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 certain…bewilderment? Or

moment our gazes meet, he abruptly steps

skin, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

garden, the ex-Luna now an unexpected visitor in her former home.

that I cheated on Karl

shake my head, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that settles in

Karl made a big announcement

about my

go back inside, I take one last

my way back towards the house. Just as

and there stands Elsie, one of the maids

I know it, I’m wrapped in

see you,” I murmur, returning the hug with just as

exclaims, pulling back to look at me. “Is life outside treating

as it can,

before she finally asks

Her words trail off, but her implication

deep red. “No, no, nothing like that,” I assure her. “We’re just friends. He

to visit, that’s all.”

curl into a knowing smirk, and I instantly regret

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

eyes, Karl and I

it, a part of me wonders if

softly.

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

of the staircase, I hear Karl’s voice drifting

does a strange little leap. Maybe Elsie’s smirk held more truth than I’d like

familiar ping of my phone and

my pocket and see a message from

home. But

to be a boss for five

responding when the sound of footsteps approaches behind me.

the step below me. He has a knowing look on his

sparkle in

I’m transported back to a time when this

occurrence.

are you?” he asks, gesturing to the phone in my hand.

enjoying the weekend off.”

avert my gaze.

gently taking it from me. “Abby, Ethan

you for a couple of days.

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

more work.

a smile I’ve missed more than I care to admit. “Well, look,” he

here, and now I’m free until my

you used to

…

I