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.”

moved on so quickly after Karl. Are you sure

just…

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

she concedes. “But look, Abby, he’s a workaholic.

end things, know that

conflicting emotions. “I need to

and comforting. “You

someone’s priority.”

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

on a date

can imagine her blushing on the other end. “Oh, it was… well, let’s just

very good.”

soon?

join in. The comfort of our shared humor momentarily

thrilling,

I say, feeling the

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

call, my emotions

take a sip of the deep crimson wine, its flavor,

in warm hues

cast illuminates the high ceilings and ornate woodwork of my

seems to

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

leaves.

I whisper

the food into

veal. Everything is discarded, just like the promises

our relationship,

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

wine, hits me.

I say aloud, the name acting like a beacon in the fog of

He’s an as shole,

antithesis of Adam. And I miss him,

second, and perhaps the wine

on the other end. What am I even doing? What would

voice breaks

plunge into my

softly. “You

I laugh, somewhat embarrassed. “I mean at my place. I cooked up a

food to feed an army.

but it’s more contemplative than

to decipher the unexpected

“It’s late.

how much to reveal. “Adam bailed on me.

this food, to go

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