Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 81: Home
Abby

The scent of mahogany and bergamot fills the air as I step into the room that was once mine—our

room, really.

I feel so drawn to the familiarity of it all; the embroidered curtains, the chestnut armoire that I remember

picking out myself, and the plush rug that used to cu shion my bare feet in the mornings. Every little

detail is still the same, just as I remember it. It’s uncanny, really.

My fingers trace the intricate patterns on the upholstery of the armchair near the window. It’s a bit

surreal, being back in this space. I mean, this was my sanctuary once. Our sanctuary. But now, it’s

filled with… bittersweet memories. Maybe more bitter than sweet.

I move to the dresser next. That’s when I see it: a photo of us, still sitting exactly where it used to be on

top of the dresser—Karl and I laughing at something, looking so young, so naive. My eyes widen

slightly as I gently pick it up. Did he have this picture up all this time?

As I hold the picture, something stirs in me. Tears begin to p rick the backs of my eyes, and I have to set

the frame back down with a ragged breath, laying the photo flat so I don’t need to look at it. Suddenly, it

feels all too stuffy in here, and I need to get out for a bit.

I make my way down the winding staircase and out through the large foyer, by pas sing the glances of a

few household staff. When I reach the back patio, I take a deep breath, as if I can finally breathe again.

Then, pushing open the door, I step into the garden, a sanctuary that I used to escape to when the

weight of the world felt unbearable.

The colors and smells envelop me instantly, filling my senses with a mix of nostalgia and tranquility.

Rows of roses, lavender, and daisies stretch out in front of me like an artist’s vivid canvas. I walk past a

bunch of lilies, their heads tilted towards the sun, and reach the jasmine vine that was always my

favorite. Leaning in, I take a deep sniff. Its scent is as intoxicating as I remember.

For a moment, I feel free from the memories and the speculation that my return is no doubt generating.

But then, feeling as though someone is watching me, I look up instinctively toward the mansion.

Overhead in a window, that’s where I see Gerald, the butler, staring at me through one of the back

windows.

is inscrutable, but his eyes, they hold a

he abruptly steps

a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. It must be odd for him

ex-Luna now an unexpected visitor

I cheated

the uneasy feeling that settles in

After all, I doubt Karl made a big announcement about my return. I just hope

theory about

I take one last look around the garden, breathing in deeply

my way back towards the house. Just as I reach the patio door, it

the maids I had

eyes light up, and before I know it, I’m

murmur,

look amazing,” she exclaims, pulling back to look at me. “Is life outside treating you

well as it can, I

before she finally asks the

trail off, but her implication is

a deep red. “No, no, nothing like

to visit, that’s all.”

and I instantly regret my choice of words.

she simply nods. “Well, it’s really nice to have you back, even if it’s

is as clear as daylight. In her eyes, Karl and I could never just be “friends”. And as

a part of me wonders

say softly. “It’s good

that, I make my way back into the house, each step carrying a different weight,

I reach the top of the staircase, I hear Karl’s

strange little leap. Maybe Elsie’s smirk held more truth

I hear the familiar ping of my phone and my thoughts snap back to

message from Ethan. He’s asking a question

until I get home. But before I know it, I’m

be a boss

sound of

around to see Karl standing on the step below me. He has a knowing look on his

sparkle

split second, I’m transported

occurrence.

to the phone in my hand. “You’re supposed

enjoying the weekend off.”

embarrassed shrug, I avert my gaze.

phone, gently taking it from me. “Abby, Ethan and the restaurant

a couple of days.

partly exasperated but mostly grateful. He always

more work.

missed more than I care

of things here, and now I’m

cafe you

…

I was