Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 67: Crossroads
Abby

The tension in the room feels palpable, a thick curtain of unsaid words and unexplored emotions

hanging in the air between Karl and me. My grip tightens on the knife handle as I glance at the chaos of

ingredients strewn across the counter.

“Tell me first,” I blurt out, wanting to avoid the inevitable confrontation as long as possible. “What are

you doing here? The restaurant closed hours ago.”

Karl sighs and shakes his head, walking past me and over to the line. I watch as he bends down

behind the counter and disappears for a moment, muttering to himself, before he stands back up and

holds something up in the air: his wallet.

“Dropped this earlier,” he says, slipping it into his pocket. “Wanted to come back and make sure it was

here. Now it’s your turn. What are you doing here at…” He glances at his watch. “One o’clock in the

morning?”

I swallow, glancing around at the ingredients and half-cooked dishes all around the kitchen. The sink is

full of empty dishes from failed attempts, the trash can is practically overflowing with said failed

attempts, and the various successful attempts are lined up on the adjacent counter for pictures to keep

in mind for presentation ideas.

“I, um…” I find myself choking up slightly. “I’m just practicing,” I half-lie. “Wanted to test my skills.”

Karl raises an eyebrow. “And waste all these ingredients? You’re not that type of chef.”

I nearly curse out loud. Karl is right; I’ve never been the type to waste ingredients.

Even in the past, when I’ve gone on creative cooking sprees, I would never just throw things away

when the dishes don’t turn out perfectly. There’s a food pantry right down the street that I visit

to donate dishes, and when I lived with Karl, the servants

leftovers.

tell me, Abby.” Karl finally breaks the silence, his voice tinged with impatience.

has been

to something huge here

know. Why keep

eyes meeting his. There’s no point

rip off the band-aid now.

finalists to compete to

for a fraction of a second before

“That’s great, Abby. I’m proud

His voice lacks the warmth I had hoped for, and his smile

I feared all this time—that he’d prefer that I go to the

instead of catering it.

sound like you mean it,” I p rod,

proud of you,” he retorts, clearly irritated

says

through his hair. “Look, I wanted to go to the Alpha party with

catering thing sort of ruins that, though, doesn’t

some reason, even though I expected this sort of response

part of me that hoped that he really has changed, that

of making it about

you wanted to go to

party, Abby. The Alpha party is a big deal. I thought it could be something special

eyes locked onto mine. “And besides, you

heart pounds in my chest. “I didn’t forget,” I

and everything. I’m sorry, but I

says, turning away from me for a moment. “But

to you too? I thought you wanted to go with me.” His

the empty kitchen.

“I’ve told you countless times before that it’s not going to

between us.”

low and strained, like he’s trying

on a string this whole time, giving me vague

not forget what

The memory of our night right here in this kitchen whirls through

felt to