Chapter 8
A few days later, the head chef approached me with a warm smile and eyes full of appreciation.
“Julissa, we’re lucky to have you. Our team’s been needing someone like you.”
I waved my hands modestly. “Thank you for giving me the chance. I’ll do my best.”
“There’s an international culinary exchange happening in a month,” he added. “You’re coming
with me.”
An exchange? I lit up inside.
This wasn’t just any event–it was a global showcase, something only top–level chefs got invited to.
I said yes without hesitation.
Since arriving in Europe, I’d thrown myself completely into work–attending workshops, experimenting with new recipes, and meeting some of the best chefs in the field. They shared their
secrets, and I soaked up everything like a sponge.
Back home, I cooked too, sure–but it was mostly trial and error in my kitchen or casual chats with
coworkers. This trip? It changed everything.
I messaged Eden right away, sharing the good news and asking her to come see me in action.
She wrote back with an update on the pack.
Kendra had been arrested. And Landon? Not only did he refuse to help her, he actually testified-
offered up evidence that added years to her sentence.
Eden: [Talk about cold, he screwed you over for her, and now he’s kicking her while she’s down?]
I replied simply: [The only thing that stays the same is how things change.]
Time passed like water slipping through fingers. I didn’t hear from Landon again–until the day of
the exchange.
When I stepped onto the stage, lights blanketed my face. Every seat was filled. Cameras flashed as reporters leaned forward with questions.
“Julissa, through all the challenges on your culinary journey, who are you most grateful to?”
I paused.
Years ago, I would’ve answered without a second thought: Landon. He was the one who first pushed me toward cooking, who carved his mark into my soul.
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But now?
I looked out at the crowd–Eden clapping proudly, the head chef beaming, my new colleagues cheering me on.
I smiled. “A friend. I’m most grateful to a friend.”
No more clinging to the past. No more looking back.
After the event, the head chef pulled me aside, eyes gleaming.
“You crushed it today,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement. “You owned that stage. Now listen–if someone tries to poach you, stay strong!”
I laughed and nodded, joy bubbling up in my chest.
Then I spotted him.
Landon..
He stood off to the side, alone in the crowd, eyes burning like wildfire as they locked onto me.
I offered him a smile. A gentle, distant one.
The kind you give when it’s over.
He lifted his phone slightly, a silent question on his face. I nodded and followed him to a nearby
café.
Once we sat down, he looked at the waitress and said softly, “One latte. Light on the sugar.”
He still remembered my usual–down to the sugar ratio. But the truth was, I didn’t even like sweet
drinks anymore.
He wrapped his hands around the cup and asked quietly, “How’ve you been?”
“I’m good,” I replied, steady and clear. “Closer to my dream than ever.”
He gave a small nod, raising his cup to mine in a silent toast. “Congratulations.”
We sat in silence for a moment before he finally spoke again, voice raw. “If Kendra hadn’t been in the picture… do you think we would’ve made it?”
I shook my head. “If there hadn’t been a Kendra, we never would’ve even happened.”
His smile cracked. His shoulders trembled slightly, like he was fighting something inside.
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A tear landed on the back of his hand, but he didn’t bother wiping it away.
“You’ll find your true mate one day,” I said gently, standing up.
He didn’t answer. I felt his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.
But I didn’t turn around.
I returned to the hall, where Eden rushed over, eyes narrowed.
“What the hell did he want?”
I sighed. “Just a ghost trying to hold on.”
After the exchange, I poured myself back into my work, experimenting, pushing limits.
Eventually, it paid off–I was named a Master Chef.
The whole team celebrated like we’d won the lottery. The room burst into applause, champagne
corks popped, and streamers flew through the air.
From the second–floor landing, Nathaniel launched a confetti cannon like an overgrown kid.
“Boom!”
I glared playfully up at him, brushing streamers from my shoulders. He just grinned and mouthed, “Be a lady!”
My phone buzzed with a message from a familiar name.
Landon: [Congratulations.]
I typed two words in reply: [Thanks.]
Then I turned my phone off.
I looked out at the cheering crowd, at the lights, at the life I’d built for myself–and felt nothing but
peace.
Whatever storm had raged between Landon and me… it was over.
And now, I–Julissa Crosswell–was finally free to chase a future that belonged only to me.
