Chapter 105
Abby

The night weighs heavy on me, each mile that separates Karl and me adding to the burden I didn’t

think I’d ever have to bear again. I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, trying to bury

the memories of our argument and the sting of his words. It’s infuriating that he would have the

audacity to be mad about my accomplishment.

He should be thrilled for me.

Shouldn’t he?

I wake up the next day with dark clouds lingering in my head, mirroring the ones outside my window. I

head straight to the kitchen to work it all off. When emotions get messy, the kitchen has always been

my sanctuary. But today, even my sanctuary seems to be turning against me.

The day passes by in a blur. Before I know it, the restaurant is empty, the day having been a whirlwind

of rushes and demanding customers. Finally, I find myself alone amidst a storm of spices, ingredients,

equipment. At least now, in the empty kitchen, I

is, I’ve attempted this delicate souffle five times now.

tossing my whisk into the sink with an unwarranted amount

across the counter as I grip the edge, my knuckles

want to practice for the competition. I’ve

it seems as though that bad luck is still

marathon, and

of frustration are dangerously close, and I

a dysfunctional kitchen, a

it? It’s too much.

Abby,” I chastise myself aloud, rolling my

I hear it—a soft clearing of a throat. My body stiffens;

my senses more times than I can

of the kitchen, his

even when they’re trying to make themselves

him, always has, pulling things toward him whether

that gravity feels

There’s a lingering moment where neither

in the air

might be here,” he finally

the kitchen.

are you doing here, Karl?” I ask, my voice laced with more bitterness than

taking on a defensive stance I wish I

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