Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 37: Late Again
Abby

The once golden glow of the candles seems dull now. The shadows in the room stretch longer, a stark

contrast to the beautifully set table, pristine and untouched. The wine, once poured with anticipation,

sits still, a silent witness to my growing anxiety. The aroma of the truffle oil, once intoxicating, now only

serves as a bitter reminder of the love I had poured into preparing for this evening.

The clock on the wall seems to mock me with its relentless ticking, each second stretching into an

eternity. My phone lays idle beside me, and the absence of a call or message from Adam weighs

heavily on my heart.

Trying to ward off the budding dread, I take a deep breath and dial his number. “Maybe he’s stuck in

traffic or something,” I think to myself. “Or, g od forbid, he got into an accident.”

After dialing his number, I hold my phone up to my ear with a shaky hand. The soft hum of the ringtone

echoes in the silence.

After what feels like a lifetime, he answers. The din of background noises hits me instantly—shouts,

laughter, the unmistakable hustle and bustle of his restaurant.

My stomach sinks. He’s working. I should have known better.

“Adam?” My voice quivers slightly.

“Abby? What’s up?”

His casual tone catches me off guard, and I try to steady myself. “What’s up? Seriously? You were

supposed to be here over an hour ago!”

“Oh…right. About that,” he starts, his voice hurried and distracted. “Look, Abby, I got swamped here.

Thought maybe you wouldn’t mind if I sat this one out. You know, have dinner by yourself? You can

save me some leftovers for tomorrow, right?”

Tears pr ick at my eyes, and I feel a twinge of anger. “This wasn’t just about the food, Adam! It was

us, about spending time together, reconnecting. This was about you showing up when

once, I actually wanted

interrupts. “Don’t make a mountain out of

whimper, biting my lip to keep

sorry, Abbs. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.

you know?”

week, when you took me out?” I counter,

sounding annoyed now. “Just like last week, when I took you

your request, might

“Be honest with me, Adam,” I say, pinching the bridge

gone with me if you had been able to work that

at your restaurant and you

hear him gritting his teeth on the other end, and it’s a few moments before

gone to work that night, I would have, Abby. You

to me. But we still had fun, didn’t

I knew all along that he would have rather gone

is like reopening

Abbs,” he pr ods. “Admit it: we had fun. It was

fun, Adam,” I hiss. “Yeah, the dancing and the drinks were fun. But

much to drink, just like you always do when

unless you’re

for a moment. The sounds of the bustling kitchen coming

can hear him put his

blood boil even

finally says. “Of course I can be

wanting to get into that

his

I hesitate, the hurt from that evening flooding back. “You couldn’t even

intimate with me.”

the room, taking in the details—the vibrant

curtains from the soft evening breeze. It all seemed so

few hours ago.

again, this time

“Adam?” I call out.

his throat. “I don’t wanna talk about it,”

about us, Adam? What about our relationship?” I ask, my

But my restaurant needs me right now, and I

just reschedule?”

the final straw. Tears stream down

How can you even suggest that? I put

you can just push