Chapter 16
April in Paris was everything people said it would be.
The city bloomed—flowers in window boxes, trees lining the boulevards turning green, tourists multiplying by the day. Lucy's culinary program intensified as they approached their final months. Chef Laurent pushed them harder, expecting perfection in every dish.
Lucy rose to the challenge.
She worked twelve-hour days, perfecting techniques she'd never even heard of three months ago.
She learned to make pate à choux that was so light it dissolved on the tongue.
She mastered the art of French macarons—notoriously difficult, with their delicate feet and precise measurements.
She even earned grudging praise from Chef Laurent on her tarte au citron.
"You are becoming a real pastry chef," he said one afternoon, inspecting her work. "Not just a baker. There is a difference."
It should have felt like a triumph. Instead, Lucy just felt empty.
She and Jake texted sporadically. Nothing deep—just surface-level check-ins.
Jake: How's school?
Lucy: Good. Hard but good. You?
Jake: Season's almost over. Playoffs start next week.
Lucy: That's great! Good luck.
Jake: Thanks.
Conversations that said nothing. Conversations that avoided the question neither of them wanted to ask: What are we?
"You need to talk to him," Amelie said one afternoon over coffee. "Really talk. This limbo is making you miserable."
"I'm not miserable."
"Lucy. You worked for sixteen hours yesterday. You haven't taken a day off in three weeks. You're either avoiding him or avoiding the decision. Either way, you're avoiding."
"I'm just focused."
"You're hiding. There's a difference."
But Amelie was right. Lucy was hiding. From the decision, from Jake, from figuring out what she actually wanted.
Because the truth was becoming increasingly clear: Lucy could stay in Paris. Chef Laurent had made good on his offer—he'd connected her with three different Michelin-starred restaurants looking for pastry assistants. All three wanted to interview her.
Real opportunities. Real futures.
In Paris. Far from Timber Falls. Far from Jake.
"When do you have to decide?" James asked during their weekly study session. He'd become one of Lucy's closest friends—funny, self-deprecating, genuinely supportive.
"Technically? I have until the program ends in July. Practically? I should probably know before then if I'm staying or leaving."
"What does your gut say?"
"My gut says I love Paris. I love learning here. I love who I'm becoming." Lucy paused. "But my heart says I miss home. I miss Jake. I miss belonging somewhere."
"You belong here," Yuki said quietly. She rarely spoke, but when she did, everyone listened. "You fit in Paris. The city suits you."
Did it? Lucy wasn't sure anymore. Paris was incredible—beautiful, inspiring, challenging. But did it feel like home?
Or was she just running away from the hard choice of going back to Timber Falls and facing everything she'd left behind?
The Wolves made the playoffs for the first time in five years.
Jake should have been thrilled. This was a huge accomplishment—for the team, for Tommy's final season, for Jake's future as a coach.
Instead, he felt detached. Going through the motions. Coaching was good, the team responded to him, they were winning games. But something essential was missing.
"You're doing the thing again," Marcus said after their first playoff win.
"What thing?"
"The thing where you're physically present but emotionally checked out. The Reaper thing we thought you'd gotten over."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You haven't been fine since Paris. Talk to me."
They were in the locker room, the team celebrating in the showers. Jake sat on the bench, staring at his phone.
No messages from Lucy.
"I don't know what to do," Jake admitted. "I told her to take space. To figure out what she wants. But now I'm just—waiting. And I don't know what I'm waiting for anymore."
"Have you talked to her? Like really talked?"
"We text. Surface stuff."
"Jake. That's not talking. That's avoiding."
"I know. But what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, have you decided if you're coming home or choosing Paris over me?' That's not fair to her."
"What's not fair is this limbo you're both living in. You're not together, you're not broken up, you're just—stuck." Marcus sat down next to him. "You need to have a real conversation. Figure out where you both stand."
"What if she says she's staying in Paris?"
"Then at least you'll know. At least you'll have an answer."
After Marcus left, Jake sat alone in the quiet locker room and finally did what he'd been avoiding for two months.
He called Lucy.
It was late—past midnight in Paris—but Jake couldn't wait anymore.
The phone rang four times. Then Lucy's sleepy voice: "Hello?"
"Hi. Sorry, I know it's late there—"
"Jake? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. No. I don't know." Jake ran his hand through his hair. "I need to talk to you. Really talk. Not just text about surface stuff. Can we do that?"
There was a long pause. Then: "Yeah. We can do that. Let me get some coffee. Call me back in five minutes?"
"Okay."
Jake hung up and paced the locker room for five minutes, rehearsing what he wanted to say. Then he called back.
Lucy answered immediately, sounding more awake. "Okay. I'm here. Talk to me."
"I'm going crazy," Jake said. "This limbo we're in—I can't do it anymore. I need to know where we stand."
"I don't know where we stand. That's the problem."
"Then let's figure it out. Lucy—do you want to stay in Paris?"
Silence.
"I don't know," Lucy finally said. "Part of me does. Chef Laurent offered to help me find placement in Michelin kitchens. Real opportunities. Incredible opportunities."
"But?"
"But I miss home. I miss you. I miss Timber Falls and everyone there and the life I had before Paris."
"Had. Past tense."
"I didn't mean—"
"No, you did. And that's okay. Lucy, you've built a new life. One that doesn't include me. It's okay to acknowledge that."
"I don't want a life that doesn't include you."
"Then come home."
"It's not that simple!"
"Isn't it? If you want to be with me, come home. If you want to stay in Paris, stay. It really is that simple."
"You're making it sound like I have to choose between you and my career."
"No. I'm making it sound like you need to choose what you actually want instead of trying to have everything."
Lucy was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears. "What if I choose wrong?"
"Then you'll deal with the consequences. But Lucy—you can't live in limbo forever. Sooner or later, you have to make a choice."
"I know. I just—I'm scared. What if I choose to come home and I regret it? What if I resent you for being the reason I didn't stay in Paris?"
"Then we'll break up and you can go back to Paris. But at least you'll have tried."
"That's a terrible plan."
"Yeah. But it's better than this."
More silence. Jake could hear Lucy crying quietly.
"I need more time," she said finally.
"Okay. How much time?"
"I don't know. The program ends in July. Can I have until then?"
Three more months. Three more months of uncertainty, of waiting, of not knowing.
"Okay," Jake said, because what else could he say? "But Lucy—we need to actually talk. Not just text. Real conversations. Can we do that?"
"Yeah. We can do that."
"And Lucy? I love you. That hasn't changed. Whatever you decide—I'll support it. But I need you to actually decide. I can't keep living in maybe."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just—figure it out. Please."
They talked for another hour—really talked, for the first time since Jake's visit. About culinary school, about coaching, about how hard the distance was. It wasn't easy, and they both cried, but by the end, Jake felt something shift.
They were still in limbo. But at least they were acknowledging it now.
After Jake's call, Lucy couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed until 3 AM, staring at the ceiling, thinking about choices.
Finally, she got up and started writing. Not a text or email—just writing in her journal, trying to process everything.
Jake asked me to choose. Come home or stay in Paris. And he's right—I can't have both. I can't build a life here while also keeping one foot in Timber Falls.
But choosing feels impossible. Stay in Paris? I'd be choosing incredible opportunities, growth, a career beyond anything I imagined. But I'd be giving up Jake, Uncle Walter, Rei, Mae, everyone I love. Giving up Timber Falls and the restaurant I always planned to open.
Go home? I'd be choosing Jake, choosing family, choosing the life I left behind. But would I regret not staying in Paris? Would I wonder what might have been if I'd been braver?
There's no right answer. Just two different futures, both valid, both full of possibility and regret.
Lucy set down her pen and looked out at the Paris night.
Tomorrow, she had interviews scheduled with two of the restaurants Chef Laurent had recommended. Real opportunities to stay in Paris, to build a career here.
She should be excited. Instead, she just felt exhausted.
Her phone buzzed. Not Jake—Uncle Walter.
Uncle Walter: Heard you and Jake talked. How are you feeling?
Lucy: Overwhelmed. Confused. Terrified of choosing wrong.
Uncle Walter: Can I tell you something your grandmother told me once?
Lucy: Please.
Uncle Walter: She said that any choice made with love and intention is the right choice. That it's not about finding the perfect path—it's about committing to the path you choose.
Lucy: But what if I choose wrong?
Uncle Walter: Then you'll have learned something. Lucy, you can't live your life trying to avoid all possible regret. You just have to choose what feels most true to who you are right now.
Lucy: Who am I right now?
Uncle Walter: That's what you need to figure out. And you have three months to do it.