"You just called Owen 'Lucy' while correcting his stick positioning."
Jake winced. "Okay, maybe I'm spiraling a little."
"Talk to me."
They sat on the bench while the team ran drills. Jake watched them skate—Owen's enthusiasm, Dmitri's quiet consistency, Ryan's philosophical approach to defensive positioning. His team. His future.
"I know she needs to go," Jake said. "I know Paris is the right choice for her. I know I'm supposed to be supportive and encouraging. But Marcus—I'm going to miss her so much I can barely breathe thinking about it."
"That's normal."
"Is it? We've been together less than three months. Shouldn't I be less... devastated?"
"Time doesn't determine how much you love someone. You've been falling for her for three years. The fact that you only acted on it recently doesn't make it less real."
"What if six months changes things? What if she realizes she doesn't need me?"
"Then you'll deal with that. But Jake—stop catastrophizing. You're borrowing trouble from a future that hasn't happened yet."
Tommy blew his whistle, calling the team in. As they gathered, Jake forced himself to focus. To be present. To remember that coaching was his choice too, and he needed to honor it the same way Lucy was honoring hers.
After practice, Jake drove to The Bread Basket. It was mid-afternoon, after the lunch rush but before closing. Lucy was in the kitchen, teaching Sarah how to make the butternut squash muffins.
"And the sage—you want to chop it really fine. Otherwise the flavor is too concentrated in some bites and not enough in others."
Jake watched through the doorway as Lucy moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. This was her element. Had been forfive years. And she was giving it up. Letting someone else take over.
For her dreams. For growth. For Paris.
He'd never been more in awe of her.
Lucy looked up and saw him. Her face transformed into that smile—the one that was just for him.
"Hey. You're early."
"Practice finished ahead of schedule. Tommy's knees are acting up so he called it after an hour."
"Want coffee?"
"Always."
They sat at Lucy's corner table—the one she'd been using as her office for five years. Soon this wouldn't be hers either. Someone else would sit here, do paperwork, make decisions about the bakery.
"Sarah's really good," Jake observed.
"She is. Better than I was when I first took over. She actually has experience." Lucy wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. "The bakery's going to be fine without me."
"Of course it is. You trained her well."
"That's not what I mean. I mean—" Lucy looked around the space. "I spent five years convinced that if I wasn't here every single day, controlling every detail, it would all fall apart. That I was essential. But I'm not. The bakery will be fine. Better than fine, probably. Sarah has ideas, energy. She's going to make this place thrive."
"And that bothers you?"
"No. It's a relief, actually. I'm not abandoning something that needs me. I'm just... letting go of something that's outgrown me." Lucy smiled, but it was sad. "I thought this place defined me. But it turns out Lucy Chen is a person who exists even without The Bread Basket."
"She's a pretty amazing person, too."
"You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."
