Chapter 18 #2
"That's sad. I liked Miss Lucy."
"Me too, kid. Me too."
Emma skated away, and Jake felt the familiar ache in his chest. Two months. Lucy had been gone two months. He should be over this by now. Should have moved on.
Instead, he was still checking his phone constantly, hoping for a text that never came. Still sleeping on one side of the bed like Lucy might appear on the other. Still ordering six pork buns every Wednesday even though he lived alone and couldn't possibly eat them all.
"You need a distraction," Marcus said at lunch one day. "A hobby. A woman. Something."
"I'm not dating anyone."
"I'm not saying date. I'm saying go out. Be social. Remember you're a person with interests beyond hockey and missing Lucy."
"What if I don't have interests beyond that?"
"Then develop some. Jake, I say this with love—you're wallowing. And wallowing is only attractive for like two weeks max. After that, it's just sad."
"I'm not wallowing. I'm processing."
"You're wallowing. Come out tonight. The team's getting drinks at Mac's. You should be there. First season as head coach—you need to bond with your players."
Jake didn't want to go. Wanted to go home and watch old westerns and feel sorry for himself.
But Marcus was right. He was the head coach now. He had responsibilities.
"Fine. I'll come."
"Good. And Jake? Maybe try smiling. It won't kill you."
That night at Mac's Tavern, Jake made an effort. He talked to his players, bought a round of drinks, even laughed at Owen's terrible jokes. It felt like wearing a mask, pretending to be okay when he wasn't.
But maybe that was what being an adult meant. Pretending until the pretending became real.
Around 10 PM, Mrs. Henderson appeared at their table. "Jake Morrison. I need to talk to you."
"Mrs. Henderson. Hi. What can I do for you?"
"You can tell me how to get in touch with Lucy. I've been trying to email her and she's not responding."
Jake felt his stomach clench. "I don't know. We're not—we're not in touch anymore."
"What? Why not?"
"Because she's in Paris building her career and I'm here. We broke up."
Mrs. Henderson looked genuinely distressed. "But you two were perfect for each other! Everyone said so!"
"I guess everyone was wrong."
"Nonsense. Lucy loved you. She was just scared—scared of giving up her dreams, scared of being trapped like she was with the bakery. But she'll come around. She just needs time."
"It's been two months. I think if she was going to come around, she would have by now."
"Two months is nothing! Your grandmother and I had a fight once that lasted three years. Three years! And then one day she just showed up at my door and said 'I forgive you' and that was that. We were friends again."
Despite himself, Jake smiled. "That's a nice story, Mrs. Henderson. But Lucy and I didn't fight. We just—want different things."
"For now. But people change. Wants change. Just—don't give up on her yet. She might surprise you."
After Mrs. Henderson left, Marcus raised his glass. "To not giving up."
"I'm not giving up. I'm being realistic."
"Realistic is just another word for scared."
"Since when are you the expert on relationships? You haven't dated anyone seriously in five years."
"Exactly. Which makes me the perfect person to give advice. I learn from everyone else's mistakes." Marcus leaned forward. "Jake, real talk—are you over Lucy?"
"No."
"Do you want to be?"
Jake thought about it. Did he want to be over Lucy? Did he want to stop missing her, stop hoping she'd change her mind, stop checking his phone for messages that never came?
"I don't know," Jake admitted. "Part of me wants to move on. To find someone else, build a different life. But part of me still hopes—"
"That she'll come home."
"Yeah. That she'll realize Paris isn't enough. That she misses us—me—enough to come back."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then I guess I'll learn to live with it. Eventually."
"That's not really an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
They drank in silence for a moment. Around them, the Wolves laughed and joked and celebrated the start of a new season. Jake envied their lightness. Their ability to be present without the weight of heartbreak pulling them down.
"Give it time," Marcus finally said. "That's all you can do. Give it time and see what happens."
Time. Jake was so tired of time. Tired of waiting, of hoping, of trying to move forward while part of him was still stuck in Paris, still holding Lucy's hand on that hill in Montmartre, still believing they could make it work.
But Marcus was right. Time was all he had.
So Jake would wait. And coach. And try to build a life that felt whole even with Lucy-shaped hole in it.
And maybe—maybe—eventually it would hurt less.
September in Paris was beautiful.
The tourists thinned out, the weather cooled, the city returned to the Parisians. Lucy had been working at Le Bernardin for two months, and she'd fallen into a rhythm. Work, sleep, work, sleep. Occasionally drinks with Amelie and James. Occasionally a museum or walk along the Seine.
But mostly just work.
"You're losing yourself," Amelie observed one evening over wine. They were at their usual café, watching people pass on the street.
"I'm not losing myself. I'm focused."
"You're hiding. Same as you were hiding in your grandmother's bakery. Different country, same problem."
"I'm not hiding. I'm building my career."
"To what end? So you can work yourself to death in a Michelin kitchen? Lucy, you're miserable."
"I'm not miserable. I'm—" Lucy paused. "Okay, I'm not happy. But I'm learning. Growing. Becoming someone."
"But who? Who are you becoming?"
Lucy didn't have an answer.
That night, Lucy did something she'd been avoiding for two months. She called Uncle Walter.
He answered on the second ring. "Lucy! Finally! I've been waiting for you to call."
"Sorry. I've been busy—"
"You've been avoiding. But that's okay. I understand." Uncle Walter's voice was warm, forgiving. "How are you, Lulu? Really?"
"I'm—" Lucy felt tears start. "I'm not okay. I made a mistake. I should have come home. I should have chosen Jake and Timber Falls and I didn't and now it's too late."
"It's not too late."
"It is. I've been here two months. I have a job at a Michelin restaurant. I can't just give that up because I miss home."
"Why not?"
"Because that would mean admitting I was wrong. That I chose poorly. That I wasted seven months chasing something I didn't actually want."
"Lucy, changing your mind isn't failure. It's growth. You tried Paris. You learned what you needed to learn. Now you're realizing your dreams have changed. That's okay."
"But Jake—"
"What about Jake?"
"I broke his heart. I chose Paris over him. I can't just show up two months later and expect him to take me back."
"Why not? People do that all the time. They make mistakes, they realize it, they fix it."
"It's not that simple."
"It is that simple. You're just scared." Uncle Walter paused. "Lucy, can I tell you something your grandmother told me once?"
"Please."
"She said that home isn't a place. It's where your heart feels settled. For her, that was Timber Falls and the bakery. For you—well, only you can answer that. But I think you already know."
After they hung up, Lucy sat in her apartment and thought about home.
Was it this Paris apartment? The one she'd made her own over seven months?
Or was it Timber Falls? The town where everyone knew her name, where Uncle Walter made terrible coffee, where Jake probably still ordered six pork buns every Wednesday morning?
Lucy pulled out her laptop and did something she'd been avoiding. She googled flights from Paris to Burlington.
€800. Available dates throughout September and October.
She could afford it. She had savings from the bakery sale.
She could go home. Right now. Book a flight and just—go.
But what about Le Bernardin? What about her career? What about all the reasons she'd stayed in Paris?
What about being happy? a voice in her head asked. When's the last time you were actually happy?
Lucy thought back. July, when Jake had visited. March, their first kiss in her apartment. Before that—those early days in Paris when everything was new and exciting.
But the happiness had faded. Been replaced by exhaustion and doubt and the constant questioning of whether she'd made the right choice.
Lucy opened her work email and started typing.
Chef Alain,
I need to give notice. I'm so grateful for this opportunity, but I've realized Paris isn't where I'm meant to be. My last day will be September 30th.
Sincerely, Lucy Chen
She stared at the email for a long time. Her finger hovered over send.
Then she closed the laptop without sending it.
Not yet. She wasn't ready yet.
But soon. Soon she'd have to make a choice—stay in Paris and keep pretending this was her dream, or go home and face whatever came next.
Two more months until December, when her lease ended. She could make it two more months. Figure out what she actually wanted.
Except she already knew what she wanted.
She wanted home. She wanted Uncle Walter and Rei and Mae. She wanted snow in November and Wednesday mornings at the bakery. She wanted to open her restaurant—not in Paris, but in Timber Falls, where she belonged.
And she wanted Jake. God, she wanted Jake.
Even if he didn't want her anymore. Even if she'd burned that bridge beyond repair.
Lucy pulled out her phone and opened Instagram. She'd been avoiding Jake's account for two months, not wanting to see him moving on, being happy without her.
But now she needed to see. Needed to know if there was any chance at all.
His most recent post was from yesterday. A photo of the Wolves at pre-season training, everyone looking determined and ready. The caption: Season starts next week. Let's make it count. #TimberfallsWolves #CoachLife
Lucy scrolled through comments. Marcus had written: Best coach we could ask for! Owen: So excited for this season!!! Rei: Go Wolves!
No mention of Lucy. No indication that Jake was anything but completely moved on.
Which was good. That's what she'd wanted, right? For Jake to be okay without her?
Except it didn't feel good. It felt like she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.
Lucy closed Instagram and stared at the ceiling of her Paris apartment.
Two months. She'd give herself two more months to be sure. To not make another impulsive decision she'd regret.
And then—if she still felt this way in two months—she'd go home.
Even if Jake had moved on. Even if Timber Falls didn't want her back. Even if she'd ruined everything.
She'd go home. Because home was where her heart was.
And her heart had never really left Vermont.
The Wolves' first game of the season was September 15th.
Jake stood behind the bench in his coaching gear—team polo, khakis, headset—and felt like an imposter. This wasn't him. He was supposed to be on the ice, playing, not standing here calling plays.
But when the puck dropped and the game started, something clicked.
Jake read the game differently from the bench. Saw patterns he'd never noticed as a player. Could coach his team through shifts, make adjustments, guide them to better positioning.
They won 4-2. The team celebrated on the ice, and Jake felt something he hadn't felt in months: pride. Not in himself, but in them. In what they'd built together.
"Great game, Coach!" Owen shouted, still buzzing with post-game energy.
"Great game, guys. Hit the showers. Recovery day tomorrow, then we start prep for Saturday."
After the team left, Jake stood alone in the quiet locker room. He'd done it. Coached his first game as head coach. Won his first game.
He wished Lucy was here to share it with.
Jake pulled out his phone and started typing a text: First win as head coach. Wish you could have been here.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then deleted it without sending.
What was the point? Lucy had made her choice. She was in Paris, building her career, living the dream she'd chosen over him. Texting her would just open wounds that were barely starting to heal.
Jake pocketed his phone and headed home.
But as he drove through Timber Falls—past Main Street, past The Bread Basket (still open under Sarah's management), past the familiar shops and houses—Jake felt something shift.
This was his town. His home. His choice.
And maybe—maybe—it was enough.
Maybe he didn't need Lucy to be happy. Maybe he could build a full life here—coaching, being part of the community, eventually maybe even dating again (though that thought still felt impossible).
Maybe choosing Timber Falls over Nashville had been enough. Maybe he didn't also need Lucy.
Except he did. He wanted her. Missed her every single day.
But wanting wasn't enough. She'd made her choice. And Jake had to respect it.
Even if it meant spending the rest of his life missing her.
Jake parked outside his building and sat in his truck for a long moment.
Then he did something he'd been avoiding. He took off his keys and removed the spare key to Lucy's apartment—the one she'd given him months ago, before Paris, when they'd been constantly switching between apartments.
He should have given it back before she left. Should have cleaned out the drawer where she'd kept clothes, the toiletries she'd left in his bathroom. All the Lucy-shaped pieces of his life that he'd been clutching onto like talismans.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd box it all up. Tomorrow he'd start really moving forward.
But tonight, Jake would let himself miss her one more time.
Tomorrow he'd let her go.
Tonight, he'd hold onto what they'd been.
Just for one more night.