Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 100: Mushroom Hunting
Abby

The weight of failure feels almost physical, like there’s something sharp and heavy literally lodged in

my chest.

I stare at the computer screen displaying “Truffles Unavailable” in blunt, red letters. I’ve sent countless

emails to suppliers, spent hours scouring online marketplaces, and I’ve even visited local storefronts to

browse their selection, all to no avail.

A part of me wants to give up on the recipe altogether, to throw in the towel and declare the universe

the winner in this sadi stic game it’s been playing with me. I could hope that this recipe won’t be chosen,

or at the very least, that I can read enough about it online to get a good idea as to how to make it.

But another part—perhaps the stubborn or perhaps the hopeful part—won’t let me settle for that. What

if this recipe is chosen for the competition? What if the online recipes just don’t do it justice? I need to

be prepared, and this could be my last shot at turning things around.

I close the laptop with a sigh, my eyes drifting to a framed picture of me and Chloe on a past

mushroom hunting trip. It’s not truffles, but maybe, just maybe, I could find something close, something

that’ll at least help me practice the textures and flavors.

…

“Going somewhere?” The voice slices through my thoughts, and I turn around to see Karl standing at

the doorway, his eyes lingering on my hiking boots and backpack. It’s early in the morning, too early for

anyone but me to be here. And yet there’s Karl, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as my grandmother used

to say.

“That’s none of your business,” I shoot back, my voice carrying a sharper edge than I intended. But

really, the last thing I need right now is more complications, more entanglement with him.

He steps into the room, the door falling shut behind him. “Abby, don’t be like this. I told you that I want

to help.”

but I don’t need help,” I interject, zipping up my backpack

mushroom hunting since I

penetrating,

to find truffles around here, you know

“but I need to do something, okay? I need to

stern, his posture more rigid.

you.”

a flash of Alpha energy in his eyes, a silent, commanding aura

been dealing with

way.

hear myself

meet mine, and for a split second, I see something there, a glint of something like triumph

relief. “Good,” he says, his voice

leaving me alone in my office, staring at

I just

…

my boots, each step mu ffled by a layer

earth.

hangs in the early morning air, casting the

maybe a nightmare, if something were to come out

keeps a respectful distance, his footsteps softly echoing my own. We move in

ground for any signs

to a cluster near a

take

brushing away leaves to reveal the reddish-brown caps. “Definitely not the truffles I

yes, they are edible.”

continue this way for a while, discovering

others more

I identify them,

slowly begins to lift.

we went mushroom hunting while we were still married?”

a prolonged silence. “You had to stop me from picking that

at the memory, a tinge of nostalgia sweeping over me. “You were so excited, you

it right up and ended up in the

for a brief moment, the forest becomes

morning air, and nothing else. But then guilt seeps in, muddying the moment.

like this, not when I just lost my two

But then, something happens.

sc atter as a distant shout cuts through

echoing between the

reacts instantly, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind a large oak. His body presses