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 is is

our gazes meet, he abruptly steps

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

around the garden, the ex-Luna now an unexpected visitor in

that I cheated on Karl with

feeling that settles

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

about my

take one last look around the garden, breathing in

make my way back towards the house. Just as I

there stands Elsie, one of the maids I had always been

light up, and before I know it,

murmur, returning the

pulling back to look at

well as

the air before she finally asks the question that

Karl…” Her words trail off, but her implication is

like that,” I assure her. “We’re just friends. He

to visit, that’s all.”

I instantly regret my choice of words.

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

Karl and I could never just be “friends”. And

deny it, a part of me wonders

Elsie,” I 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 voice drifting from

Elsie’s smirk held more truth than I’d like

phone

a message from Ethan. He’s asking a question about

that I should let it wait until I get home. But before I know it,

a boss for

through responding when the sound of footsteps

the step below me. He has a knowing look on

sparkle

a split second, I’m transported back to a

occurrence.

are you?” he asks, gesturing to

enjoying the weekend off.”

I avert my gaze. “Maybe

for my phone, gently taking it from me. “Abby, Ethan and the restaurant will survive

for a couple of days. Just try

but mostly grateful.

more work.

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

finished up a couple of things here, and now I’m free until my

cafe you used

…

cafe hasn’t changed much since I was last