The Rise of the Ice Queen (And The Donut of Transformation)

Epilogue: The Ice Queen, The Hot Prince and the rise of The Donut King

>>>>>

So here we are, dear readers. The end of my icy tale—well, sort of. Because this isn't really the end, is it? This is just the beginning of happily ever after in the way only I, Kathy Luna Holt, can tell it: with a whole lot of sarcasm, a dash of chaos, and, of course, donuts.

*Love, Donuts, and a Proposal

Let's rewind a bit to how we got here. Maverick, after weeks of proving his worth—not just to me, but to Maison too—finally popped the question. And let's be clear, it wasn't one of those grand public proposals with fireworks or flash mobs. Oh no. It was in the office, of all places, right after a meeting where we spent forty minutes debating the importance of a budget for office snacks. Naturally, my stance was pro-donut, and I guess that sealed the deal for Maverick because right afterward, in the middle of me listing the flavors we needed to order, he just... proposed.

One knee, ring box, and all.

I blinked. I was mid-rant about the necessity of maple-bacon donuts, and suddenly, the man was on one knee, looking up at me with that stupidly handsome, hopeful face.

"Kathy Luna Holt, will you marry me?"

Do you know what my first reaction was? I laughed. That's right. I laughed so hard I almost fell out of my chair. It was all so surreal—this man, the one who had once been the bane of my existence, now proposing in front of a PowerPoint slide about corporate snack options.

When I finally caught my breath, I looked him in the eye and said, "Fine. But only if I get to choose the wedding cake flavor."

Spoiler: I said yes, and we've been an official "almost-married" couple ever since.

*The Engagement Party: A Family Affair (With Donuts)

Now, fast forward to the present—our engagement party. The whole thing is happening in the back garden of the Holt-Sanchez estate (we still haven't figured out the last name situation, but you get the point). And yes, it's as fancy as it sounds. There are twinkling lights, elegant table settings, and enough flowers to fill a small greenhouse.

But let's be real, the star of the show isn't the décor or the champagne. It's the donuts.

I insisted that the dessert table be entirely donut-based, much to the horror of our event planner. She had visions of tiered cakes and gourmet macaroons, but I squashed that like the corporate boss I am. Donuts are part of my story—our story—and if you've followed along, you'll know they are more than just a snack. They're symbols of transformation, of love, and of the joy that comes with sugar and carbs.

And then, of course, there's Donut—my cat, the fluffy queen of the household, who has somehow wormed her way into the hearts of everyone around her. This engagement party would not be complete without her. She's currently strutting her way toward the donut table, her feline eyes locked on the honey-glazed ones.

Maison is right beside her, holding his stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a chocolate-sprinkled donut in the other. Together, they look like a mini tornado of chaos waiting to wreak havoc on the dessert table. As I watch them, I can't help but smile. These two, my son and my cat, are a force of nature. But they're my force of nature.

And let's be honest, Donut (the cat, not the pastry) has developed quite a refined palate. I see her pawing at the honey-glazed donut, and before anyone can stop her, she's tasting it, because why not? She's the queen, after all.

*The Families

The best part? The families are finally united and—get this—they're actually getting along. Sitting at the same table, no less. It's like a miracle wrapped in layers of disbelief.