Epilogue
ALANA
One Year Later
The kitchen was still a little bare—just a few mismatched mugs, some freshly bought plates, and a stack of utensils—but it was ours. Ours to fill with the messiness of our mornings, our laughter, and the small, quiet moments that felt just right.
Eden was already at the stove, flipping pancakes with that look of concentration on his face like he was a five-star chef.
I leaned against the counter, watching him. I loved mornings like this, with nothing to do but enjoy the moment.
“You’re flipping those pancakes like they’re about to land on a gold medal podium,” I teased, crossing my arms.
Eden shot me a look over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in mock seriousness. “Hey, it’s a delicate art. You don’t just throw pancakes around. It’s all about technique.”
I snorted. “Sure, whatever you say.”
“You just wait,” he said, flipping the pancake in the air with exaggerated confidence. “This is gonna be the best batch you’ve ever tasted.”
I smiled and walked over to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect.”
He turned to me with a grin, and without warning, grabbed a spoonful of batter and flicked it at me.
“Hey!” I yelped. “What the hell, Eden!”
He was laughing now, eyes sparkling. “You didn’t think I was just going to let you stand there and make fun of my pancake skills without consequences, did you?”
“You’re so dramatic,” I grumbled, but I couldn’t help but laugh, wiping batter off my cheek.
“Oh, you think that’s dramatic?” Eden raised his eyebrows. “Wait for this.”
I stepped back, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Eden scooped up a big spoonful of pancake batter and flicked it right at my face. I wasn’t quick enough to dodge it. The gooey mess landed squarely on my forehead, and I froze, mouth agape.
“You’re so dead,” I said, wiping it off and flicking a tiny bit of batter back at him.
“Is this a food fight now?”
“You started it,” I shot back, and before I knew it, I was throwing more batter his way, narrowly missing.
“Oh, it’s on now!” Eden yelled, scooping another spoonful.
We both laughed as we started chucking pancake batter at each other, trying and failing to be graceful, but absolutely losing it in the chaos.
We ended up covered in splatters—some on our faces, some on our shirts, some on the floor—but none of it really mattered. The only thing that mattered was the way we were laughing together, the way we felt like we were just two kids in the kitchen, lost in our own world.
Eventually, Eden managed to corner me, backing me up against the counter, both of us out of breath and still giggling.
“You think you’re so funny, huh?” Eden asked, eyes sparkling.
“I think I’m hilarious,” I retorted, trying to maintain some dignity. But then he leaned down and kissed me, soft and filled with so much love, his lips warm and tasting faintly of maple syrup. I melted into it, forgetting all about the pancake batter, the mess, everything.
It was like the world outside this kitchen didn’t exist. It was just us, here, together.
When we finally pulled away, I was breathless, smiling up at him. “You’re going to regret this,” I teased, licking a bit of batter off my finger. “Now you’ve got it all over your face.”
Eden grinned, brushing a bit of batter off his cheek. “I think I’m okay with that.”
“We look ridiculous,” I said, laughing.
“Yeah, but I think we make it work,” he said, giving me that look. The very one that made my heart skip a beat.
“You know we’re going to have to clean all this up now, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s alright. We’re making memories in our new apartment. You can’t possibly think that’s a bad thing.”
“I guess you’re right.” I loved the way he always saw the good in things, the way he turned even the silliest moments into something special.
We both turned back to the stove, still laughing as Eden tried to salvage the rest of the pancakes.
We continued working together, side by side, barely noticing how the mess we’d made seemed to disappear in the middle of all our fun.
I started helping him clean the counter and toss the batter-covered spatulas into the sink.
After a few minutes, everything settled down, and there was just the sound of the pancakes sizzling in the pan and the occasional soft giggle between us.
Eden flipped the last pancake onto a plate and slid it over to me with a triumphant grin.
“Ta-da,” he said, bowing dramatically.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You really are something, you know that?”
“You’re just jealous because my pancakes are superior to yours,” he teased.
I picked up my fork and stabbed into the fluffy pancake, taking a bite. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” I said between mouthfuls. “These are actually amazing.”
“I told you,” Eden said smugly, sitting down next to me. “I’m a pancake master.”
“Well, I’m still the one who’s better at cleaning up after the mess,” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him playfully.
“You’re lucky I love you.” He grinned, nudging me with his shoulder.
“I’m pretty lucky,” I agreed, smiling at him. It wasn’t often that I let myself feel this completely free, but in this moment, it was easy to do. There was no fear, no hesitation, just this.
We sat in the quiet of the kitchen, just enjoying the simple joy of eating breakfast together.
The pancakes, now mostly devoured, were nothing special on their own, just pancakes.
But when I thought about it, it was more than that.
It was our first breakfast together in our new apartment, our first meal that felt like we were building something that was just ours. And that, in itself, was perfect.
“I don’t think we’ll ever top this,” I said, looking over at Eden.
“I think we can top it,” he countered, a glint in his eyes. “We’ve got a whole life ahead of us.”
“True,” I said with a smile, “But I don’t need anything more than this moment right now.”
Eden leaned in and kissed me again, soft and easy. “Yeah, me neither.”
And for once, I didn’t need to worry about anything else. There were no doubts, no insecurities. Just the present. Just us. And that was enough.