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

I actually wanted you

on, Abby,” he interrupts. “Don’t make a

lip to keep it from

Abbs. I didn’t think it would be that big

you know?”

you took me out?”

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

your request, might

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

been able to work that night. It was only

your restaurant and you had nothing better to

can almost hear him gritting his teeth on the

have gone to work that night, I would

is to me. But we still had fun,

almost feel sick. I knew all along that he would have rather gone to work that night, but hearing

like

it: we had fun. It was

hiss. “Yeah, the dancing and

to drink, just like you always do when

me unless you’re

The sounds of the bustling kitchen coming through his

I can hear

my blood boil even more. It’s like I’m not

not true,” he finally says. “Of course

my teeth, not wanting to get into that aspect

that’s his own problem to solve, not

the hurt from that evening flooding

intimate with me.”

around the room, taking in the details—the vibrant colors of the fresh

sway of the lace curtains from the soft evening breeze. It all

few hours ago.

again, this

“Adam?” I call out.

about it,” he says quietly. “Sh

our relationship?” I ask, my voice

needs me right now, and I can’t be in two places at once. Can’t

just reschedule?”

the final straw. Tears stream down my face, and I

can you even suggest that? I put my heart and soul into tonight. This isn’t

can just push to another