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.

they hold a certain…bewilderment? Or

steps away

a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

an unexpected visitor in her former home.

believe that I

feeling that settles in my

me. After all, I doubt Karl made a big announcement

theory about

it’s time to go back inside, I take one last look around the

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

one of the maids I had

know it, I’m

so good to see you,” I murmur, returning the hug with

back to look

as

air before she finally asks the question that I’ve been

Her words trail

nothing like

to visit, that’s all.”

smirk, and I instantly regret my

“Well, it’s really nice to have you back, even if it’s

as clear as daylight. In her eyes, Karl and I

a part

softly. “It’s good to

way back into the house, each step carrying a different weight, a

top of the staircase, I hear Karl’s voice drifting from

little leap. Maybe Elsie’s smirk

of my phone and my thoughts snap back to the present.

message from Ethan. He’s asking a question about inventory, and

until I get home. But before I

urge to be a boss

through responding when the sound of

step

sparkle

split second, I’m transported back to

occurrence.

you?” he asks, gesturing to the

enjoying the weekend off.”

shrug, I avert my gaze. “Maybe a

from me. “Abby, Ethan and the restaurant will survive

couple of

but mostly grateful. He always had

No more

smile brightens his face, and it’s a smile I’ve missed more than I care to admit. “Well, look,”

a couple of things here, and now

cafe you used

…

changed much since I was