Chapter 8: Sweet Mistakes and New Year Plans
The year was slowly coming to an end, and New Year’s Eve was just around the corner.
We decided to do something simple. Something ours.
We were going to make leche flan together over a video call, our own little cooking plan to welcome the new year.
I was excited. I told her I would teach her, even though I wasn’t exactly a master chef myself. She was eager, eyes bright through the screen, asking questions and following every instruction carefully. Her voice carried that familiar mix of curiosity and determination.
At first, everything seemed fine.
The sugar melted.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPn9iZezSJG
The eggs were cracked.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9WqWqsUOaV
The mixture came together.
But soon, little problems started appearing.
The flan wouldn’t set properly.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2IwrBGXDHS
The mixture looked slightly lumpy.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrdYLO8JnLs
Her stove’s heat refused to cooperate.
“Are you sure this is right? ” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, yes! Just keep stirring,” I insisted, trying to sound confident.
She glanced at me with a shy grin. “I’m trying, okay? ”
And just like that, we both burst into laughter.
There were tiny moments of tension, small disagreements about how to stir, a missed step here and there, and the mixture bubbling faster than expected. At one point, we both blamed each other for the texture.
“It’s your instructions! ”
“It’s your stirring! ”
But even during our little cooking spats, the warmth in our voices never disappeared. The teasing was playful. The affection was gentle. The laughter was constant.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the leche flan was done.
It didn’t look perfect.
Far from the smooth, glossy dessert you see in pictures.
But when we tasted it later, after it had been properly chilled, it was surprisingly good.
Sweet.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1cxIl5TLn3
Creamy.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvVrJph00n7
Comforting.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
I loved the taste.
But more than that, I loved the effort. I loved that we had made it together.
“See? Not so bad, huh? ” I said, grinning at her through the screen.
She laughed. “It’s your fault it looks weird! ”
“Hey! I was teaching you! ” I protested.
But neither of us could hold our mock seriousness for long. Our laughter echoed through the call, blending with the distant sound of fireworks already beginning to pop outside.
Even in our little failures, I felt something pure.
Because it wasn’t about making the perfect dessert.
It was about us.
Doing something together.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXaavRXefSO
Sharing mistakes.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTfiPtO0nmC
Celebrating small victories.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡghXAx9Zp4f
Finding joy in the mess.
That night, as we looked at our slightly lumpy leche flan and counted down to a new year, I realized something important.
Happiness isn’t always found in grand gestures or flawless outcomes.
Sometimes, it lives in the small mistakes.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH5EyxXqt3L
The shared laughter.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQnVRzKMELq
The playful arguments.99Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW9pGkMhCm8
The quiet love hidden behind every word and every glance.
Our flan wasn’t perfect.
But that moment was.
And as fireworks lit up the sky outside my window, I felt nothing but gratitude.
Because I wasn’t just welcoming a new year.
I was welcoming it with her.
And that made everything sweeter.
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and then Add to home screen.