Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0127

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.”

Karl’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like he might explode. Then he exhales deeply, as

though forcing himself to calm. “I’ll speak with him.”

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

He falls silent again, and my annoyance flares up once more.

“Karl? Why didn’t you clear my name?”

“I… I thought it would make me look incompetent,” he finally admits, avoiding my eyes. “That I couldn’t

even handle my personal matters properly.”

“Incompetent?” I retort, incredulous. “So my reputation gets tarnished because you’re worried about

your image? That’s not fair, Karl. You need to man up and do something about it.”

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

Abby.”

Admittedly, I’m a bit shocked. Karl is so willingly offering to make things right. I was so angry with him,

and yet somehow, he’s exceeding my expectations.

But before I can say anything else, he changes the subject. “Where do you want to go for dinner

tonight?”

For a moment, I consider naming one of the countless restaurants we used to frequent, each carrying

its own set of memories. But then a different idea pops into my head.

“I’m tired, actually,” I say. “I’d rather just stay in.”

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

anywhere you want. Just say the word.”

I hesitate, but then the thought solidifies as a soft smile works its way across my lips. “You know what?

I want to cook. In my old kitchen.”

… © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I slice through an onion, its layers falling apart under my knife. The pot simmers on the stove, filling the

air with the aroma of garlic and herbs.

It’s soothing, grounding, to be cooking in my old kitchen. The sleek stainless steel countertops are

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

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

from the hallway.