He'd come here a lot in the months after his dad died. When everything felt too big and overwhelming. When he needed space to breathe.
They sat on the hood of his truck, looking down at the town that had been home their entire lives.
"My dad used to bring me here," Jake said. "When I was a kid. He'd say that sometimes you need to get above something to see it clearly."
"And? Do you see it clearly?"
"I'm starting to." Jake took Lucy's hand. "I see that this town shaped me in ways I didn't appreciate when I was trying so hard to leave. I see that what I thought was failure was actually just life redirecting me to where I was supposed to be."
"You don't regret turning down Nashville?"
"Not even a little. Do you regret selling the bakery?"
Lucy was quiet for a long moment. "No. I'm sad. I'm scared. But I don't regret it. I think—I think my grandmother would be proud of me. For being brave enough to let go."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the afternoon light shift across the mountains.
"February fifth," Lucy said suddenly. "That's when I leave for Paris. The program starts February tenth, but I want a few days to get settled first."
Jake felt his stomach clench. February fifth. Two and a half months away.
"That's soon."
"I know. Barrett Development takes over January first, and I'll stay through the transition. But after that—" Lucy turned to face him. "Jake, are we really going to do this? Long distance for six months?"
"Yes."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I love you. Because this matters. Because I'm not going to let distance determine whether we work." Jake squeezed her hand. "Lucy, I spent three years of my life waiting for something better to come along. For the NHL to call, for my real life to start. I'm done waiting. I'm done letting fear make my decisions. You're here now. We're here now. And when you're in Paris, we'll figure out how to make that work too."
"What if six months turns into a year? What if I love Paris and don't want to come back right away?"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens. But Lucy—I'm not asking you to promise me forever. I'm just asking you to let me love you. Here, in Paris, wherever you end up. Let me be part of your adventure."
Lucy kissed him then—deep and grateful and a little desperate. When they pulled apart, she was crying again.
"I'm going to miss you so much."
"I'm going to miss you too. But we have two and a half months. That's not nothing. And video calls. And texts. And spring break—I could come visit if you want."
"Really?"
"Really. I've never been to Paris. You could show me around. We could eat all the pastries and you could teach me to tell the difference between a croissant and a pain au chocolat."
Lucy laughed through her tears. "They're very different."
"Prove it. In Paris. In March."
They stayed at the overlook until the sun started to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Then Jake drove them back to town, taking the long way, neither quite ready for the day to end.
At their building, Jake parked but didn't immediately get out.
"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked. "Celebrate? Process? Hide from the world?"
"All of the above?" Lucy smiled. "Uncle Walter and Rei want to take us to dinner. Giuseppe's, naturally. He's been texting me all day about planning a 'celebration feast.'"
"Then Giuseppe's it is."
