35. Epilogue
Lila
It’s been a roller coaster ride since that night in the studio.
When Luke told me and the world that he loved me, since then, my life has changed in ways I never saw coming. I still run my private chef business, but now? Now, I have only one very important client—the Wild Band.
When Emily first approached me about becoming the Wild Band’s personal chef six months ago, I wasn’t sure. I worried about mixing business with pleasure, about losing the independence I’d worked so hard for. But Luke smiled and said, “Finally, I get you all to myself on tour.”
It turned out to be perfect. I get to do what I adore while being with the man I love. The band gets proper meals instead of takeout, and I get to see Luke every day, even during their grueling tour schedule.
As Emily pointed out, it’s the perfect way to contribute to the band—to be part of their world without getting lost in it.
Plus, there’s something special about feeding this crazy, wonderful family we’ve become.
Being on tour is a whole different world, though. It’s a mix of early mornings and late nights, and the tour bus kitchen is tiny compared to what I’m used to, but I’ve learned to make it work in between chasing Luke away from my desserts so others can have some. I’ve also learned almost everyone’s favorite meals and ensure they each get what they like.
It’s chaotic, exhausting, overwhelming…
And I love every second of it.
At the end of the night, when the stadium is silent, the lights dim, and the stage is empty, it’s just Luke and me, and everyone and everything else fades away.
No matter how crazy things get, we always find our way back to each other.
Right now, I’m on the tour bus, and I’ve just finished baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
“Something smells amazing,” Luke says, sliding his arms around my waist from behind. He nuzzles my neck, and I lean into him automatically.
“Don’t even think about stealing a cookie. They’re not cool yet.”
“But you love me. Don’t I get special privileges?”
“You get midnight privileges,” I remind him with a smile, resting against him.
Luke steals a warm cookie despite my protests. After taking a quick bite, he asks, “You’ve got that look on your face. What are you thinking about?”
“How different everything is from when we first met. Remember when I thought having my own business was my dream?”
He chuckles. “Remember when I thought I’d never sing in public?”
That makes me smile. After his performance of “Midnight Recipe” (yes, that’s what he called it), the fans wouldn’t let him hide behind his keyboard anymore. Now, he sings at least one song per show .
We still escape to our cabin in the woods when we need a break from the chaos. Last weekend, we spent three days there, just us, no phones, no schedules. Luke still asks for midnight pancakes. It reminds me of that first time, of taking chances, and of how love can find you in the most unexpected moments.
My phone buzzes with a text from Emily—something about the menu for tomorrow’s venue. My life isn’t what I imagined it would be. It’s louder, messier, more complicated. There are paparazzi sometimes, and social media can be brutal, and living on a tour bus takes some getting used to.
But then Luke pulls me into a slow dance in the tiny kitchen, humming our song, and I know I wouldn’t change a thing. This is where I belong—creating meals for the people I love, stealing kisses between sound checks, and finding quiet moments in the chaos.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my hair.
“I love you too,” I reply, breathing in the scent of him mixed with chocolate chip cookies and home.
Because that’s what this is—home. Whether we’re in the tour bus kitchen, our cabin in the woods, or stealing midnight moments in venues across the country, home is wherever we’re together .
And sometimes, the best recipes in life aren’t the ones you plan. They’re the ones that come together unexpectedly, and you find everything you never knew you were missing instead.
Life is a recipe of love, music, and midnight pancakes… and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
The End.