Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

It's been a couple more days since Karl and I spent that surprisingly enjoyable day at the food drive and the subsequent stroll through the holiday market.

The memories of our time together linger in my mind, a mix of warmth and nostalgia. I'm grateful for the brief moments of connection, but a part of me wonders how long this charade can continue. Today, I'm sitting in my bedroom. I just had lunch, and I've retreated to my room for some privacy. Some of the staff here are still giving me strange looks and referring to me as “Luna” despite my attempts to explain the situation, but I've given up at this point.

Besides, I figure that I'll likely be heading home soon and that there's no point in trying to change their minds. I haven't heard from Officer Martinez yet, but I have a good feeling; although, I've been too scared to look into the news yet, so I'm not sure how the press situation is back in the city.

But then, just as I'm getting engrossed in a book, my phone buzzes on the bedside table. Startled, I reach for it and see Chloe's name flashing on the screen.

I take a deep breath, considering whether or not to answer. She's definitely going to ask where I am, and I'm not so sure if I want to tell her that I'm hiding in my ex-husband'’s house.

I hesitate for a moment before swiping to answer the call. “Hey, Chloe,” I say, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

"Abby!" Chloe's voice sounds a little concerned. “I haven't heard from you. How's everything going over there? The news is still crazy.”

“I'm fine,” I say as nonchalantly as possible. “I'm just laying low, not going out... I haven't looked at the news.”

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line. “That's probably a good call,” she says, seemingly buying my excuse. “Things are still a little crazy. I thought about coming over—"

“No!” I say, maybe a little more quickly than I should. I clear my throat, trying to steady my voice. “I mean... It's just not a good idea, Chloe,” I say. “It's best if I just stay inside and don't take any visitors. But really, I'm fine.”

Chloe, seemingly oblivious to my implications, simply sighs. “Yeah, I feel you,” she says.

With that, the two of us launch into a discussion about everything. I've been curious about what's going on with the staff from the restaurant, but am relieved to find out that everyone is fine, just as they were before.

It's a relief, although if my restaurant winds up opening again, I'm sure I'll be losing a good chunk of my front-of-house staff. Not that I blame them. I'm just glad that people seem to be finding other work.

Still, it's difficult for me to believe that it's only been a little under three weeks since everything happened. It feels like months.

“So, Abby,” Chloe says, her tone shifting to a more serious note, “have you thought about what's next? I mean, with everything going on...”

I pause, my heart sinking a little. I can't confide in Chloe about Karl's involvement in my life right now, and besides, I don't even know what my next steps are. “I'm... just taking it one step at a time," reply evasively. “No concrete plans yet. But I'll figure it out.”

Chloe lets out a sympathetic sigh. “I can’t even imagine how tough this must be for you,” she says. "But remember, you have people who care about you, Abby. You're not alone in this.”

“I know,” I say, feeling a pang of guilt for not being totally honest with her. “Thanks, Chloe.”

“And don't you dare shut yourself out,” she says. “Even if we can't see each other, you can still call me. Don't make me worry about you.”

I can't help but chuckle. “I guess I haven't been the best communicator,” I say.

“No, you haven't,” Chloe adds with a chuckle of her own. “But it's okay. We still love you...”

As our conversation continues, I realize how nice it is to hear my friend's voice. Between the stress of what's going on at home, the stress of everything that's also going on here, and Karl being busy most of the day, I feel rather lonely.

It's nice to have Elsie around, but she’s busy, too. I feel like a layabout, a bum with nothing better to do than bother people while they're trying to work.

Eventually, we say our goodbyes, and I promise to keep in touch. But as I end the call, a heavy feeling settles in my chest. How much longer can I keep up this charade?

How many more lies will I have to tell in order to protect the strange relationship that's budding between me and my ex-husband?

After ending my call with Chloe, I set my phone down on the bedside table and take a moment to collect my thoughts. I don't think I can focus on my book anymore, so I decide to leave my room and head downstairs.

The cheerful sounds of laughter and the familiar hum of activity reach my ears as I descend the grand staircase. It's then that I notice some of the servants bustling around, carrying boxes of Christmas decorations and stringing lights along the banisters.

A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I step into the living room, where Marcus is helping one of the butlers put up a tall Christmas tree.

Without hesitation, I approach Marcus and the butlers.

“Need a hand?" I ask.

Marcus looks up and shoots me a grin. “We could always use more hands,” he says.

I roll up my sleeves and join in, helping to erect the prickly tree. It's a real tree—I always refused to settle for fake ones when I lived here, and it's clear that the tradition has continued—and it smells like sap and pine.

“Feels a bit early for all of this,” I say to Marcus as we get the tree settled into its stand and anchor it to the wall. “It's only the first of December.”

Marcus shrugs, his fingers sticky with pine sap. “Karl's orders,” he says, shooting me a sideways glance. “Seems like he wants to make sure the annual Christmas party comes sooner this year.”

I can't help but furrow my brow at Marcus’ words. Karl has always thrown the Christmas party closer to the actual holiday, at least when we were married.

"Why the rush?” I ask as I grab some ribbon from a box to start decorating the tree.

“Because,” a voice suddenly calls from behind, “I have a special guest this year.”

I recognize Karl's voice immediately. Whirling around, I see him standing at the top of the stairs, a soft smile plastered on his face. Time seems to slow as he begins to descend the stars, and without meaning to, the ribbon drops out of my fingers and back into the box.

"A special guest?” I find myself asking as Karl closes the distance between us.

He smirks, and it's now that he's closer that I can see the mischievous look in his brown eyes.

“You mean you don't know, Abby?"