They were in the locker room, the team celebrating in the showers. Jake sat on the bench, staring at his phone.
No messages from Lucy.
"I don't know what to do," Jake admitted. "I told her to take space. To figure out what she wants. But now I'm just—waiting. And I don't know what I'm waiting for anymore."
"Have you talked to her? Like really talked?"
"We text. Surface stuff."
"Jake. That's not talking. That's avoiding."
"I know. But what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, have you decided if you're coming home or choosing Paris over me?' That's not fair to her."
"What's not fair is this limbo you're both living in. You're not together, you're not broken up, you're just—stuck." Marcus sat down next to him. "You need to have a real conversation. Figure out where you both stand."
"What if she says she's staying in Paris?"
"Then at least you'll know. At least you'll have an answer."
After Marcus left, Jake sat alone in the quiet locker room and finally did what he'd been avoiding for two months.
He called Lucy.
It was late—past midnight in Paris—but Jake couldn't wait anymore.
The phone rang four times. Then Lucy's sleepy voice: "Hello?"
"Hi. Sorry, I know it's late there—"
"Jake? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. No. I don't know." Jake ran his hand through his hair. "I need to talk to you. Really talk. Not just text about surface stuff. Can we do that?"
There was a long pause. Then: "Yeah. We can do that. Let me get some coffee. Call me back in five minutes?"
"Okay."
Jake hung up and paced the locker room for five minutes, rehearsing what he wanted to say. Then he called back.
Lucy answered immediately, sounding more awake. "Okay. I'm here. Talk to me."
"I'm going crazy," Jake said. "This limbo we're in—I can't do it anymore. I need to know where we stand."
"I don't know where we stand. That's the problem."
"Then let's figure it out. Lucy—do you want to stay in Paris?"
Silence.
"I don't know," Lucy finally said. "Part of me does. Chef Laurent offered to help me find placement in Michelin kitchens. Real opportunities. Incredible opportunities."
"But?"
"But I miss home. I miss you. I miss Timber Falls and everyone there and the life I had before Paris."
"Had. Past tense."
"I didn't mean—"
