Chapter 8 #3
"And they were incredible. Better than good—they were art. That's you, Lucy. That's your skill." Jake took her hands. "You've been hiding behind your grandmother's legacy for five years. Using it as a shield so you didn't have to put yourself out there. But you're ready now. I can see it."
"What if I fail?"
"What if you succeed? What if you travel and learn and come back and open a place that's uniquely yours? What if you become known for your own recipes, your own vision?"
"That's terrifying."
"I know. But you know what's more terrifying? Staying here, keeping everything the same, and waking up at forty wondering what might have been."
Lucy felt tears slide down her cheeks. "When did you get so wise?"
"About five days ago when I turned down the NHL and decided to build the life I actually wanted instead of the one I thought I should want." Jake wiped away her tears with his thumb. "We're doing the same thing, Lucy. We're both choosing to stop hiding. To stop letting fear make our decisions."
"What if we're making a mistake?"
"Then we'll make it together. And we'll figure out what comes next."
Lucy kissed him then—grateful and scared and full of something that might have been hope. When they pulled apart, she was smiling through her tears.
"Okay. I'm going to do it. I'm going to call Shayna tomorrow and accept her offer."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And then I'm going to research culinary schools. And plan a trip—maybe Europe? Asia? I've always wanted to see the bakeries in Paris and Tokyo and Seoul."
"How long would you be gone?"
The question hung between them. They'd been together less than a week. What claim did either of them have on the other's future?
"I don't know," Lucy said honestly. "A few months? Maybe longer? I'd want to really immerse myself, learn as much as possible."
"And then you'd come back?"
"I think so. To open my own place. Something that honors my grandmother but is also mine." Lucy searched his face. "Would you wait for me? If I left for a few months?"
Jake was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Lucy, I waited three years to talk to you. A few months is nothing."
"That's not fair to you. To put your life on hold—"
"I'm not putting my life on hold. I'm living it. I'm coaching, I'm building something here. And when you come back, we'll see where we both are. No pressure, no expectations. Just... seeing what happens."
"You make it sound easy."
"It's not easy. It's terrifying. But I think maybe the best things are."
They went back to eating pizza and watching TV, but something had shifted. Lucy had made a decision. She was going to sell the bakery, take Shayna's offer, and figure out who Lucy Chen was when she wasn't just her grandmother's granddaughter.
It was the scariest thing she'd ever decided to do.
It was also long overdue.
Around 10 PM, Lucy's phone buzzed. Rei.
Rei: heard about the meeting. how did it go?
Lucy: Good. Really good. I'm going to take the offer.
Rei: LUCY. That's HUGE.
Lucy: I know. I'm terrified.
Rei: You should be. It means you're doing something that matters.
Rei: Does Jake know?
Lucy: Yeah. He's being amazing about it.
Rei: He's a keeper.
Lucy: I know.
Lucy set down her phone and looked at Jake, who was absorbed in the cooking show they were watching. His arm was around her shoulders, his thumb tracing absent circles on her arm. He looked relaxed and content and completely present.
This was real. What they were building was real. And maybe it was fast, maybe it was scary, maybe it would end badly.
But for the first time in five years, Lucy was choosing to risk it. To show up. To let someone in.
"Jake?" she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything. For believing in me even when I don't believe in myself."
"Always. That's what—" he paused, then smiled. "That's what people who care about each other do."
Lucy caught the hesitation. The word he'd almost said. It was too soon for that word. They'd been together less than a week.
But Lucy felt it too. The weight of it. The truth of it.
"Yeah," she said softly. "That's what people who care about each other do."
They stayed like that for hours—watching TV, eating pizza, existing in the quiet comfort of each other's presence. And when Lucy finally went home at midnight, climbing the stairs to her own apartment, she felt lighter than she had in years.
Tomorrow, she'd call Shayna and accept the offer. She'd start the process of selling her grandmother's bakery, of letting go of the past five years, of stepping into an unknown future.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But tonight, Lucy Chen was exactly where she wanted to be: present, alive, and finally ready to see what came next.
Friday morning practice was brutal.
Tommy had Jake running plays while explaining coaching philosophy, working with Owen on his positioning while teaching Jake how to give feedback that would actually land, managing the team's energy while learning how to read the room.
By 10 AM, Jake was exhausted and exhilarated in equal measure.
"You're a natural at this," Tommy said as they watched the team run drills. "You know that, right?"
"I feel like I'm drowning in information."
"That's normal. Coaching is ninety percent observation and ten percent knowing when to intervene. You're already good at the observation part—you've been studying the game your whole life. Now you're just learning to teach what you know."
After practice, Jake showered and checked his phone. A text from Lucy.
Lucy: Called Shayna this morning. I accepted the offer.
Jake's heart did something complicated. Pride mixed with fear mixed with excitement.
Jake: How do you feel?
Lucy: Like I just jumped off a cliff. Also like I can finally breathe.
Jake: I'm proud of you.
Lucy: Thank you. For everything. For believing in me.
Jake: Always.
Jake pocketed his phone and headed to his truck. As he walked through the parking lot, he passed Steve Kowalski's business card sitting in his cupholder—a reminder of the choice he'd made, the path not taken.
He didn't regret it. Not even a little.
His phone rang. His mom.
"Hey, Mom."
"Jake! I was just thinking about you. How are things?"
"Really good, actually. I'm learning to coach. It's hard but good."
"And Lucy? How's that going?"
Jake felt himself smile. "Also really good. She just accepted an offer to sell her bakery."
"That's wonderful! Is she happy about it?"
"I think so. Scared, but happy. She's going to travel, go to culinary school, figure out what comes next."
His mom was quiet for a moment. "And where does that leave you two?"
"I don't know. We're figuring it out. But Mom—I'm not scared. For the first time in my life, I'm not scared of what comes next. I'm just... here. Present. Living."
"Your dad would be so proud of you."
Jake felt his throat tighten. "I hope so."
"I know so. You chose the life you wanted. That takes courage." His mom paused. "When are you coming to visit? I want to meet this Lucy."
"Soon. Maybe next week?"
"I'll make your favorite. Bring Lucy if she's free."
After they hung up, Jake sat in his truck and looked out at Timber Falls. The mountains in the distance, the small downtown, the rink where he'd spent most of his life.
This was home. Not because he'd failed to leave, but because he'd chosen to stay.
His phone buzzed again. The team group chat.
Marcus: GAME TOMORROW NIGHT. Everyone better show up ready to play. We're 8-2 and I'm not letting that change.
Owen: I'M READY COACH STONE
Ryan: Technically Marcus isn't a coach
Marcus: I'm a spiritual coach
Jake: You're a goalie who talks too much
Marcus: Says the guy who literally never talks
Owen: Coach Jake talks to me! He helped me with my backhand yesterday and it was AMAZING
Dmitri: good job Reaper
Jake smiled and put his phone away. This was his team. His future. His choice.
Tomorrow they had a game. Next week, Lucy would start the process of selling the bakery. In a few months, she'd probably leave for culinary school or travel or whatever adventure she chose.
And Jake would be here. Building his life. Coaching hockey. Being present.
But tonight—tonight was theirs. Another evening together before everything changed. Another moment of being present instead of worrying about the future.
Jake drove to The Bread Basket. Lucy was behind the counter, helping a customer, flour on her cheek as always. She looked up when he walked in and her entire face transformed.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey. Wednesday lunch tradition? Or are we doing something different now?"
"I think we're making new traditions. Better ones."
"I like the sound of that."
Jake ordered six pork buns—some things never changed—and a black coffee. But instead of leaving, he sat at one of the small tables and waited for Lucy's break.
When she finally joined him, bringing two coffees and a plate of her butternut squash muffins, Jake realized something.
This was what he'd been missing for three years. Not the NHL, not the validation of making it, not the dream he'd been chasing since he was eight.
Just this. Sitting with someone who made him want to be present. Who made him want to show up to his own life instead of just enduring it.
"Jake?" Lucy said, studying his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm perfect, actually. For the first time in a really long time."
Lucy smiled—that genuine, unguarded smile that made Jake's chest feel too full.
"Me too," she said quietly. "Me too."
And sitting in The Bread Basket on a Friday afternoon, eating butternut squash muffins and drinking perfect coffee, Jake Morrison finally understood what his dad had meant all those years ago.
A man's gotta be what he is.
And Jake was finally figuring out what that meant.