Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 80: New Horizons
Karl

The sun is barely hovering above the horizon as I pull up in front of Abby’s apartment building on

Friday morning.

I can’t help but smile as I think about the day ahead of us. My black car idles, the hum of its engine

drowned out by the pop song playing on the radio—a song I can easily imagine Abby singing along to,

although I don’t personally care for that kind of music myself.

With a deep breath, I turn off the engine and grab the to-go cup of her favorite coffee from the cup

holder.

She opens the door almost as soon as I knock, as though she was standing there, waiting. There’s a

look in her eyes that makes it seem as though she’s still on the fence about going. But the second her

eyes meet mine, the tension in her shoulders eases. Just a bit.

“Good morning,” I greet, handing her the coffee. “Figured you could use this.”

She grins, taking a sip immediately. “You read my mind.”

There’s a slight silence for a few moments. My eyes scan the inside of her apartment, where a bag sits

on the floor behind her; it’s packed haphazardly, no doubt. She’s never been the neatest traveler.

“Oh, one more thing,” she says before I can say anything. She slips her phone out of her pocket and

begins tapping furiously on the screen while her coffee cup balances precariously in the crook of her

elbow. “I have to tell Ethan—”

“Ethan will be fine without you,” I say, sn atching both the phone and the coffee cup away. “And so will

the restaurant. Just enjoy your time off, Abby.”

She glares at me for a moment, that signature stare of hers, but finally relaxes and lets out a deep sigh.

“You’re right.”

We hit the road within a few minutes. The morning sun streams through the windows, casting her face

in a warm amber glow. I plug in my phone and shuffle through a playlist I know she’ll love.

“So, long drive ahead. Music?”

“Surprise me,” she says, her fingers nervously tapping on the coffee cup.

I hit play, and the first chords of a nostalgic song—one that played at our wedding—fill the car. She

laughs, shaking her head. “Seriously?”

“Come on, it’s a classic,” I defend, bobbing my head to the beat.

Abby’s lips twitch upwards into a smile, but it quickly fades. I watch from my peripherals as she averts

her coffee cup. She

the song, ever so slightly. And

silence for about half an hour

off the main

place?”

in the direction she’s pointing, spotting the outline of an old, worn-down motel that has

a smile forming on

than once.”

on a more nostalgic tone. “You proposed to

memory is betraying you. I actually proposed at that fancy restaurant

city. What was

you’ve got it

the fireplace

voice trails off momentarily, leaving space where our memories

it, because if I do, I’ll get too distracted and possibly

car off the road.

to do near that fireplace, but no,

out for disturbing the peace after

both of us stubbornly clinging to our own versions of the

is playful, almost electric, a reminder of simpler times. I’m about to pull out my

mutual friends to settle the argument when

idiots,” she

ask, genuinely

she says, wiping a tear from the corner of her

“The lighthouse?”

me a sideways glance. “The one near your

restaurant attached?”

me like a bolt of lightning,

could I

proposed at the top,” she says, her

tone. “And then we went to the

moment, there’s a softness in her voice,

of moments, and it’s as if the years

days, miss what we were. The regret hits me like a ton of

regret that’s been there for too long, lurking

to acknowledge it.

another hour and a half of driving, the towering trees give way

haven’t been here in a few months now,

Abby beside me.

I don’t see any glimmer of doubt in

I’ll ever be,” she says, though I catch a note of

old mansion coming into view. Before I can

swings open. Gerald, our family butler for as long as I can remember,

Karl!” he exclaims, shuffling out. “How nice to—” But

falls the moment his gaze lands

asks, a thinly veiled

words.

Gerald,” Abby replies, her tone neutral. “I’m

he mutters, and though he says nothing more, his eyes

But hell, if he has a problem with Abby being here, that’s his issue

with, not ours.

bag, but she’s already grabbed it. “I

have to resist the urge to pull her