When Penny finally stepped into her room at The Maple Bed and Breakfast, she exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The warmth of the inn surrounded her, but it didn't quiet the thoughts that were racing through her head. The early morning wake-up call from Hank, the frantic packing, the rush to catch the train—everything had moved so quickly, each moment blending into the next, that it was only now, in the stillness solitude of her room, that the toll of it all hit her.

She let the door click softly behind her, the scent of pumpkin rolls still lingering faintly in the air. She tossed her suitcase haphazardly on the bed, its contents now a disorganized jumble. Penny didn't have the energy to unpack. She just needed a moment. A moment of calm.

With a sigh, she walked over to the window and drew back the curtains, looking out at the familiar sights of Avon—the same brick houses, the same cobbled streets. But as she stood there, gazing out at the quiet town, her mind didn't see the scene that unfolded outside. It didn't see the trees, the crisp autumn air, or the way the sunlight filtered through the branches. Instead, her mind slipped back to that moment—the last time she saw Chris.

The memory washed over her like a wave, clear and sharp.

It had been the day she left for Boston, the day she'd told him goodbye. The day she'd walked away from him, from everything they'd built, without looking back.

"Penny," Chris had said, standing by her car, his voice raw with emotion. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to go."

She had looked at him then, seeing the hurt in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and there was a frown on his face she had never seen before, a frown that made her chest tighten with guilt.

"I have to," she had replied, her voice much colder than she intended. She had tried to keep the emotion from seeping through, but it had been so hard. "There's nothing for me here, Chris. I need to go. I need to make something of myself."

Chris had stepped forward, his eyes searching hers for something—anything—that would make him believe she was making the right choice. "But what about us?" he had asked, his voice cracking. "What about what we have?"

"It's not enough," she had whispered, though every fiber of her being wanted to scream that it was, that he was enough. But the future she had dreamed of—Boston, the fast-paced city life, the career that would define her—was pulling her away. She had convinced herself that it was the only way forward. "I can't stay here, Chris. I can't be the person I'm meant to be if I'm stuck in this small town."

He had looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. "I don't know if I can wait for you, Penny," he had finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to wait," she had said quickly, swallowing hard. "You don't owe me anything."

The words had felt like knives in her chest. But she had to say them. She couldn't let him hold on to a future that wasn't hers.

"I'll always care about you," she had added, though it sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

Chris hadn't answered right away. He had just stood there, silent, watching her with a mixture of love and resignation. Finally, he had nodded slowly, a quiet acceptance settling over him.

"Goodbye, Penny," he had said softly. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

The words had been so final, and Penny had known that would be the last time she'd ever see him. Her heart had broken in that moment, and the guilt had gnawed at her as she climbed into the train.

Now, as she stood at the window in the quiet of the Maple Bed and Breakfast, that memory replayed in her mind like a broken record. She had left everything behind—her parents, her friends, and Chris. She had told herself it was the only way to move forward, but now, standing here, back in Avon, she wondered if she had made a mistake. Had she made the right choice?

The soft chirping of birds outside the window interrupted her thoughts. She blinked, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't that person anymore, was she? She had moved on. She had built a life in Boston. She had found success, even if it had come at the cost of personal connection.

Penny took a deep breath, trying to center herself as she gazed out at the town she had once called home. She reminded herself, as she had done countless times before, that she had made the right choice. She was happy. Her life in Boston—her career—was everything she had worked for. It was the future she had dreamed of since she was a teenager, the fast-paced life she had longed for when she felt like Avon was too small to hold her ambitions.

She had everything she had ever wanted—success, independence, the excitement of the city at her fingertips. She thrived on the challenges, took on cases, and celebrated victories in the high-rise offices of her firm, filling her days with excitement. She had crafted a life that was hers, one that was far removed from the quiet rhythms of small-town life.

And yet, as the memory of Chris and her last conversation replayed in her mind, the weight of her decision settled more heavily on her chest. She had made her choice to leave, but it hadn't been easy. The truth was, if she had stayed, the ghosts of the past has haunted her. Her parents—those last memories of them—would always be a shadow over her, and no matter how much she loved them, she couldn't live in the shadow of their loss forever. Staying in Avon would have meant staying in a place that held too much history, too many reminders of what she couldn't change.

"It's better this way," she thought firmly, straightening her posture and pushing the memory of Chris to the back of her mind. "I couldn't stay here and be weighed down by what I had to leave behind. I couldn't have moved forward if I'd kept holding on to the past."

Boston was her future. It was where she could build something of her own, where the city lights and constant buzz made her feel like anything was possible. Her parents would have understood. They'd been proud of her, proud that she had taken control of her own path, and Penny clung to that belief, the idea that she had done what was best for herself.

"Besides," she added to herself, "Chris has his own life now. And I have mine."

She couldn't deny the stir of guilt that lingered at the edges of her thoughts, but she pushed it away with practiced ease. "It's been years," she told herself. "I can't keep living in the past. I've made my peace with my decisions."

And yet, as she stood there in the quiet room, she couldn't shake the feeling that peace was a bit further away than she wanted to admit. The town, the memories, and even Chris—everything had shifted in a way she hadn't anticipated. But for now, she would stick to her plan. She would help Avon, figure out what this mysterious buyer was all about, and then return to the life she had built in Boston, where she could continue forward, uninterrupted.

That was the path she had chosen.