For the first time since returning to Avon, Penny didn't hesitate. She had a clear path in front of her, and she was determined to follow it. The cold air bit at her cheeks as she walked, but the heavy winter coat and sturdy boots Chris had provided kept her warm, grounding her in the moment. Her thoughts were focused only on one thing now—The Loaf and Ladle.

As she neared the familiar building, her breath quickened, though she couldn't say why. It wasn't nerves, exactly, but something else—something deep and unfamiliar, like the weight of old feelings stirring within her. She was nearing the threshold of something that had been dormant for years, and it felt as though the town itself was pulling her back, wrapping its arms around her like it had never let her go.

And then she saw it—the warm, inviting glow spilling out from the windows of the café. It was exactly how she remembered it, that soft golden light flickering against the dark night, the scent of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee drifting out into the cold air. Penny's heart gave a little lurch.

Of course, Chris was still there.

There was no surprise in the thought—The Loaf and Ladle was his life, the heart of the town. Penny knew that better than anyone. But seeing it now, seeing that familiar glow in the window, it felt like coming home in a way she hadn't expected.

She stood for a moment just outside the café, her boots crunching softly on the snow beneath her. The noise of the town was quiet, the world seeming to pause around her as she took in the sight of the place she had left behind all those years ago. For a fleeting moment, Penny thought about turning around, about going back to the inn, letting the questions and the unresolved past stay buried.

But that thought lasted only a heartbeat.

She walked toward the door without a second glance, her hand reaching for the handle before she could think about it. The bell above the door jingled as she pushed it open, and the familiar warmth of the café washed over her, comforting and bittersweet all at once.

Inside, Chris was at the counter, just as she had imagined. His back was to her, focused on the tasks before him—arranging plates, checking the coffee pot—but she knew he'd hear the door open, knew he would turn to greet whoever had come in.

And then, he did.

The moment their eyes met, time seemed to pause. Chris's expression softened, though there was a flicker of surprise in his gaze. He didn't immediately speak, just watched her for a moment as if trying to place her in the here and now, in the woman she had become. Penny could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mouth dry. But she didn't look away.

"Penny," he said finally, his voice a little rougher than usual, though the warmth in it was unmistakable. "What are you doing here?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out at first. The tension between them was palpable, and she realized how much she had wanted this conversation, how much she had needed it. It had been years, but standing here in this very place, it was as if no time had passed at all.

"I needed to talk to you," she said, her voice finally steady, though it trembled slightly at the edges. "About everything."

Chris didn't respond right away. He just studied her, his eyes searching her face, as if trying to make sense of the woman standing in front of him. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, he stepped away from the counter, his movements slow and deliberate.

"You could've called," he said softly, the words carrying an edge of frustration, but also something softer beneath it—something that told Penny all she needed to know about the distance that had always been there between them.

"I know," she said, her voice quiet. "I should've. But I didn't know where to start."

Chris's gaze softened, and for a moment, Penny thought she saw a flicker of that same old connection, the one that had once existed between them. But then he shook his head slightly, as if trying to push the thoughts away.

"Well, you're here now," he said, his tone steady but not without a hint of wariness. "What is it you want to talk about?"

Penny stepped further into the café, the door closing softly behind her. She didn't know where to start. She could have mentioned Greely, LLC, and the offer he had received. She could have brought up the reason she'd come back to Avon in the first place, the way the town was slowly being sold off. But for a moment, all of that felt secondary to the raw, honest truth of the moment.

"I guess I've been running from this place," she said slowly, looking around the café, taking in the familiar sights—the old wooden counter, the mismatched chairs, the warm glow from the kitchen. "Running from everything here, from you. From us."

Chris didn't move, but his expression softened as he leaned against the counter. "You left, Penny. You left and you didn't look back. You didn't even say goodbye."

The words hit Penny like a punch, and she flinched, the sting of the past cutting through her like it always had. She hadn't wanted to hurt him. She hadn't wanted to leave everything behind so suddenly. But in that moment, standing there in front of him, the weight of it all felt almost unbearable.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words feeling too small, too inadequate for what had happened.

Chris's eyes searched hers for a long moment, and then he sighed, looking away. "I don't know what you want from me, Penny," he said softly.

Penny felt the weight of his words, and her chest tightened. She had no idea what she expected—what she wanted—coming here tonight. But the words hung in the air, thick with unresolved feelings, and for a brief moment, the future felt uncertain.

"I don't want anything, Chris," she said, her voice quiet. "I just... I needed to come back. I needed to see you. To understand... everything."

Chris stood there, still watching her, and for a long moment, there was silence between them. It wasn't comfortable or easy, but it was honest. And that, Penny realized, was all she had ever really wanted. To be honest—about the past, about what had happened between them, about everything.

"I'm here now," she said finally, her voice steady. "And I'm not going anywhere."

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, as Chris took a slow step back, his gaze hardening. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, almost as if he had to say it out loud for his own sake.

"You're living the life you always wanted, Penny," he said, his eyes fixed on hers. "The successful big city life. You don't need this. You don't need any of this."

Penny felt a familiar ache in her chest, a tightness that only Chris's words seemed to bring out. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. She had built her life in Boston, chasing a career, leaving everything else behind. The glitter of success, the rush of the city—it had all seemed like everything she wanted. But now, standing here in The Loaf and Ladle, it felt like a dream she had outgrown.

"I'm up for partner at my firm," she replied, her voice softer than she intended. The weight of her words hung in the air between them.

Chris nodded silently, the weight of his own thoughts reflected in his gaze. The stillness stretched between them once more, heavy and unspoken.

"There isn't much left here," Chris said, his voice flat, as if the words had been building up inside him for a long time. "The town is dying. It's only a matter of time. I probably only have a year left with this place."

The admission hit Penny like a punch to the stomach, far deeper than she had anticipated. She hadn't expected it to wound her this much. She had left this place behind—had tried to move on—but hearing Chris speak so plainly about the loss of The Loaf and Ladle, about Avon itself, made everything feel so final.

"No," she whispered, the word slipping from her lips before she could stop it.

Chris just shrugged, his eyes cold as he turned away.

"My firm. They're behind it. Behind Greely, LLC. I didn't know, but..." Penny's voice trailed off.

Chris turned back to face her, and his eyes flashed with a sudden, intense fire. "Your firm... You hate this place that much? Me... that much?"

Penny's heart raced as she recoiled from the venom in his voice. She hadn't expected this—a sharp, biting bitterness that cut deeper than she imagined. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat.

"I didn't know," she said quickly, trying to keep the panic from flooding her words. "I want to help. I came back to help."

"Leave, Penny." Chris's voice was a growl now, full of raw frustration. "Leave for yourself. It's what you do best."

Penny recoiled from the anger in his words. Her instinct told her to leave, to retreat from the pain in the room, but then she stopped herself. She couldn't run from this anymore. She wasn't going to.

"No," she said firmly, a sense of purpose flooding her chest. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Chris's eyes snapped to hers, dark and skeptical. "Since when?"

Penny's shoulders squared, her voice strong. "This is my home," she said, and the words rang with a conviction she hadn't realized she had. "I was born here. I grew up here, and my parents are buried just up the street. This is my home, and I am staying."

Chris's expression flickered, but he hid whatever emotions passed through him behind a mask of indifference. "Sure you are," he muttered, the words laced with disbelief and cynicism.

Anger and annoyance surged within Penny, her pulse quickening. "You can't chase me away, Chris!" she hollered, her voice rising in the small café, the sound reverberating off the walls.

Chris's eyes snapped up to meet hers, a flash of something fierce igniting in them. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few swift strides. His body was nearly flush with hers, the heat between them palpable, too close, too intense. "Chase you away?" he spat. "I begged you to stay. You can't rewrite history."

Penny's breath hitched in her throat, her heart pounding wildly. The energy between them crackled, the words unsaid hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

"I'm here now," Penny said, her voice low but resolute. "I'm staying."

Chris's face hardened, and he moved even closer, his presence overwhelming. "What if it's too late? What if no one wants you around here anymore?" His words were a challenge, sharp and biting, and he moved so close that Penny could feel his breath on her skin.

The heat between them was enough to ignite something deep inside her, a fire she hadn't realized had been burning all along. She lifted her chin, her heart pounding in her chest as she faced him.

"Is it too late?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty. It was the question that had been lingering in her mind since she first stepped off the train. Is it too late?

Chris was silent for a long moment, his gaze flicking over her face as if searching for something he couldn't quite find. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between them completely. His lips crashed into hers, urgent and intense, the kiss deep and fierce as if he was trying to answer the unasked questions that had been building between them for years.

The world seemed to vanish as Penny's hands found their way to Chris's shoulders, gripping him as he kissed her with a rawness she hadn't expected. His lips were soft but insistent, pressing against hers with a hunger that matched her own. The taste of him—familiar, warm, and like home—was almost overwhelming. Every kiss seemed to echo the years of distance between them, the years of frustration and unspoken words.

The heat between them escalated, a desperate connection that seemed to burn away every barrier they had put up over the years. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, the intensity of the moment making everything else in the world fade into nothingness.

Penny melted into the kiss, her body responding to his with a fierceness she couldn't deny. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, she could only feel the overwhelming rush of emotions—desire, regret, and something else she couldn't name. It wasn't just a kiss. It was everything she had been running from and everything she had been longing for, all at once.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Penny's hands were still on his chest, her heart racing, her pulse wild. Chris's eyes were dark, his breath uneven, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, the weight of the kiss hanging between them.

Penny swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. "Is it too late?" she asked again, her eyes searching his.

Chris didn't answer right away. Instead, he simply reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering against her skin.

She wasn't going anywhere. Not now. Not ever again. She didn't need the big city and she could think of a much better use of her savings than buying into a partnership of a firm that was willing to destroy something as beautiful as Avon.