They walked to his truck in silence. Lucy wanted to say something, anything, but she didn't know what. The day had been so overwhelming—the town's reaction, her own doubts, watching Jake get hurt—that she felt paralyzed.
"Want to come over?" Jake asked as they reached his truck. But he sounded like he was asking out of obligation, not desire.
"Do you want me to?"
Jake was quiet for too long. "I don't know. I'm tired and sore and I'm not great company right now."
"That's fine. I'm not great company either."
They stood in the parking lot, the cold November wind cutting through their jackets, and Lucy felt the distance between them like a physical thing.
"The town is upset about me selling," Lucy said. "Really upset. The Knitting Circle walked out this morning. Mr. Petersonbarely touched his muffin. People think I'm betraying my grandmother."
"You're not betraying anyone."
"How do you know? What if they're right? What if I'm being selfish?"
"Lucy—"
"And what if I encouraged you to turn down Nashville for nothing? What if your shoulder is worse than Rei thinks? What if I ruined your last chance at the NHL?"
Jake turned to face her fully. "You didn't ruin anything. I made my own choice."
"But what if it was the wrong choice? What if we both made the wrong choices?"
"Is that what you think?"
Lucy looked at him—really looked. He was holding his shoulder, exhausted from the game, probably in pain. And she'd just questioned the decision he'd made, the future he'd chosen.
"I don't know what I think anymore," Lucy admitted. "I thought I was ready to sell the bakery and travel and start over. But everyone's so disappointed in me. And you got hurt. And everything feels like it's falling apart."
"Nothing's falling apart. People are just adjusting to change."
"Are they? Or am I destroying everything—the bakery, your career, us—because I'm too scared to just stay put and be satisfied with what I have?"
Jake flinched. "Us? Lucy, we're fine. This is just a hard moment—"
"Is it? Or is this reality setting in? We've known each other for three years but we've been together less than a week. Maybe we moved too fast. Maybe we don't actually know each other at all."
"I know you. I've watched you for three years—"
"You've watched me work. That's different from knowing me." Lucy felt tears start to fall. "What if we're just two lonely people who convinced ourselves we were in love because the timing was convenient?"
"Is that what you think this is?"
"I don't know! I don't know anything anymore. I thought I was making the right choice about the bakery but everyone's telling me I'm wrong. I thought you were making the right choice about Nashville but what if you weren't? What if we're both just scared and we latched onto each other instead of facing our actual problems?"
Jake was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. "I think you're spiraling. I think you had a bad day and you're questioning everything because that's what you do when you're scared."
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm finally seeing clearly."
"Lucy—"
"I should go. You need to rest your shoulder. I need to think."
"About what?"
"About everything. About whether selling the bakery is right. About whether we're right." Lucy took a step back. "I'm sorry. I just—I need some space to figure this out."
