#Chapter 68: Reconciliation
Abby
The night weighs heavy on me, each mile that separates Karl and me adding to the burden I didn’t
think I’d ever have to bear again. I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, trying to bury
the memories of our argument and the sting of his words. It’s infuriating that he would have the
audacity to be mad about my accomplishment.
He should be thrilled for me.
Shouldn’t he?
…
I wake up the next day with dark clouds lingering in my head, mirroring the ones outside my window. I
head straight to the kitchen to work it all off. When emotions get messy, the kitchen has always been
my sanctuary. But today, even my sanctuary seems to be turning against me.
The day passes by in a blur. Before I know it, the restaurant is empty, the day having been a whirlwind
of rushes and demanding customers. Finally, I find myself alone amidst a storm of spices, ingredients,
and equipment. At least now, in the empty kitchen, I can think.
But the thing is, I’ve attempted this delicate souffle five times now. It keeps collapsing.
“D amn it!” I snap, tossing my whisk into the sink with an unwarranted amount of aggression. My apron
follows, flung across the counter as I grip the edge, my knuckles going white.
This is one of the key dishes I want to practice for the competition. I’ve never had good luck with
souffles, and it seems as though that bad luck is still getting in the way.
My heart is pounding like I’ve run a marathon, and I feel so stu pidly vulnerable standing here, defeated
by eggs and sugar. Tears of frustration are dangerously close, and I hate myself for it.
I can handle a hectic dinner rush, a dysfunctional kitchen, a competition. But to add Karl’s drama onto
it? It’s too much.
“Stop being such a drama queen, Abby,” I chastise myself aloud, rolling my eyes at my own
when I hear it—a soft clearing of a throat. My body stiffens; that sound
more times than
entrance of the kitchen, his posture stiff
fill a space even when they’re trying
things toward him whether
feels like
our eyes lock. There’s a lingering moment where neither
hangs heavy in the air
were still on. Thought you might be
the kitchen.
voice laced
stance I wish
sighs, his eyes darting to the discarded apron, the mess in the sink, and the
evidence of a culinary crime scene. “I came to
eyes, the back of them practically sore from
coated with a layer of
thick.
I almost feel bad. Almost.
my pent-up emotions spilling over like
much this means to me? This competition, this opportunity—it’s
And you want to make it about
not
to do,
and my career, and if you can’t be happy
talk,” he finally says. “If you don’t
can’t look away from him; his presence is too overwhelming, too filled with a history I’ve been trying
to talk? Really? Because last time we talked, you
felt about my success.”
am happy for you, Abby. I wish you would believe
I believe it?” I retort, gripping the edge of the counter to
demeanor changed. You said yourself that the competition would get in
he’s measuring each breath, weighing each
I said some stuff last night that I shouldn’t
for you, Abby. Way more than you realize. And I’m
eyes meet his, searching for any sign of insincerity. All I find is a quiet
even angrier. “Sorry doesn’t just erase things, Karl. You being angry about my success
of me, and I don’t have room for that kind of negativity in my life
unwavering. “I want to be supportive, Abby. I messed up.
make it right.”
can’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.
Because those are two
steps closer, closing the gap between us, and I involuntarily hold my breath. “I can’t lie and
About Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story - Chapter 68
Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story is the best current series of the author Jane Above Story. With the below Chapter 68 content will make us lost in the world of love and hatred interchangeably, despite all the tricks to achieve the goal without any concern for the other half, and then regret. late. Please read chapter Chapter 68 and update the next chapters of this series at booktrk.com