Page 70 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Val tells me about a new drink he’s been working on, something with elderflower and lavender, and I listen, fascinated by the passion in his voice.

It’s moments like this that make all the challenges worth it—the simple, everyday moments that remind me why I fell in love with him in the first place.

When we get back to the condo, Val heads to the kitchen to start dinner, and I sit down at the table, flipping through my notes for an upcoming exam. Peggy curls up at my feet, and I can hear Val humming softly to himself as he cooks. It’s a small, ordinary moment, but it feels perfect.

I reach for a sticky note and scribble a quick message—“You’re my favorite chef”—and I stick it to the fridge where I know Val will find it later. It’s a small gesture, but it’s these little things that keep us connected, that remind us of what really matters.

As the night winds down, we eat dinner together, sharing stories from our day, laughing over Peggy’s cute puppiness.

We’re tired, and there’s still so much to do, but for now, everything feels right.

We’re building a life here, one day at a time, and even though it’s not always easy, it’s always worth it.

Chicago may be different, but it’s becoming home, and I’m realizing that as long as I have Val and Peggy by my side, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

Home is us. Home is the love we share, the dreams we’re building, the life we’re creating together. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

A few weeks later, we find ourselves hosting a small dinner party for our friends who came to visit us in Chicago. The condo is bustling with laughter, conversation, and the delicious aroma of Val’s cooking.

Peggy is darting between everyone’s legs, excited by all the new faces and attention.

Mads and Skipper are here, and we’re all crowded into our small living room, glasses of wine in hand, shots of vodka lined up on the kitchen table, and talking about everything that’s happened since we moved.

Mads teases Val about his bar experiments, asking if he’s invented anything that doesn’t taste like “liquid courage with a twist of regret.”

Val grins and tells him that he’ll be the first to try his newest creation, something he’s calling “Midnight Bloom.”

We all laugh, knowing that whatever it is, it’ll probably be a lot stronger than it sounds.

Skipper, always the planner, starts talking about a group trip next summer, maybe to the Grand Canyon or somewhere equally adventurous, like New Orleans.

I catch Val’s eye, both of us smiling at the thought of another adventure with our friends.

As the night winds down, everyone starts to leave, and I feel a wave of gratitude. The condo is quiet again, just the three of us—Val, Peggy, and me.

I look around at the plates stacked in the sink, the half-empty wine glasses on the table, and I feel a sense of contentment. This is our life—full of love, laughter, and the people we care about. It’s not always perfect, but it’s our dream.

Later, as we’re cleaning up, Val finds one of my sticky notes on the back of the fridge door. He reads it aloud, smiling: “Thanks for always making the best cocktails, even when they’re a little too strong.” He laughs, shaking his head. “A little too strong, huh?”

I shrug, grinning. “Just a little. But that’s why I love them.”

He pulls me into a hug, and I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Peggy circles our feet, her tail wagging as if she knows this moment is important.

And it is. It’s another one of those small, quiet moments that remind me of everything we’ve built together, everything we’re still building.

“Here’s to our next chapter, the next movement in our symphony,” Val says softly, his lips brushing against my forehead.

“Here’s to us,” I whisper back, my heart full. I’m smiling ear to ear.

Chicago may be different, but with Val by my side, it’s home.

And I know that one day, one note, one adventure at a time is going to create a perfect happily ever after.

I wake in a cold sweat from the longest, craziest, most vivid dream I have ever experienced.

Peggy is at my feet, but Val isn’t home. He is still at the bar he loves so much, damned City Tavern.

Chicago didn’t happen. And dreaming about what could have been stabs me in the heart more than Val never being home.

We are still in NYC. What the fuck was that Laura?

The packet that contained my application was missing a recommendation letter so I was denied entrance into the masters program from urban medicine in Chicago.

Instead, I took the one here at NYU, which doesn’t pay as much and is more focused on cancer care instead of urban family medicine but at least I’m still moving forward toward my dreams.

I guess Val is, too.

How did I get here, again? Is this… our story…

CODA al FINE… THE END, or is it?

Val and Laura’s story continues to unfold in Book #2 of the HEA Hangover Series. Get ready for even more vodka when they travel to Russia to meet Val’s mother in Shots Infused .