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.

but his eyes, they hold a certain…bewilderment? Or is is something

gazes meet, he abruptly steps away from the window

my skin, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. It must be odd

ex-Luna now an unexpected visitor in her former

here still believe that I cheated on Karl with

to dispel the uneasy feeling that settles

I doubt Karl made a big announcement about my return. I

the theory about my

inside, I take one last

back towards the house.

there stands Elsie, one of the maids I had

I know it, I’m wrapped in

you,” I murmur, returning the hug with just

pulling back to look at me. “Is life

laugh. “As well as it can, I

air before she finally asks the question that

you and Karl…” Her words trail

deep red. “No, no, nothing like

to visit, that’s all.”

instantly regret my choice of

nice to have you back, even if it’s just for a…

subtext is as clear as daylight. In her eyes, Karl

like to deny it, a part of me wonders

I say softly.

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

I hear Karl’s voice drifting from the

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

the familiar ping of my phone

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

should let it wait until I get home. But before I know it, I’m typing

urge to be a boss for

halfway through responding when the sound

I whip around to see Karl standing on the step

sparkle in

a split second, I’m transported back to a time when

occurrence.

to the phone in

enjoying the weekend off.”

embarrassed shrug, I avert my gaze. “Maybe

for my phone, gently taking it from me. “Abby,

for a couple of days. Just try

look at him, partly exasperated but mostly grateful. He always had a knack for

more work.

missed more than I care to admit. “Well, look,” he

now I’m free until

cafe you used to

…

I was