Natalie's eyes go wide. "Wow."
"That's not even all of it." I set down my coffee. "After he told me, I hugged him. And we were standing there in the kitchen, and he was looking at me like... like I was something precious. And we almost kissed. We were this close." I hold up my fingers an inch apart. "And then Connor walked in."
"Of course he did." Natalie sits back. "So let me get this straight. The guy you've been in love with since you were fifteen just made a grand romantic gesture, almost kissed you, and you're hiding in your shop because...?"
"Because I don't know what it means. Because he's leaving. Because Connor already warned him off." I stand. Start pacing. "And because during the snowstorm we had this moment by the fire. We almost kissed. And it felt like everything was about to change. But then he pulled back."
Natalie chokes on her coffee. "I'm sorry, what?"
So I tell her. The whole story. The almost-kiss by the fire during the snowstorm. How he pulled back, said we shouldn't. The tension between them. Then yesterday's charity game rescue. The hug in the kitchen that turned into almost kissing again before Connor walked in. How we haven't been alone since. How yesterday felt like he was saying something without words.
When I finish, Natalie just stares at me.
"Let me make sure I have this right," she says. "Three nights ago during the snowstorm, you two had an intense moment by the fire where you almost kissed. Then yesterday he called in NHL favors to save your charity game. Then almost kissed you again in the kitchen." She leans forward. "Lucy, the man is clearly into you. What are you confused about?"
Put like that, it sounds ridiculous.
"He's leaving, Nat. He has a whole life in Boston. The NHL, the travel, the pressure. His career. And I have this." I gesture around the shop. "My life is here. My business. My family. How is that supposed to work?"
"I don't know. But you won't find out if you don't even try." She stands. Comes to me. Takes my hands. "Lucy, when was the last time you fought for what you wanted?"
The question catches me off guard. "What?"
"You heard me. When did you become someone who gives up before she even tries?"
"I'm not giving up. I'm being realistic."
"You're being scared." Her voice is firm but not unkind. "And I get it. Your mom died. Connor became your whole world. You learned to make yourself small so you didn't lose anyone else. But Lucy." She squeezes my hands. "You can't live your whole life afraid of wanting things."
The words hit harder than I expect. "That's not fair."
"It's fair. You wanted this shop. Everyone said it would fail. You fought for it anyway." She holds my gaze. "You wanted to create something meaningful in Pine Hollow. People laughed. You did it anyway. So why won't you fight for this?"
"Because shops don't leave. Shops don't break your heart."
"No. But they also don't make you feel the way he does." Her eyes are fierce. "I've never seen you like this. Even scared and confused, you're more alive than you've been in years."
I pull my hands back. Walk to the window and stare out at Main Street. The Christmas lights twinkle. People walk past bundled in coats. Everything looks the same as it always does.
But I don't feel the same.
"What if I want more and he doesn't?" My voice comes out small. "What if yesterday was just him being nice? What if I put myself out there and he walks away?"
"Then you'll survive." Natalie comes to stand beside me. "But Lucy. What if you don't try and spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been?"
The question settles in my chest like a stone.
"I'm terrified," I whisper.
"I know." She wraps an arm around my shoulders. "But you're also brave. You just forget that sometimes."
We stand at the window watching the town wake up. The coffee shop across the street opens. The hardware store next door flips its sign. Life continuing like it always does while my entire world tilts sideways.
"So what do I do?" I ask.
"You decide what you want. Not what Connor wants. Not what's safe or smart or expected. What you want." She squeezes my shoulder. "And then you fight for it."
My phone vibrates on the counter. I glance at it. Email from my landlord. The subject line: "December 31st Deadline."
