Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#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.”

on so quickly

not just…

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

“But look, Abby, he’s a workaholic. He’s not treating

to end things, know that

with conflicting emotions. “I need to cool off,

comforting. “You deserve

someone’s priority.”

enters my voice as I change the subject.

be on

her blushing on the other end. “Oh,

very good.”

soon?

I join in. The comfort of our shared humor momentarily eases

date was thrilling, but, well,

Chlo,” I say, feeling the weight of

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

end the call, my emotions

of the deep crimson wine, its flavor, though rich, now tainted by the

is drenched in warm hues from the strategically placed candles,

cast illuminates the high ceilings and ornate woodwork of

care, seems to mock my

fury, I swipe at a plate of caprese salad, sending cherry tomatoes rolling and sca

leaves.

waste…” I

than necessary, I begin scraping the food

the delicate veal. Everything is discarded, just like the

of moments in our

this cathartic—albeit wasteful—process when an idea, perhaps influenced by

wine, hits me.

acting like a beacon

to his word. He’s an as

Adam. And I miss

the second, and perhaps the wine lending a

familiar ring on the other end. What am I

Karl’s voice breaks through my spiraling

plunge into my impromptu plan.

chuckles softly. “You mean the

mean at my place. I cooked up a storm, and

to feed an

stretches between us, but it’s more contemplative than awkward. I can

to decipher the unexpected

starts, “It’s late.

how much to reveal. “Adam bailed on me. Again. And I just… I

all this food, to go to