A/N: Pushing them through some hurdles so we can get to what I know you're all anticipating! SOON. I'm not ready to end this story just yet ;) Oh and to my readers who have grown to love Leo, his backstory is revealed in this chapter. Enjoy! Thank you for reading, voting, and commenting!! Xo

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Jamie wasn't thrilled with the idea of selling our relationship for an interview. It took some convincing, a little begging, and a lot of time between the sheets, but he finally agreed. I tried to also remind myself that it would be worth it to open up a little and maybe calm unnecessary speculation. People would always speculate, but we could make it harder for them to back up their claims if there were quotes from the sources themselves; us.

After arriving back in New York, I met with Victoria to catch up on everything that had happened in our respective lives. Mine had been a whirlwind since I met Jamie, which she knew and understood, but I needed to do a better job of not letting my other relationships falter. It was refreshing to catch up with her; we had a heart-to-heart over a bottle of wine and pasta. She'd been such a positive supporter since Jamie had come into my life, and I was beyond ecstatic to have her stand beside me the day of our wedding. However, before we parted ways she'd given it to me straight, offering a sound piece of advice. Something to consider prior to moving forward with plans for the big day and the interview.

I twisted the key to unlock the door, stepping in to find Jamie with his feet on the coffee table, beer in one hand, television remote in the other.

"Hey baby," he said.

"Hi," I muttered. A residual scent of greasy pizza filled the air, and I smiled when I saw the box on the counter from our favorite place.

"How was dinner? How's Victoria?"

I walked through our apartment, setting my purse down in place of the pizza as I moved it to the refrigerator where it belonged.  I decided to go ahead and grab a beer to join him.

"Good," I said as the cold air rushed out when I closed the door. "Things are getting serious between her and that gym trainer. She introduced him to her fam over the holidays."

Walking back into the living room, I twisted off the bottle cap and plopped down on the chair diagonal from him. He broke his attention from the TV to smile at me.

"But I know you don't care about girl talk."

I kicked my shoes off, laying my legs on top of his. He turned off the TV before picking up my foot from his lap and began massaging it.

"I do care, actually. I'm glad she's happy. Where'd you end up going?"

I moaned softly as he pressed his strong fingers in all the right spots, trying to focus on the question. "The new steakhouse down the street. Pretty good food, we'll have to go sometime."

He switched to my other foot. "It's a plan. Speaking of plans..." he started, and I somehow knew what was coming. "We need to figure out the details for this interview. You're going to get hounded the instant someone sees you wearing my ring. The sooner everyone knows the better. No more hiding."

I sighed, he was right. We needed to get the ball rolling. I'd thankfully dodged the paparazzi thus far, but my luck would run out. "I know. But I wanted to run something by you first."

He briefly stopped rubbing, and I knew he was bracing himself for my next crazy idea. He eyed me suspiciously as his hands moved up my ankles to massage my calves.

"I think I want—" I wasn't sure how to word it. I felt like either way I was going to sound weak and vulnerable. "Well, maybe the two of us could—"

"Kels, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just think it'd be a good idea if we, or well I—"

He pushed my legs from his lap as he moved to grab my hand and pull me onto the couch beside him. He intertwined our fingers, kissing my knuckles sweetly. "Whatever it is, I'm here. Tell me."

"Victoria mentioned how much better she felt about some things in her past once she spoke to a therapist."

He wrinkled his forehead. "Do you want to see someone?"

I slowly nodded.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Therapy is completely normal. I saw someone for a while, back after my..." he trailed off, but I knew what he meant.

I squeezed his hand. "I'm nervous. Maybe even embarrassed, but I think I need it. I don't want my past to interfere with what we have. What we will have in the future."

"Baby, you worry about the wrong things. I'm not going anywhere."

I cleared my throat. "Will you go with me?"

"To your appointment? Absolutely."

"No, I mean like...go with me."

He lifted his chin to signal his understanding. "Do you think we need therapy?"

I shook my head. His self-deprecating demeanor was never too far. That was something we could work on as well, if I could mention it without offending him. Even I was guilty of the same behavior.

"Forget it. I shouldn't have asked."

"Don't," he whispered and met my gaze. I blinked back the tears that arose unwillingly.

"Jamie, we've been served quite a bit in such little time. Your car accident, shit with Brad, disrespectful paparazzi, drama with your ex-wife, taking on a child; I really think it'd do us good to talk everything out with a professional. It'll only bring us closer."

"Closer?" he scoffed. "We're getting married! I can't imagine getting any closer than that."

His reaction to my suggestion wasn't what I expected. "I think it would strengthen our bond. We can work through my trigger issues, and you can be there to talk through anything that's been on your mind. Maybe we can also ask her for advice on the interview."

"Her? You already found someone? I thought you just discussed this with Victoria tonight?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while. So I did my research and found someone who's dealt with high profile clients before. Victoria only helped me confirm it was a good idea."

"You've been thinking about professional help for a while and never said anything to me, your fiancé?"

I swallowed the lump that had formed. "Why are you upset at me over this?"

He released our hands to run both of his through his hair, taking a long, deep breath. "I'm not up—" His eyes met mine. "I'm sorry, I just didn't realize..."

"There's nothing to realize, babe. I truly think I need some extra support and guidance."

"Have I not been supportive enough? Was it because I left you alone too much in Belfast?"

What the hell? His insecurities were like a knife to my heart. I found them useless, because he was my entire world, and I couldn't find a single fault in him.

"No! For God's sake, me wanting therapy has nothing to do with a lack of anything on your part. If that were true I wouldn't have invited you to go!"

He stood abruptly, turning his back to me. "I don't want to go through that again."

Suddenly a realization hit me; maybe therapy was his trigger. "Oh," I whispered, "because of your mom."

"No, because of my ex." He faced me, and I saw the hurt reflected in his gaze.

There it was. The truth.

"I wasn't aware that you—"

"No one knew. She begged me to go because she thought it would save our marriage. All it did was expose how unfit we were for each other. I learned so much shit about the both of us during that experience that I told myself I'd never do it again. I'd never let someone need therapy because of loving me."

"Jamie!" I said sternly, causing his eyes to widen. I rose to my feet to stand with him, placing my hands on his chest. Instinctively he enveloped me in his strong arms.

"You are NOT the reason I want therapy. In fact, your love is the reason I've waited this long to suggest it. Because I didn't think I needed it anymore. I thought you had loved me hard enough to suppress all of those awful memories. And for now, you have. But baby, I'm scared that won't always be the case. I don't want to push my husband away or our kids because something triggers a dark moment from my past. It's not fair to future us."

"I love you," he quickly confessed. "I want you to lean on me and need me when life gets hard. I will carry you through anything."

Tears stung the corner of my eyes, but I kept them at bay. "I love you too, and I do need you. More than you could ever know, but you can't burden yourself with issues beyond your control. Please go with me. Just once."

He sighed, cocooning me like a safety blanket. "Will you still marry me if I don't?"

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"

"Fine."

I raised my eyebrow in question. "Fine what?"

He smiled. "You're mocking me."

"You mocked me first."

"I'll go. But because you asked me to, not because we need it."

"We most certainly don't need it. I think we're disgustingly perfect for each other."

"Sickening in all the right ways," he agreed as he leaned in to kiss my lips.

***

"How are the wedding plans coming along?" Dr. Bailey asked.

"Um..." I responded on our behalf, "we haven't really done anything except enjoy our engagement."

Jamie squeezed my hand from his spot beside me on the large white sofa. We were on our third appointment with the therapist and it had gone better than I'd imagined. We'd both opened up about some of our lingering fears, how quickly we'd fallen for each other, and he'd been freely sharing memories of his mom. I was honored to finally get more glimpses into my future husband's past. Like I'd told him, these sessions would bring us closer, and that was proving to be true with every visit.

Dr. Bailey was warm and patient. She let us speak our minds, politely nodding along before offering her input. Her office was lovely as well, not stuffy or cliché. It was tucked in a corner space of a high rise with floor to ceiling windows and magnificent views of the city; even better than our apartment. The walls were painted a light green while a faint scent of eucalyptus filled the air. She had travel photographs hanging throughout, as well as family photos proudly on display with her diplomas. She sat across from us on a white leather chair, a glass tabletop separating us with cups of hot tea sitting atop. I'd never imagined a therapist's office to feel so cozy and inviting. I knew it was strategically done to relax her clients, and from my perspective it was working.

"There is nothing wrong with that," she answered. "I've known couples to be engaged for a couple of years before tying the knot. The important thing is that you both do it on your terms. After all, it is your special day, no one else's." Her genuine smile was reassuring.

"I can't imagine waiting years!" I replied, looking to Jamie. "I've already waited my whole life for him. But I do want it to be a fairytale."

His eyes were alight with joy. "I guess that makes me Prince Charming," he joked.

"I have to ask," Dr. Bailey interjected. "You seem to be handling your relationship quite well with the press by avoiding their acknowledgment. Why suddenly an interview?"

"Ooh yes, good question doc," Jamie added.

I took a deep breath and shrugged. "I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I owe it to us. I owe it to him for all he's done for me."

"You don't have to tell me in an interview, baby, and you definitely don't owe me or anyone else a thing."

Dr. Bailey moved her attention to him. "Jamie, as much as I know Kelsey appreciates your loving words, maybe there's more to it?"

"Is there more to it?" he asked me directly.

"I want to do this...for us," I told him. "Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely." He didn't miss a beat.

"Then you have to trust I know what I'm doing."

Dr. Bailey cleared her throat to bring our attention back to her. "I would be more than happy to help coach you both on how to respond to their questions."

"Actually," I said, "do you know if we have the authority to approve the questions they'll ask?"

Jamie went to respond at the same time, and I figured maybe I could've just asked him.

"Of course you do," she answered. "In fact, most couples and celebrities demand it. Consider someone like say, Ellen DeGeneres. She sits down with her guests backstage before every show and they run through how the interview will go. Most celebrities will screen, or have their publicist's screen the questions beforehand, but that final meeting prior to show time is their last chance to say yes or no to anything she's planning to ask. But the simple answer to your question is yes, a contract can be made to ensure the writer and/or interviewer doesn't stray from the agreed plan."

"That's comforting," I said. "I want to write the questions."

"You want to write them?" Jamie asked. "They won't let you do that."

"Well," Dr. Bailey argued, "it can be settled in such a way. I'm not sure you can tell them what to ask word-for-word; however, like I said before, they can be advised what are acceptable topics and no-go subjects."

"Your ex is a no-go," I blurted.

Dr. Bailey and Jamie looked between each other.

"That's understandable," she said before he could respond. "If the interview is about the two of you then it needs to stay that way. Including a past marriage can taint the image and message you are trying to send. Plus it'll open doors to uncomfortable questions to follow. It's best to focus on your relationship and future."

"Is everything okay?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, catching my eye contact. His expression was etched in concern. How could he read me like his favorite book?

My internal battle suddenly rose to the forefront as the pros and cons to my confession weighed themselves heavily. I stared into his captivating blues and lost myself. He'd laid so much on the table during our first two visits; it only felt right that I met him halfway. Could I carry my secret forever? Would that eventually jeopardize our relationship? What if we were arguing and I threw it in his face? It was better to get it all out while everything was smooth between us. And better not to start our marriage by keeping things from each other.

"I'm not really sure how to approach what I want to say," I admitted.

Dr. Bailey's brows furrowed like Jamie's. "By your change in tone I assume it is a sensitive subject?"

I nodded and he shifted sideways so he could look at me head on, which only made my nerves skyrocket.

"Would you rather discuss this privately?" she asked.

"No," Jamie and I both answered at the same time.

"I can handle it," he assured.

"I should've told you sooner," I began, and I watched the color drain from his face. "Please don't panic."

"Baby, say it. We'll be fine."

"Jamie," Dr. Bailey interrupted.

He slowly removed his gaze from mine to meet hers.

"This is clearly weighing heavily on Kelsey. Try to keep in mind how difficult confessions can be face-to-face with your loved ones."

He halfway nodded then looked back to me.

"I found out your ex was setting us up with the paparazzi."

His color came back in the form of red, and he tightly closed his eyes before answering. "What?! How do you know she was working with them?"

"She found out where we were and tipped off the paparazzi every time. Only in London, which is why—"

"They kept tracking us down," he finished my thought for me, sighing loudly.

"How did you discover this information, Kelsey?" Dr. Bailey asked.

"A close family friend. I jokingly asked him if he thought it was bizarre that we were only being photographed in London and he pursued my questioning without my knowledge. Later he told me I was right and she admitted her mistake."

"Who?" he asked.

"Um," I hesitated, knowing since I'd taken it to that point I'd have to go all the way with the truth.

"I hate to do this," Dr. Bailey chimed in, "but we're out of time for today. I'd be more than willing to push my next appointment back thirty minutes if you'd like to continue our discussion?"

"That won't be necessary," Jamie concluded. "Thank you for your time."

He pulled me up from the couch and toward the exit. "See you next week," I quickly told her.

"I expect a full report on how this conversation ends."

He walked us out into the hallway and straight toward the elevator. No one joined as we stepped into the small space. I could feel the adrenaline radiating off of him.

"Who's the close family friend?" he finally asked again once we began descending.

"Promise you won't be mad?"

"I will do my best. But I can't promise I won't be inclined to act on this information."

"Leo," I whispered, and almost hoped he hadn't heard me. But of course he did.

"He talked with her about this?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you talk to me about this?"

The elevator doors opened, so I held in my response as we made our way through the lobby. Her office was inside a building only a few blocks from our apartment, which allowed us to walk instead of dealing with city traffic.

We both put our sunglasses on as I tried to keep up with his brisk pace. I could tell by his sudden silence he didn't want to risk someone on the street overhearing our conversation. We bit our tongues as we headed back home.

I followed behind him to the elevator in our complex. He ran his hand through his hair on the ride up, clearly waging his own war.

"Jamie," I began.

"Wait," he ordered.

His swift response took me aback. I certainly knew he wouldn't be pleased with the information, but I didn't want us to reverse the progress we'd recently made.

He unlocked the door and ushered me in. "Now, spill it."

"I already told you. I was joking in the car one day that we only seemed to run into the paparazzi in London and that someone must be setting us up. We both kind of had the same thought at the same time that your ex could actually be doing such a thing. I didn't prompt him to, but he went ahead and confronted her about it when we were in Belfast. He promised she nor the paparazzi would be a problem for either of us again."

He shook his head, likely in disbelief. "What has Leo done?"

"Nothing apparently. Or everything, one of the two, because she didn't tell you about it and I figured that'd be the first thing she'd do."

"You're right, she didn't say anything. She was actually very supportive when I told her about our engagement. I thought she'd meant it, but now maybe not."

"You don't know that for sure," I said. Although I wasn't convinced she was thrilled about us getting married. "Maybe it was a mixture of both."

"God, what the hell do I say to either of them?"

"Thank you?" I shrugged.

He chuckled, scratching the side of his face. "I suppose that might be the only worthwhile response. Especially if it means we'll be left alone. However, I need to find out how the fuck she knew where we were going if neither of us told her."

"Turn off your location settings on your phone."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Is there more to this story?"

"No, but I've been tracked before. I'm sure that's how she knew." I swallowed hard. "And I know that's how you can disable it."

His expression softened. "Oh, baby." He wrapped me in a tight embrace, kissing my hair sweetly. "We sure know how to attract them don't we?"

I giggled against his chest. "Is that a trick question? Because we attracted each other."

He leaned back to look at me. "Valid argument."

"Please don't be mad at Leo, or me, or her for that matter. It's over. It was handled, so no need to beat a dead horse."

He rolled his eyes. "Leo really has gained your affection hasn't he?"

"I am pretty fond of him, yes. He cares about my future husband a lot."

His wide grin returned. "He's the best man I've ever known besides my dad."

I kissed his chin. "Who is Leo to you?" I'd wanted to ask him that since he'd introduced us.

"Like you said, a close family friend."

"So you don't want to tell me?" I wrinkled my nose in disapproval.

He shrugged before responding. "He was my mum's childhood neighbor and dearest mate."

My heart skipped a beat at the information, but he continued before I could react.

"He was my dad's best man in their wedding. I don't know...he was always there for them. Her passing tore him apart. I'd even go as far as saying he mourned longer than some of my blood relatives. They were extremely close. He helped my dad a lot afterward, and was around to support my sisters and me while we went through the motions. We called him Uncle Leo for years; he was our savior. He drove me to every therapy appointment, and we'd stop for ice cream after, sitting in the car with the music drowning out our emotions.

Then when I decided to pursue a Hollywood career, he said he wanted to support me. I didn't know how to let him, so he took on a bunch of roles himself, and he's been there every single day since. He tries to keep it a professional relationship, but as you can see, he has many emotional ties. Leo steps in when my dad is too far away to. Never married or had kids of his own to care for. He said he promised my mum when she was ill that he'd look after her only boy, and he has done exactly that ten fold. To the point where I could never repay him enough. I love him, Kelsey. He's family."

I wiped his free flowing tears away with my thumbs. It all made sense; Leo's approval of me, his protection of Jamie, his need to put his ex in her place. He hadn't only adopted Jamie into his life; he'd adopted me, too. We were his family. The thought shook me to the core.

"Anyone who can love another's child like their own is a saint in my book."

"Like you?" He winked.

"I suppose I am pretty angelic."

We both laughed before I kissed him sweetly, a silent thank you for giving himself to me and trusting me explicitly. I was never more prepared to claim him publicly than I was in that moment.

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