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

not just… moving

lip, fighting the truth in her words.

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

things, know that

“I need to cool off, think things

remember…” Chloe’s voice is soft and comforting. “You

someone’s priority.”

as I change the subject.

to be on a

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

very good.”

so soon? That must’ve

join in. The comfort of our shared humor momentarily eases my pain. “Let’s

date was thrilling, but,

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

replies, warmth evident in her voice. “And remember, you’re

the call, my

wine, its flavor, though rich,

The dining room is drenched in warm hues

glow they cast illuminates the high ceilings and ornate

care, seems to mock

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

leaves.

I whisper

begin scraping the food into the trash. The soft

risotto, the delicate veal. Everything is discarded, just like the promises Adam

of moments in our

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

wine, hits me.

say aloud, the name acting like a beacon in the

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

Adam. And I miss him,

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

on the other

voice breaks through

my impromptu plan. “Hey, Karl.

chuckles softly. “You mean the restaurant

place. I cooked up a storm,

feed an army. Care

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

furrowing, trying to decipher

he starts, “It’s

to reveal. “Adam bailed on me. Again. And I just… I don’t want

food, to go