Chapter 13 #2
"I'm going to miss them too. All of it. Even the annoying parts."
"Like Mrs. Henderson's unsolicited advice?"
"Especially Mrs. Henderson's unsolicited advice."
They climbed the stairs to their building—both apartments felt like home now, and they switched between them without thinking.
"Eleven days," Lucy said as they settled on Jake's couch.
"I'm counting too."
"Should we talk about logistics? Like, calling schedules and time zones and—"
"Lucy."
"Yeah?"
"Let's not spend our last eleven days together planning for when we're apart. Let's just be together."
Lucy nodded, curling into his side. "Okay. Being together. I can do that."
They fell asleep on the couch, some movie playing in the background, both trying not to think about how soon they wouldn't be able to do this anymore.
One week before Lucy left, Emma's hockey team had their last game of the season.
Jake and Lucy went together, bundled in winter coats, watching from the stands as Emma skated with confidence that hadn't been there at the beginning of the season.
"She's gotten so much better," Lucy observed.
"She works hard. Practices every day. Reminds me of someone."
Lucy elbowed him. "Are you comparing me to a seven-year-old?"
"I'm saying you both have that same determination. That refusal to give up even when it's hard."
Emma scored the game-winning goal in the third period. After the game, she skated over to where Jake and Lucy were standing.
"Did you see? We won!"
"I saw. You were incredible," Jake said.
Emma turned to Lucy. "Are you really leaving this week?"
"Monday. Early Monday morning."
"Will you write to me? From Paris?"
"Of course. I'll send you postcards of all the bakeries I visit."
"And you'll come back?"
"I promise. Six months. Then I'll be back to open my restaurant."
"Coach Jake says you're going to be the best chef in Vermont."
Lucy glanced at Jake, who was suddenly very interested in his coffee cup. "He said that?"
"He says it all the time. He's always talking about how proud he is of you."
After Emma skated away, Lucy turned to Jake. "You talk about me to the kids?"
"Sometimes. When it's relevant."
"What else do you say?"
"That you're brave. That you're choosing to grow even though it's scary. That sometimes the right choice is the hard one." Jake met her eyes. "That I'm lucky to know you."
Lucy kissed him right there in the rink, with parents and kids and coaches all around.
"I'm the lucky one," she whispered.
Lucy's last weekend in Timber Falls was a whirlwind of final preparations and goodbyes.
Saturday, she spent the entire day at the bakery with Sarah, going through everything one final time. Every recipe, every supplier, every quirk of the equipment.
"Lucy," Sarah finally said around 4 PM. "You've taught me everything. Three times. I promise I won't let you down."
"I know. I just—"
"You're stalling because leaving means this is really happening."
Lucy laughed, caught. "Yeah. That."
"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to grieve this even though you're excited for what comes next." Sarah pulled Lucy into a hug. "Thank you. For trusting me with this. I'm going to honor what you and your grandmother built."
Lucy cried. Again. She'd cried more in the past month than she had in the past five years.
Saturday night, Uncle Walter took Lucy to dinner—just the two of them.
"I'm proud of you, Lulu," he said over dessert. "Your grandmother would be too."
"I hope so."
"I know so. She always wanted you to have choices. To build your own life. That's what you're doing."
"I'm terrified."
"Good. If you weren't terrified, it wouldn't be worth doing."
Sunday was for Jake.
They spent the entire day together, doing nothing special. Breakfast in bed. A walk through town in the snow. Lunch at Mac's Tavern. An afternoon watching old westerns on Jake's couch.
"I want to remember this," Lucy said, curled into Jake's side. "Just normal. Just us."
"It'll always be us. Distance doesn't change that."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
That night, lying in Jake's bed, Lucy couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about tomorrow—the flight, the arrival, the new apartment, the culinary school. Everything unknown.
"Talk to me," Jake said into the darkness. "What are you thinking?"
"That tomorrow everything changes. That in twenty-four hours, I'll be in Paris. That we'll be an ocean apart."
"And?"
"And I'm scared. Not of Paris—of losing this. Of the distance changing things between us."
Jake pulled her closer. "Lucy, listen to me. We're not going to lose this. We're going to have to work at it, yeah. We're going to miss each other. But this—" he gestured between them, "—this is real. It doesn't disappear just because you're in Paris."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've never been surer of anything in my life. I love you. Not because you're convenient or nearby or easy. But because you're you. That doesn't change based on geography."
Lucy buried her face in his chest and let herself cry—all the fear and excitement and grief and hope spilling out.
Jake held her through it all, steady and certain.
"I love you," Lucy whispered when she could speak again.
"I love you too. Now, tomorrow, and every day you're in Paris. That's not changing."
They fell asleep wrapped around each other, and Lucy tried to memorize everything—the sound of Jake's heartbeat, the warmth of his arms, the feeling of being completely safe.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But tonight, they had this.
And it would have to be enough to last six months.
Monday morning arrived too soon.
Lucy's flight was at 8 AM, which meant they needed to leave for the airport by 5:30. Jake had barely slept, too aware that these were their last hours together for months.
At 4:45 AM, Lucy's alarm went off. Neither of them moved.
"We could stay here," Lucy said. "I could miss my flight. Cancel Paris. Keep everything the same."
"You don't mean that."
"I know. But it's tempting."
They got up slowly, moving through the morning routine they'd developed over the past three months. Jake made coffee while Lucy showered. Lucy made toast while Jake loaded her luggage into his truck.
Two massive suitcases. One carry-on. A purse stuffed with paperwork and her passport.
Her entire life, condensed into luggage.
At The Bread Basket, they found Uncle Walter, Rei, Mae, and half the Wolves team waiting in the pre-dawn darkness.
"We couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," Marcus said.
"You guys didn't have to—"
"Yes we did," Rei interrupted. "You're family."
They had coffee and pastries—Sarah had opened early to bake fresh croissants for Lucy's departure. Mr. Peterson showed up. Then the Knitting Circle. Then Giuseppe, who brought an entire bag of his "traveling food" that he insisted Lucy needed.
"The French have good food, Giuseppe," Lucy said, laughing through tears.
"Not as good as mine! You take this!"
At 5:30, it was time to go.
The goodbyes were long and tearful. Uncle Walter held Lucy for a full minute, whispering something in her ear that made her cry harder. Rei gave her a fierce hug and made her promise to video call every week. Mae handed her a care package full of American snacks and magazines.
"For when you're homesick," Mae explained.
Finally, just Jake and Lucy, standing by his truck while everyone else waited inside.
"This is it," Lucy said.
"For six months. Not forever."
"Six months. March for your visit. August when I come back."
"August when you come back," Jake confirmed.
They held each other in the cold January darkness, neither wanting to let go.
"I love you," Lucy said. "Thank you. For everything. For believing in me. For supporting this even though it's hard."
"I love you too. Go be amazing. Learn everything. Eat all the pastries. And Lucy?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't forget about us. About this. About Timber Falls."
"Never. This is home. You're home."
They kissed one last time—long and deep and full of promises.
Then Lucy got in the truck, and Jake drove them to the airport, holding her hand the entire way.
Burlington Airport was small and quiet at 6 AM.
Lucy checked her bags, got her boarding pass, and stood with Jake at the security checkpoint.
"This is where I have to leave you," Jake said.
"I know."
They stood there, holding hands, both trying to be brave.
"Text me when you land," Jake said.
"I will. And when I get to the apartment. And when I start school. I'll text you everything."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
"Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For letting me do this. For not making me choose between you and Paris."
"You don't have to thank me for that. This is what love is—supporting each other's growth even when it's hard."
Lucy hugged him one more time, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feeling of his arms around her.
"Six months," she whispered.
"Six months. Then you come home."
"Then I come home."
Lucy forced herself to step back, to let go, to walk toward security.
She looked back once. Jake was standing there, watching her, his hand raised in a wave.
Lucy waved back, then turned and walked through security.
She didn't look back again. If she did, she might not be able to leave.
On the plane, Lucy texted Jake.
Lucy: Made it through security. Boarding soon.
Jake: Good. Have a safe flight. I love you.
Lucy: I love you too. So much.
Lucy: I can do this, right?
Jake: You can do anything. You're the bravest person I know.
Lucy stared at her phone until the flight attendant made her put it in airplane mode.
Then she looked out the window as the plane took off, watching Timber Falls disappear beneath the clouds.
Six months. She could do six months.
She was choosing herself. Her dreams. Her future.
And Jake would be there when she got back.
She had to believe that.
Lucy closed her eyes and tried to imagine what came next—Paris, culinary school, adventures in a new country.
But all she could see was Jake's face. His smile. The way he'd looked at her this morning like she was the most important thing in the world.
Six months.
She could do this.
She had to.
Because this—Paris, growth, becoming who she was meant to be—this was the whole point.
Even if it hurt.
Especially because it hurt.
Lucy opened her phone's notes app and started writing—a letter to Jake, to herself, to the future.
Day One. I'm doing it. I'm choosing brave. And I'm choosing us. Six months. We can do six months.
She wrote until the flight attendant made her put her phone away for takeoff.
And then Lucy Chen flew toward her future, leaving her heart in Timber Falls.
Jake stood at the airport long after Lucy's plane took off, staring at the departure board like it might bring her back.
Finally, Marcus appeared at his elbow.
"Come on, man. She's gone. Let's get you home."
In the truck, Jake was quiet. Marcus, blessedly, didn't try to fill the silence.
Back at his apartment, Jake looked around at the space that had been theirs for the past few months. Lucy's coffee mug was still on the counter. Her toothbrush in the bathroom. A sweater draped over the chair.
Signs that she'd been here. That this had been real.
His phone buzzed.
Lucy: Landed in New York for my connection. Miss you already.
Jake stared at the message. Six months of this. Six months of texts instead of touching. Video calls instead of holding her.
He could do this.
He had to.
Jake: Miss you too. Text me when you land in Paris. I'll stay up.
Lucy: It'll be the middle of the night for you.
Jake: I don't care. I want to know you got there safe.
Lucy: Okay. I love you.
Jake: I love you too. Now go catch your flight to Paris. Go start your adventure.
Jake set down his phone and looked out the window at Timber Falls. The town that had been home his entire life. The town he'd chosen to stay in.
For coaching. For community. For the life he wanted to build.
And for Lucy. Always for Lucy.
Six months. He could survive six months.
And then she'd come home, and they'd figure out what came next.
Together.
Jake pulled out his laptop and opened his calendar. Marked the date six months from now—August fifth.
The day Lucy would come home.
He could make it until then.
He had to.
Because love was worth fighting for.
Even across an ocean.
Especially across an ocean.
Jake took a breath, opened his email, and started writing.
Dear Lucy,
Day one. You've been gone for three hours and I already miss you. But I'm also so proud of you for being brave enough to do this. Paris is lucky to have you...
He wrote until his alarm reminded him about afternoon practice.
Then Jake Morrison got dressed, drove to the rink, and started living the life he'd chosen.
Without Lucy. But not without love.
Never without love.
That would have to be enough.
For now.