"I'm not miserable. I'm—" Lucy paused. "Okay, I'm not happy. But I'm learning. Growing. Becoming someone."
"But who? Who are you becoming?"
Lucy didn't have an answer.
That night, Lucy did something she'd been avoiding for two months. She called Uncle Walter.
He answered on the second ring. "Lucy! Finally! I've been waiting for you to call."
"Sorry. I've been busy—"
"You've been avoiding. But that's okay. I understand." Uncle Walter's voice was warm, forgiving. "How are you, Lulu? Really?"
"I'm—" Lucy felt tears start. "I'm not okay. I made a mistake. I should have come home. I should have chosen Jake and Timber Falls and I didn't and now it's too late."
"It's not too late."
"It is. I've been here two months. I have a job at a Michelin restaurant. I can't just give that up because I miss home."
"Why not?"
"Because that would mean admitting I was wrong. That I chose poorly. That I wasted seven months chasing something I didn't actually want."
"Lucy, changing your mind isn't failure. It's growth. You tried Paris. You learned what you needed to learn. Now you're realizing your dreams have changed. That's okay."
"But Jake—"
"What about Jake?"
"I broke his heart. I chose Paris over him. I can't just show up two months later and expect him to take me back."
"Why not? People do that all the time. They make mistakes, they realize it, they fix it."
"It's not that simple."
"It is that simple. You're just scared." Uncle Walter paused. "Lucy, can I tell you something your grandmother told me once?"
"Please."
"She said that home isn't a place. It's where your heart feels settled. For her, that was Timber Falls and the bakery. For you—well, only you can answer that. But I think you already know."
After they hung up, Lucy sat in her apartment and thought about home.
Was it this Paris apartment? The one she'd made her own over seven months?
Or was it Timber Falls? The town where everyone knew her name, where Uncle Walter made terrible coffee, where Jake probably still ordered six pork buns every Wednesday morning?
Lucy pulled out her laptop and did something she'd been avoiding. She googled flights from Paris to Burlington.
€800. Available dates throughout September and October.
She could afford it. She had savings from the bakery sale.
She could go home. Right now. Book a flight and just—go.
But what about Le Bernardin? What about her career? What about all the reasons she'd stayed in Paris?
What about being happy?a voice in her head asked.When's the last time you were actually happy?
