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

just… moving

lip, fighting the truth in her

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

things, know that

whirls with conflicting emotions. “I need to

soft and comforting. “You deserve happiness. You

someone’s priority.”

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

be on a date

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

very good.”

soon?

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

was thrilling, but,

say, feeling the weight of the night’s

her voice.

call, my

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

warm hues from the strategically placed candles,

glow they cast illuminates the high ceilings and ornate woodwork of my apartment.

seems to

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

leaves.

I whisper

scraping the food into the

risotto, the delicate veal. Everything is discarded,

in our relationship,

when

wine, hits me.

aloud, the name acting like a beacon in the fog of my

to his word. He’s

And I miss him,

the second, and perhaps the wine lending a hand,

the familiar ring on the other end. What am I even doing?

breaks through

my impromptu

chuckles softly. “You mean

at my place. I cooked

food to feed an army. Care

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

trying to decipher

he starts, “It’s late. Is everything

bite my lip, debating how much to reveal. “Adam bailed

all this food, to go to

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