Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chapter 38

#Chapter 38: A Promise
Abby

The weight of loneliness presses down on me as the pristine table setting lies untouched. The absence

of Adam’s presence burns more than any verbal rebuke ever could. Frustration bubbles within me as I

glare at the untouched plates of food, each dish meticulously crafted to symbolize the deep affection I

hold for him.

“This dam ned evening…” I mutter under my breath.

My fingers tremble slightly as I quickly text Chloe: “Adam didn’t show. AGAIN.”

Before I can even put my phone down, it’s vibrating, and Chloe’s name flashes across the screen. I

take a deep breath and answer. “Hey.”

Chloe wastes no time, her voice thick with worry and frustration. “Abby, what the hell happened? Did he

at least call?”

I sigh, trying to hold back my tears. “I waited, Chloe. Set the table, lit candles, even put on that playlist

he loves. An hour goes by, and nothing. So I called him. And guess where he is?”

Chloe huffs. “Let me guess. The restaurant?”

“Bingo,” I mutter bitterly. “And the best part? He acted like it was just another day. Like he hadn’t

promised he’d be here just yesterday.”

There’s a pause on Chloe’s end before she says, “Abby, how many times are you going to let him do

this? This isn’t what love looks like.”

My voice cra cks a bit as I feel the irresistible urge to defend him, even though I know it’s wrong. “But

we share so much. The passion for food, our dreams… There are moments, Chloe, where everything

feels right. I love him.”

Chloe takes a deep breath, “You remember that one time we tried to bake Leah’s birthday cake, and

we accidentally mistook salt for sugar? On the surface, they looked so similar but tasted worlds apart.

Maybe that’s Adam. Looks right but isn’t good for you.”

I’m taken aback by her words, the truth in them stinging. “I… I don’t know, Chloe. Maybe I’m afraid of

being alone.”

it is,” Chloe murmurs. “You moved on so quickly after Karl. Are you sure

not just…

fighting the truth in her words. “Adam’s not

Abby, he’s a workaholic. He’s not treating you right. And

things, know that everyone

emotions. “I need to cool

Chloe’s voice is soft and comforting. “You deserve

someone’s priority.”

of mischief enters my voice as I change the subject. “Hey, speaking of priorities, weren’t

on

her blushing on the other end. “Oh,

very good.”

soon?

of our shared humor momentarily

date was thrilling, but,

Chlo,” I say, feeling the weight of the night’s

replies, warmth evident in her voice. “And remember, you’re not alone. Not

call,

of the deep crimson wine, its flavor, though rich,

dining room is drenched in warm hues from

high ceilings and

chosen with care, seems

a fit of fury, I swipe at a plate of caprese salad,

leaves.

I whisper

scraping the food into the trash.

delicate veal. Everything is discarded, just like the

moments in our relationship, is heartbreakingly

mid-way through this cathartic—albeit wasteful—process when an idea,

wine, hits me.

name acting like a beacon

different—reliable, true to his word. He’s an as

of Adam. And I miss him, and I’m

the second, and perhaps the wine lending a hand, I dial

hear the familiar ring on the other end. What am I even

voice breaks

my

softly. “You mean

“I mean at my place.

an army. Care

us, but it’s more contemplative

to

he starts, “It’s late. Is everything

lip, debating how much to reveal. “Adam bailed

this food,

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