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. Then

forcing himself to calm.

setting the record straight?” I press, my voice filled with frustration. “About

again, and my annoyance flares up

you

look incompetent,” he finally admits, avoiding my eyes. “That I

handle my personal

my reputation gets tarnished because

That’s not fair, Karl. You need to

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

Abby.”

Karl is so willingly offering to make

he’s

else, he changes the subject. “Where do you want to

tonight?”

naming one of the

memories. But then a

actually,” I say. “I’d

tension still lingering between us, but easing somewhat. “Alright, I

Just say

but then the thought solidifies as a soft smile works its way across my

cook.

…

layers falling apart under

with the aroma of garlic and

soothing, grounding, to be cooking in my

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

crystals dissolve into the bubbling sauce. Then, footsteps

from the hallway.

as he walks in, his eyes meeting mine for a moment

the pot. “Whatcha

Bolognese,” I reply, stirring the pot once more. “I remember it was one

he grins, moving closer.

guard. It would be so easy to say yes, to let

he once played so perfectly. But I

But at the same time,

agreed to set the record straight. And not when we’re in

the nostalgia is taking

you chop those mushrooms

starts slicing, his movements as fluid as they always were. For a brief

of

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

changed anything. I find myself imagining what it would

at

be the perfect sous

part, prepared to ask him if he would join me for the competition. But at the last moment,

shaking my head

This is just dinner,