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.”

is,” Chloe murmurs. “You moved on so quickly after Karl. Are you sure

not just…

in her words. “Adam’s not

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

know

mind whirls with conflicting emotions. “I need to cool off, think things

is soft and comforting. “You deserve happiness. You deserve to

someone’s priority.”

mischief enters my voice as I change the subject. “Hey, speaking of priorities, weren’t

on

her blushing on the other end. “Oh,

very good.”

soon? That must’ve

comfort of our shared humor

was thrilling,

I say, feeling the weight of the

in her voice. “And remember,

call, my

wine, its flavor, though rich, now tainted by

dining room is drenched in warm hues

glow they cast illuminates the high ceilings and

chosen with care, seems to

swipe at a plate of caprese salad,

leaves.

I

than necessary, I begin scraping the food into the trash. The soft

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

moments in our relationship, is heartbreakingly thrown

when

wine, hits me.

say aloud, the name acting like a beacon

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

Adam. And I miss him,

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

the other end.

breaks through my spiraling

plunge into my

chuckles softly. “You mean the restaurant

place. I cooked up

food to feed an

us, but it’s more contemplative

furrowing, trying to

he starts, “It’s late.

debating how much to reveal. “Adam bailed

all this food, to go

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