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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrD3JyGYLEx
The eggs were cracked.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT5wi2fknVl
The mixture came together.
But soon, little problems started appearing.
The flan wouldn’t set properly.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrMPwCsyJ1m
The mixture looked slightly lumpy.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIYSS6anqmr
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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVo9GXwOta9
Creamy.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeIKuAS0P1q
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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeqkFLQo4mL
Sharing mistakes.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6SRdLXLRsF
Celebrating small victories.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3WO63UP6V1
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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRGMf1hs8KC
The shared laughter.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKB0b6hzPSL
The playful arguments.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIrl9Du9DBf
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.