Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 82: My Alpha Sous Chef
Abby

The warm afternoon sunlight casts dappled patterns on the ground as we walk through the park,

holding cardboard coffee cups in our hands. The warmth seeps through the cup, mingling with the crisp

air. It’s a nice moment, bordering on something that feels almost normal.

And then we stop in front of it—the old oak tree.

Its massive trunk and sprawling branches are as iconic as they come. It’s always been a sort of

landmark in this small town, here long before the town was ever built. But to me, it’s more than just a

tree. It’s a bitter reminder of another life, of another version of us.

We took our wedding photos under this tree.

“Do you remember?” Karl asks, his eyes meeting mine as if he’s searching for something—recognition,

perhaps.

“Of course I remember,” I snap, maybe a little too quickly. “How could I forget?”

He looks taken aback, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Then, as though sensing he’s

wandered into a minefield, he falls silent.

We stand there for another minute, neither of us able to speak. Then I can’t hold back any longer.

“Did you ever tell the staff the truth?” I ask, my voice edged with more tension than I’d intended. “That I

never actually cheated on you with the gardener? That it was a terrible mistake?””

Karl goes silent, the creases on his forehead deepening. I wait for what feels like an eternity, my

patience waning with each passing second.

“Karl?”

He sighs. “No, Abby, I didn’t make an official announcement.”

Anger and hurt surge within me, mingling with a heavy dose of disbelief. And yet, somehow, I expected

this. It’s just like Karl, isn’t it? “That must be why Gerald was giving me dirty looks from the window

earlier.”

“Gerald did what?” Karl’s eyes flash, a ripple of anger surfacing before he reins it in.

I blanch, regretting that I let that slip. “It’s nothing, really. I just caught him giving me an odd look. And

he seemed… perturbed when I arrived.”

moment, it looks like he might explode.

himself to calm. “I’ll speak

I press, my voice

silent again, and my annoyance flares

Why didn’t you

look incompetent,” he

handle my

I retort, incredulous. “So my reputation gets

need to man up and do something about

looks at me, his eyes meeting mine without evasion this time. “You’re right. I’ll handle

Abby.”

a bit shocked. Karl is so willingly offering to make things

yet somehow, he’s exceeding

before I can say anything else, he changes the subject. “Where do

tonight?”

naming one of the countless

set of memories. But then a different idea

actually,” I say.

still lingering between us,

you want. Just say

but then the thought solidifies as a soft smile works its

want to cook. In my old

…

onion, its layers falling apart under my

with the aroma

to be cooking in my old kitchen. The

the warm amber glow from the overhead light, reminding me of old days. I

salt to the pot, watching the crystals dissolve into the bubbling sauce. Then, footsteps

from the hallway.

walks in, his

the pot. “Whatcha

the pot once more. “I remember it was one

he grins, moving

would be so easy to say yes, to let him slide back

once played so perfectly. But I hesitate, unsure.

never cleared my name. But at the same time, I can’t bring myself to be too

when he so willingly agreed to set the record

is taking over

you chop those

as fluid

of life, laughter, and the smell of

I can’t help but marvel at how well we function together. The synergy

anything. I find myself imagining what it would be like to have him

at the

perfect sous chef—steady,

if he would join

shaking my head to

am I thinking? This is just dinner,