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.”

murmurs. “You moved on so quickly

not just… moving

the truth in her

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

to end things, know that everyone would

mind whirls with conflicting emotions. “I need

Chloe’s voice is soft and comforting. “You deserve happiness.

someone’s priority.”

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

to be on

other end. “Oh, it

very good.”

Leaving so soon? That must’ve

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

was thrilling, but, well,

I say, feeling the weight of the night’s disappointment ease a

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

end the call, my emotions

deep crimson wine, its flavor, though

in warm

glow they cast illuminates the high ceilings and

chosen with care, seems

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

leaves.

I whisper

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

is discarded, just like the

our relationship,

this cathartic—albeit wasteful—process when

wine, hits me.

the name acting like a beacon

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

I

and perhaps the wine lending a hand, I dial Karl’s number. My

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

voice breaks

I plunge into my impromptu plan. “Hey,

chuckles softly. “You mean the restaurant

my place. I cooked up a storm,

feed an

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

trying to

“It’s late. Is

much to reveal. “Adam bailed on me. Again. And

all this food, to go to