"No, you did. And that's okay. Lucy, you've built a new life. One that doesn't include me. It's okay to acknowledge that."
"I don't want a life that doesn't include you."
"Then come home."
"It's not that simple!"
"Isn't it? If you want to be with me, come home. If you want to stay in Paris, stay. It really is that simple."
"You're making it sound like I have to choose between you and my career."
"No. I'm making it sound like you need to choose what you actually want instead of trying to have everything."
Lucy was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears. "What if I choose wrong?"
"Then you'll deal with the consequences. But Lucy—you can't live in limbo forever. Sooner or later, you have to make a choice."
"I know. I just—I'm scared. What if I choose to come home and I regret it? What if I resent you for being the reason I didn't stay in Paris?"
"Then we'll break up and you can go back to Paris. But at least you'll have tried."
"That's a terrible plan."
"Yeah. But it's better than this."
More silence. Jake could hear Lucy crying quietly.
"I need more time," she said finally.
"Okay. How much time?"
"I don't know. The program ends in July. Can I have until then?"
Three more months. Three more months of uncertainty, of waiting, of not knowing.
"Okay," Jake said, because what else could he say? "But Lucy—we need to actually talk. Not just text. Real conversations. Can we do that?"
"Yeah. We can do that."
"And Lucy? I love you. That hasn't changed. Whatever you decide—I'll support it. But I need you to actually decide. I can't keep living in maybe."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just—figure it out. Please."
They talked for another hour—really talked, for the first time since Jake's visit. About culinary school, about coaching, about how hard the distance was. It wasn't easy, and they both cried, but by the end, Jake felt something shift.
They were still in limbo. But at least they were acknowledging it now.
After Jake's call, Lucy couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed until 3 AM, staring at the ceiling, thinking about choices.
Finally, she got up and started writing. Not a text or email—just writing in her journal, trying to process everything.
Jake asked me to choose. Come home or stay in Paris. And he's right—I can't have both. I can't build a life here while also keeping one foot in Timber Falls.
But choosing feels impossible. Stay in Paris? I'd be choosing incredible opportunities, growth, a career beyond anything I imagined. But I'd be giving up Jake, Uncle Walter, Rei, Mae, everyone I love. Giving up Timber Falls and the restaurant I always planned to open.
