But who was that someone? And did she actually like who she'd become?
Lucy pulled out her phone and opened her photos. Scrolled back through seven months of memories. The Eiffel Tower. Classmates at Le Cordon Bleu. Market trips. Cafés and museums and all the beautiful moments.
But also: photos of Jake from his March and July visits. Photos of them together. Photos she'd taken of him looking at Paris with wonder and love.
Lucy stopped on one photo—Jake in her apartment, cooking dinner together, laughing at something she'd said. He looked happy. She looked happy. They looked like people who belonged together.
Why did I let him go?Lucy thought.Why did I choose this over us?
But she knew why. Because she'd been scared. Scared of being defined by someone else's expectations. Scared of giving up this opportunity. Scared of choosing love over ambition and regretting it later.
Except now she was living her ambition, and she regretted it anyway.
Lucy opened her text thread with Jake. Their last messages were from two weeks ago—brief, polite, meaningless.
She started typing:I made a mistake. I should have come home. I miss you every day and Paris feels empty without you.
Her finger hovered over send.
Then she deleted it.
What would be the point? Jake had moved on. He was coaching, building his life in Timber Falls. She couldn't just text him months later and expect him to be waiting.
Lucy put away her phone and climbed the stairs to her apartment.
Inside, she looked around at the space that was supposed to be her dream—the Paris apartment, the life she'd chosen.
It felt like a prison.
August brought the start of pre-season training.
Jake's first official season as head coach of the Timber Falls Wolves. It should have been exciting. Instead, it just felt like more work to distract himself from missing Lucy.
The team gathered for their first meeting. Jake stood in front of them and tried to channel Tommy's easy authority.
"Welcome to a new season. For those of you who don't know, I'm Jake Morrison. I've been with this team for three years as a player, and now I'm stepping into the head coach role. I'm not Tommy—I won't pretend to be. But I'll give you everything I have."
The team listened respectfully. Marcus gave him a thumbs up from the back row.
"This season is about growth," Jake continued. "We made the playoffs last year for the first time in five years. That's huge. But it's not the ceiling—it's the floor. This year, we're going to build on that. We're going to work harder, play smarter, and support each other. Questions?"
Owen's hand shot up. "Coach, are you going to be playing too? Or just coaching?"
Jake had been dreading this question. "Just coaching. I'm retiring as a player."
Murmurs rippled through the team. Jake had been their assistant captain, one of their best players. His retirement would leave a gap.
"I know that's a change," Jake said. "But my shoulder isn't what it used to be. I can't give you my best on the ice anymore. So I'm going to give you my best from the bench instead."
More murmurs, but accepting ones. The team trusted him. That was something.
After the meeting, Emma appeared—now part of the youth hockey program that Jake was still helping coach on Saturdays.
"Coach Jake, did Miss Lucy ever come back?"
"No, Emma. She's staying in Paris."
"Forever?"
