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.”

on so quickly after Karl. Are you

not just… moving

in her words. “Adam’s not a

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

end things, know that

whirls with conflicting emotions. “I need

and comforting. “You deserve

someone’s priority.”

enters my voice as I change the subject. “Hey, speaking of

be on a

the other end. “Oh, it was…

very good.”

soon? That must’ve

our shared

date was thrilling, but,

say, feeling the weight of the

voice.

end the call,

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

drenched in warm hues from the strategically placed

glow they cast illuminates the high ceilings and ornate

chosen with care, seems

fit of fury, I swipe at a plate of caprese salad, sending cherry tomatoes

leaves.

I

scraping the

discarded, just like the

in our relationship, is

when an idea, perhaps

wine, hits me.

the name acting like

to his word. He’s an as shole, but in those ways,

And I miss

bolder by the second, and perhaps the wine lending a hand, I dial Karl’s number.

other end. What am I even doing? What

breaks through my

I plunge into my impromptu plan. “Hey, Karl.

“You

I laugh, somewhat embarrassed. “I mean at my place. I

food to feed an army.

between us, but it’s more contemplative than awkward. I can almost picture Karl,

to

starts, “It’s

my lip, debating how much to reveal. “Adam bailed on me. Again. And

this food, to go to

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