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.”

it looks like

calm. “I’ll speak

I press, my voice filled

silent again, and my annoyance flares

didn’t you clear

it would make me look incompetent,” he

my personal matters

incredulous. “So my reputation

You need to man up and do something about

meeting mine without evasion this

Abby.”

shocked. Karl is so willingly offering to make things right. I was so angry

yet somehow, he’s

he changes the subject. “Where do you want to go for

tonight?”

moment, I consider naming one of the countless

own set of memories. But then a different idea

say.

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

Just say the

as a soft smile works its way across my

cook. In my

…

onion, its layers falling apart under my knife. The pot

the aroma of

be cooking in my old kitchen. The

the overhead light, reminding

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

from the hallway.

he walks in, his eyes

pot. “Whatcha

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

grins, moving closer. “Need any

would be so easy to say yes,

I hesitate, unsure. I’m still upset about

never cleared my name. But at the same time, I

record straight. And not when we’re in

nostalgia is taking

you chop those mushrooms

grabs a knife and starts slicing, his movements as fluid as they always were. For

used to—full of life,

but marvel at how well we function together.

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

at the

perfect

to ask him if he would join me for the competition. But at the

shaking my head to

thinking? This is just dinner,