When they did manage a video call, Lucy looked exhausted. Overwhelmed. Like she was barely holding it together.
"How's culinary school?" Jake asked during their third video call.
"Intense. Chef Laurent is this terrifying French guy who thinks everything I make is 'adequate' which is apparently French for 'terrible.'"
"I'm sure that's not—"
"He made me remake croissants six times in one day, Jake. Six times. And they still weren't good enough."
"That's harsh."
"That's French culinary training, apparently." Lucy rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I'm complaining. How are you? How's coaching?"
"Good. Tiring but good. We won our last three games."
"That's great!"
But the conversation felt forced. Artificial. Like they were both performing "being okay" for each other.
"I miss you," Jake said.
"I miss you too. So much." Lucy's voice cracked. "I have to go—I have early classes tomorrow. Can we talk this weekend?"
"Yeah. Saturday? I can stay up late Friday night so it's Saturday morning for you."
"That works. I love you."
"Love you too."
The call ended, and Jake stared at his blank phone screen.
Two weeks. She'd been gone two weeks and it already felt impossible.
Marcus found him at the rink the next day, staring into space during practice.
"You okay, man?"
"Yeah. Fine."
"Liar. You're spiraling about Lucy."
"I'm not spiraling. I'm just—" Jake ran his hand through his hair. "It's hard. Harder than I thought it would be. We barely talk. When we do, it feels awkward. Like we don't know what to say to each other anymore."
"It's been two weeks. You're both adjusting."
"What if we can't adjust? What if six months is too long?"
"Jake. Stop catastrophizing. Lucy is overwhelmed and homesick and probably terrified. You're lonely and missing her. That's all normal. Give it time."
But time felt like the enemy. Every day without Lucy felt longer than the last.
At Wednesday morning, Jake kept his tradition. He went to The Bread Basket at 8:17, ordered six pork buns and black coffee from Sarah.
"How's Lucy?" Sarah asked.
"Good. Busy. Paris is intense."
"I bet. Tell her we all miss her."
