“I’ll be posting my first official video later this week. Starting with a simple recipe, so good and of course there is a story behind it! It’s gonna knock your socks off, I promise! After that, I’ll be posting regularly, full recipes, long-form content, maybe some tutorials. But mostly, because this is a calling for me, there’s comfort food. The stuff you grew up on. The go-to, feel-good favorites that taste like home.”
She paused, brushing a curl from her cheek with the back of her hand, her smile softening.
“But then…there are the dishes that surprise you. The ones you weren’t sure about—maybe a little spicy, a little different. The ones that challenge your palate and end up changing the way you think about what you like. Sometimes, trying something new is the best way to find out who you are.”
She leaned a little closer to the camera, voice dropping just enough to feel like a secret. “And hey, if the people you love end up loving it too? That’s just icing on the cake.”
Luna grinned, then winked.
“Until next time… Subscribe. Catch me live, and if you’re willing to share, email me your favorite recipes!”
The video ended. The screen faded to her channel’s homepage again, that old photo of her and her gran still visible.
I sat there staring at it, my hand wrapped around the sweating bottle of beer.
She was doing it. On her own terms. Bright. Brave. Beautiful.
And happy.
I was proud of her.
Almost as much as I missed her.
When she’d walked away from me in Vegas, I didn’t stop her. I’d told myself it was the right thing. She needed time. Space.
But the truth of the matter was…I had let her go because I couldn’t stand the thought of being someone she’d resent. Another man who made her choose him over herself.
Not because I didn’t want her.
Not because I didn’t love her.
But because I did.
And seeing her now in that video…that smile, the way she lit up just talking about food, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so damn happy for someone.
She was doing it. Not for me. For herself.
The same girl who’d been afraid of a few ghosts, afraid to stare out the bus window, was now standing in front of a camera, talking to strangers like they were old friends.
She was coming into herself. And she hadn’t waited for permission.
And God, that hit somewhere deep.
Maybe it was time.
Maybe she’d had enough space.
Maybe…she was ready to choose.
The cursor hovered over the About tab on her channel, where I knew her business email was listed. And I was trying to figure out what the hell I could say that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot?—
When my phone rang.
Mom.
I hesitated. Then swiped to answer. “Hey.”
“Noah, darling. How are you?”
