"Thanks."
They hugged, and Lucy felt Jake's arms around her one last time. Solid. Real. The future she was choosing to walk away from.
"Bye, Lucy."
"Bye, Jake."
Jake got in the taxi, and Lucy watched it drive away.
And then he was gone.
Lucy stood on the Paris street corner and cried. Not dramatic sobs—just quiet tears for what might have been. For the relationship they'd had. For the future they wouldn't share.
But underneath the sadness was something else. Relief, maybe. Or certainty. Or just the knowledge that she'd finally chosen.
Paris. Her career. Herself.
It was the right choice. She knew it was the right choice.
Even though it hurt like hell.
Lucy walked back to her apartment, pulled out her phone, and emailed all three restaurants.
Thank you for your patience. I'm accepting the position at Le Bernardin. When can I start?
Then she texted Amelie and James:I'm staying in Paris.
Their responses were immediate.
Amelie:I knew it! We celebrate tonight!
James:YESSSS! Paris needs you!
Lucy set down her phone and looked out at the city she was choosing. Paris in July was beautiful—warm and bright and full of possibility.
This was her home now. Really her home.
She'd chosen herself. Her dreams. Her future.
And if that future didn't include Jake—well, she'd learn to live with that.
Somehow.
Chapter 18
Timber Falls in July was green and alive and everything Jake had told Lucy it would be.
He threw himself into coaching preparation. Next season's schedule, roster decisions, equipment orders, parent meetings. There was always something to do, always a reason to stay at the rink instead of going home to his empty apartment.
"You're here again?" Marcus said one evening, finding Jake in the office at 8 PM. "Jake, you need to go home. Sleep. Eat something that isn't vending machine food."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You've been here twelve hours a day for three weeks. That's not dedication—that's avoidance."
Jake looked at his friend. "What am I supposed to do? Go home and stare at my walls? Think about how Lucy chose Paris over me?"
"She didn't choose Paris over you. She chose herself. There's a difference."
