Page 71 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
chapter twenty-three
luna
Luna
Merry Christmas, Gabe! Or should I say Feliz Natal?!
Gabe
Maligayang Pasko
Luna
WHAT. Did you just use an emoji?? Why does this feel like a fever dream??
Gabe
You dream of me sending you emojis?
Luna
That was NOT what I said!!!
Someone thinks VERY highly of himself
I’d been inManila for two days, and I still couldn’t believe I was home.
The last time I was here, I was eighteen years old. It was only me, Mama, and Lonzo, and my biggest concern was whether I would make it to the US without being kidnapped or robbed and whether Ate would still be the same sister I had known.
Now, we were all together, yet we didn’t feel complete because Lola wasn’t with us. Every time I looked at Lonzo sitting beside me at the dining table, my chest tightened. That had been Lola’s seat. I’d spent countless meals sneaking glances at her as she ate, checking if she finished her food or needed help.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it only lodged itself deeper.
I thought I had already survived the worst of this loss. Those months of holding my breath every time I passed my parents’ room because it had been Lola’s too. Angling myself away from her chair because its emptiness wrenched the hole she’d left in my heart wider. Shutting down my emotions whenever I cooked because that had been our thing and crying through meal prep kept me from balancing flavors properly.
I’d trained myself to get used to having only three of us at the table—fed myself the story that Lola was just momentarily gone, like Papa and Ate had been. But with the table fully occupied and six of us eating dishes Lola had taught me how to make, it felt like losing her all over again.
Not even Jason’s presence distracted me from her absence.
“The spaghetti is delicious, Luna.” Ate smiled at me. “I missed your cooking.”
“Glad you like it. There’s more in the pot.” A glance at the serving dish told me it was nearly empty. Standing, I reached for it. “Let me refill it.”
“I can do it,” she said in unison with Jason, but I waved them away, already walking to the stove.
As I scooped pasta into the dish, I remembered doing the same thing last Christmas but for Gabe. How his brow furrowed the first time he tasted it because it went against his expectations of spaghetti. I smiled at the thought of cooking it for him again when I got back home.
Then I frowned. I was already home. Sterling was just the place where I studied and lived at the moment. Wasn’t it?
“Is everything okay?” Mama came to my side, carrying an empty pitcher.
My head shot up. “Yeah,” I said. “Here, I’ll do that.”
“You’ve done more than enough, cooking the entire meal.” She brought the pitcher under the water dispenser and filled it.
“I enjoyed it. I haven’t cooked for you guys in years.”
“Tala’s right—we missed your food. I try, but I could never come close to your lola’s cooking. I’m so glad you picked up her skill.”
