Reflecting their own light: Rory and Logan

Chapter 28

"Doyle!" Paris yelled upstairs.  "I know he's here.  I demand you tell me where he is, Logan!"

"Paris?" I called from the landing.

"I know you're here!  Too scared to show your pathetic face?  Huh?  What are you doing here anyway?"

"Paris, calm down," Logan said.

She was already on the warpath.  We hadn't even figured out what happened or how to approach any of this.  How were we going to get her to calm down?  The doorbell rang.  This time it was the movers.  Logan let them in, and showed them to the baby's room.

"Paris, let's go into the living room," I suggested.

"Not until that little weasel shows his face!  DOYLE!"

"He's here, but you need to calm down."

"Why?  Why do I need to calm down?  And you!  You said you were Team Paris, and here you are harboring a fugitive!  How dare you let Doyle stay here?"

"You are being ridiculous!  He came here last night because he had nowhere to go.  I am on your team, Paris.  You want him back, right?"

"No...I...I don't know, Rory.  Our relationship is such a mess.  I don't know if any amount of CPR could save this marriage," she confessed.

"You don't know unless you try," I said.  "Just out of curiosity, how did you know Doyle was here?"

"There's a tracking app on his phone," she replied.

"A tracking app?  Really?  That seems a bit extreme, even for you."

"I know.  I thought he was having an affair.  As it turned out, the screenwriting was legitimate, and wasn't just a big rouse to cover for him cheating on me."

"I had no idea.  I don't think Doyle would ever do that to you.  You two have a lot to talk about and work out," I reply.

"You want to work this out?" Doyle said softly as he walked into the room.

"I don't know.  I have to think about this," she said, bluntly.

"Paris, I want to come home," he said, quietly.

"Doyle, I said I have to think about this!"

She started pacing.  I motioned for Doyle to leave.  I've known Paris for many years, and I know the signs.  She could explode any minute. He quietly left the room, heading for the stairs.  Her pace increased and the clicking of her heels could be heard despite the muffling properties of the carpet.

"How can he do this?  We've been living separate lives for over a year and now he wants to get back together.  He's crawling back to me and begging me to take him in, like he's a stray dog!  And the kids!  What am I supposed to tell them?"  She spoke loudly as she paced.

"Sit down, Paris," I said, indicating she sit next to me.  "Don't you love him?"

"Yes, but-"

"No buts, Paris.  Don't miss out on this because of your stubborn pride!"

"You're right, but it doesn't mean I can't make him sweat a little longer," she replied with a weak smile.  "Can he stay here for a few more days?  I can't say yes right away.  I don't want him to think he's won."

"It's not a contest," I rebutted.

"No, but a few extra days will let my bruised ego heal."

"Ok, if that's what you want," I replied.