Jake took his pork buns to his usual table and ate alone. It felt wrong. Empty. Like something essential was missing.
His phone buzzed. A text from Lucy—it would be late afternoon for her.
Lucy:Made croissants again today. Chef Laurent said they were "acceptable." I'm counting that as a win.
Jake:That's great! Proud of you.
Lucy:How are you? Did you go to the bakery this morning?
Jake:Yeah. Kept our Wednesday tradition. Ate alone though.
Lucy:I miss those mornings.
Jake:Me too. More than I can say.
Lucy:Soon. March visit is only 6 weeks away.
Jake:Counting down.
Six weeks. Six weeks until he could hold her again, see her in person, remember why they were doing this.
Jake could survive six weeks.
He had to.
By week three, Lucy started to find her rhythm.
She discovered a café near her apartment that made perfect coffee. She learned which metro line got her to school fastest. She figured out how to use the washing machines in her building's basement (they were complicated and entirely in French).
And she made friends.
Her culinary school cohort was small—twenty students from twelve different countries. They bonded over shared exhaustion, Chef Laurent's impossible standards, and their collective imposter syndrome.
There was Amelie, a French woman in her thirties who'd worked in restaurants for years and was finally getting formal training. James, a British guy who'd left investment banking to pursue his dream of becoming a pastry chef. And Yuki, a Japanese woman who barely spoke but made the most beautiful desserts Lucy had ever seen.
They started having coffee after class, commiserating about Chef Laurent and sharing recipes from their home countries.
"You're American?" Amelie asked one afternoon. "But your technique is very good. Not at all what I expected from American baker."
"Should I be offended?" Lucy asked, laughing.
"Non, non! It is compliment! Americans usually over-sweeten, under-develop. But you—you have restraint. Finesse. Where did you train?"
"My grandmother's bakery. Vermont. Very small town, nothing fancy."
"Your grandmother taught you well."
The friendship with her cohort helped. Made Paris feel less lonely. But it also made Lucy feel guilty—she was making friends, having experiences, living a life that didn't include Jake.
When they video called on Saturday (early Saturday morning for Lucy, late Friday night for Jake), Lucy tried to share about her new friends.
"So Amelie is teaching me authentic French bread techniques, and James is absolutely hilarious—he does these impressions of Chef Laurent that are spot-on. And Yuki doesn't talk much but her desserts are like art—"
"That's great," Jake said, but something in his voice was off.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired. Long week."
