say anything!"

"Did you give him time, or did you take off before he had a chance?"

"He had time, he just...he just...whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Calm down, Sis! I am always on your side. But I know that when you get upset, you tend to turn and run. He was probably caught by surprise and couldn't respond quick enough. Do you think maybe it's possible that he would've answered you if you'd given him more time?"

"I felt like I gave him plenty of time!" August quirked an eyebrow at her. "Okay, fine. I probably should have been more patient. But that still doesn't explain why he wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked if he still loves her!"

"Why does he have to come right out and say, 'No, I don't love her anymore'? From what you told me about his confrontation with her, he said he didn't love her numerous times, just not in those exact words. Give the guy a break, Emma. You're not the only one who's risking opening up your heart again after it's been broken."

Emma began gnawing on her bottom lip, which August knew was a sign that she was contemplating what he'd said. After several long moments, she finally looked up at him.

"Do you think I screwed everything up?" she asked in a small, broken voice.

"Has he tried to contact you at all since you left?"

"He's tried to call a few times, and he's left voicemails and texts," she admitted.

"And let me guess - you haven't answered any of them?"

Emma's face reddened. "No. I don't think I'd know what to say anyway."

August stood and pulled his sister up into a hug. "It doesn't sound like he's given up on you. Stay here and lick your wounds for another day or two while you think about it, but don't let it drag on for too long. I'm betting that he's just as miserable as you are."

Emma nodded but didn't answer since her throat was clogged with emotion. August released her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Are you gonna be alright if I go to bed?"

She nodded again, and he turned to go. He was almost out of the room when he heard her say very quietly, "Thanks, Augie Doggie."

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The next morning, August briefed his dad on what was going on with Emma. She wasn't up yet, and they had decided to let her sleep as long as she wanted. August figured that with all the thoughts swirling around in her head, she probably didn't go to sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

He didn't go into a lot of detail, but he knew that Marco was worried about his daughter, so he gave him just enough information to fill him in a little bit. He knew that she would talk to their dad eventually, but he wished in times like these that their mother was still around. She always had a way with Emma that calmed her and helped her find solutions to her problems.

After August left for work, Marco stayed in the house instead of heading to his workshop. When he heard Emma stirring around, he prepared a breakfast tray and took it up to her room. Knocking lightly on her door, he waited until he heard her say, "Come in."

She was still laying in bed, but he could tell that she'd been awake for a while. "I've brought you something to eat. I also thought perhaps I could take care of Evie for a while, so you could have some time to yourself."

"That would be great. I feel bad that she's had to wait so long to be let out of her pen."

"Tis only nine o'clock, my dear girl. I'm sure she's fine, aren't you little one?" he said while he unfastened the puppy's cage. Emma laughed as he tried to corral the wiggling, licking ball of fur.

"You take all the time you need today, Cygnet. Rest and relax. All your good friends are still waiting for you." He nodded at her overstuffed bookshelves.

She bit into a piece of bacon. "Thank you, Dad. I think I'll put my window seat to use today."

He beamed at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek the best he could while holding an overexcited puppy.

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Emma emerged from her room around 3:30 in the afternoon. She had read, napped, and done a lot of thinking. She'd tried to avoid looking at her phone, but had finally given in and read Killian's texts. He was pleading with her to give him a chance to explain, and to let him know that she was okay. She felt guilty that she was making him worry for her safety, so she sent him a short message - 'I'm fine. I just need some time.'

She hadn't listened to his voicemails. She didn't think that she could handle hearing his voice just yet.

When Emma stepped into the kitchen, she was attacked by a white fur ball. Giggling, she picked Evie up and cuddled her. She noticed the ingredients her father was getting out of the cabinets, and could tell what he was going to prepare for dinner.

"You're making lasagna!"

"Yes! The noodles are already cooking, and the oven is on. Could you brown that meat for me?"

She set the puppy down and washed her hands before doing as he'd asked. They worked together to prepare one of her favorite meals, and Emma enjoyed the quality time with her father. When August got home, the lasagna, garlic bread and salad were already on the table.

That evening, they all watched a couple of August and Emma's favorite movies from when they were young. They were in bed by ten o'clock, but as soon as she was alone in her room, Emma's thoughts started spinning out of control again.

She had received an answer from Killian that simply said, 'I'm glad you're okay.' Her heart and her head were warring with each other about whether or not she should try to work things out with him. She admitted to herself that she missed him, and she wondered if he missed her, too.

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At lunch the next day, Emma finally opened up to her father. "I suppose August told you the reason why I came here," she said, pushing a green bean around her plate.

"He told me a little about...what is his name?"

"Killian."

"Ah yes, Killian. He didn't tell me all of your business, just enough so I would have an idea of what's going on."

"He could've told you everything, I don't mind."

"Maybe it would be better to hear it from you, instead of second-hand?" he inquired.

"Yeah, probably." She narrated the story to him, as he sat silently, taking it all in. She ended with, "I just don't know if it's worth it, Dad. What if I start a relationship with him and end up getting hurt again?"

Marco looked thoughtfully at his daughter for several moments. Then he suddenly stood up and said, "I'm making a cradle for Mary Margaret and David's little one. Would you like to come help me with it?"

Emma's brows rose in puzzlement. "Sure?" she said uncertainly, trying to figure out her father's sudden change in topic.

As they walked toward his workshop, he asked, "Do you remember how you used to come out here and help me when you were younger?"

"Of course. Those are some of my favorite memories."

They walked through the door and Emma inhaled the familiar smell of wood and varnish. She took a seat on the stool that was always her 'assigned' place. Marco walked over to a wall which had numerous pieces of wood leaning against it, and considered his options. Then he selected two pieces, carried them over, and laid them on the bench in front of his daughter.

"I want to use one of these boards to make the headboard for the cradle. Your friend still loves birds, doesn't she?"

"Yes! She drags poor David along with her to go bird watching at least once a month."

"Good, good! I'm going to carve birds into this headboard, but first I have to choose the best piece of wood for it. Let's see if you remember how to make the right choice."

Emma stood up and carefully looked at each board, turning them over and eyeing them from every angle. She finally picked one up and handed it to her father. "This one."

"Why did you select that one?"

"Because it's straight and the grain of the wood is good, without any knots. The other one," she turned and pointed to the one still laying on the bench, "is a little warped and has two knots in it right where you would be carving the picture."

Marco smiled and nodded. "That's right, my girl." He took the rejected board and tossed it on the discard pile. Then he examined the piece of wood that Emma had chosen. After a minute, he dropped it onto the same pile.

Her jaw dropped. "Wha...what are you doing?"

"Well, that one is rough and it isn't the shape I want it to be."

"But you can cut it into the right shape, and sand it down to be smooth! You can't just throw it away because it's not exactly the way you want it!"

"Ah, but that would take a lot of time and work. I'd have to be very patient and dedicated to create the headboard. Do you think it would be worth it?"

"Of course it would! That board will be beautiful once you work your magic on it."

"What I do isn't magic, it's hard work. But you're right - there is wonderful potential in that piece of wood, and it will be lovely when it's finished. If I wait until I find a board that is perfectly shaped and smooth, I may never find it, so I can take this one," he retrieved it from the pile, "and with love and care, form it into something special."

He gazed at his daughter. "Which board represents your relationship with Killian, Cygnet?"

All at once, it dawned on Emma the analogy her father was making. If what she had with Killian was going to turn into something good, they would have to work at it, and have patience to uncover its potential.

Her father gave her a chance to absorb his lesson, then continued, "Do you think that your mother and I started with a perfect relationship? No, it was rough and raw, but we knew that it was worth the work that we had to put into it. If we would have given up at the first sign of trouble, what would have happened? No marriage, eh? No August and no Emma. Do you think that you were worth the time and effort that we put into our relationship?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"And August, was he worth it?"

"Sometimes," she grinned.

Marco chuckled. "Only you know if what you and Killian have is worth working for. If the foundation is warped and knotty, no amount of work will fix it or make it better. BUT, if what you have is solid and of good quality, ah then, my dear girl, it can turn out to be a beautiful thing!"

Emma had once told Ashley that her father didn't know what to say to make her feel better, like her mother always did. Now, she realized that she'd been wrong. He had known exactly what she needed to hear, and at last she knew what she was going to do.

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David answered the knock at the door on Tuesday morning. "Hey! How...oh wow, man! You look terrible! What's going on?" He ushered his disheveled friend into the house and closed the door behind him.

"Sorry, Dave. I guess I shouldn't have come," Killian apologized. "I haven't gotten much sleep the past few nights."

"Looks like you lost your razor and comb, too," his friend teased.

"Yeah," Killian chuckled weakly. "I guess I could claim I lost it in the move, but…"

"Come sit down and tell me what happened."

Killian followed David into the kitchen and took a seat on a bar stool. David held up the coffee pot and a mug as a silent question, and his friend nodded. Just as he took his first sip, Mary Margaret appeared in the doorway.

"Good morn...oh! Killian, look at you! Are you okay?"

"Have you heard from Emma?" he asked, deciding to get right to the point.

"She texted me a day or two ago to say she was going to stay with her family for a few days. Why? Has something happened between the two of you?"

He nodded. "She was helping me unpack on Saturday, and she found a picture of Milah and me."

"Ouch!" David commented.

"Why did you still have it?" his wife asked.

"That's what Emma wanted to know. I didn't even know what to say. I guess...I guess it's just a reminder that some people can't be trusted."

"I'm sure she wasn't happy about finding it," David said.

"She wasn't. Then she asked if I still love Milah."

"I hope you told her no! You don't, do you?" Mary Margaret demanded.

"Of course not! I asked Emma how she could even think that, but she thought I was avoiding the question and not giving her a straight answer. What I was really doing was trying to figure out if I ever loved Milah in the first place. I've come to the conclusion that I didn't. I was just infatuated with her, and she absolutely never loved me. She made that painfully clear that day in the hospital, despite what she said last week."

"I take it you haven't talked to Emma?" David asked.

"I've tried calling her numerous times, I've left voicemails, and sent texts. All I've gotten in three days is a short text telling me she's fine and she just needs time. I don't know what to do."

David studied his friend. It was clear that this was taking a toll on him. "Is she worth it?"

Mary Margaret shot a look of betrayal at her husband. David shook his head slightly, letting her know that he had a plan.

"What?" Killian asked as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Is Emma worth fighting for? Or should you just let her go?"

Their friend took a slow, measured drink of coffee. Then he sat back in his seat, staring into space, deep in thought. Finally he sat forward again. "I think we had the beginnings of something really special in the making, before I went and messed it all up. I might have even been…" he paused.

"Falling in love with her?" Mary Margaret asked softly.

Killian looked at her. "Possibly."

"Then fight for her!" David exclaimed. "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets!"

Killian set his jaw and nodded decisively. After days of wrestling with his self-doubts, he finally knew what he needed to do, too.

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