Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

It was a warm spring day, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, casting a soft, pink hue over the entire park.

Karl and I had been dating for three months now, and our wedding was fast approaching. Our marriage was arranged, and we were fated mates, but neither of us had uttered those three little words yet.

But lately, I had been thinking about it more and more.

I wanted to tell Karl that I loved him, but the fear of rejection always held me back. What if he didn't feel the same way yet? What if I scared him off? These thoughts haunted me, but today, as we strolled through the park hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel that the time was right.

We found a quiet spot under a canopy of cherry blossoms and spread out a picnic blanket. The scent of the delicate pink flowers filled the air, and the soft rustling of leaves added to the serenity of the moment. We shared a box of pastries, our fingers brushing as we reached for the same one. And then Karl looked at me with those deep brown eyes of his, and I felt my heart race.

I could see the love and affection in his gaze, but he still hadn't said the words I wanted to hear so badly. But I knew that today was the day; I knew that, even if he didn't say it, I needed to tell him how I really felt.

I took a deep breath and finally mustered up the courage to speak. “Karl,” I began, my voice soft but determined, “there's something I've been wanting to—"

But before I could finish, Karl suddenly turned to face me, his cheeks flushed red. “I love you, Abby,” he suddenly said.

My eyes widened, and I blinked incredulously, taken completely aback.

Here I was, about to tell Karl that I loved him, and yet he had said it first.

“You're joking,” I murmured, pulling my hand back.

Karl's eyes flashed with a combination of shock and regret, and he quickly looked away. “I'm sorry,” he said, sounding more embarrassed than I had ever heard him. “I shouldn't have said that. It's too soon, and—"

“No, Karl,” I said, a slight chuckle escaping my lips, “I'm just in shock because... I was about to say it first.”

Slowly, Karl turned back to look at me. Now, his face had shifted from hurt and embarrassment to excitement and wonder. “Really?” he asked. “You were gonna say it?"

I nodded, laughing again. “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I was about to say it. It's like you read my mind.”

The two of us laughed in unison, taken aback by our mishap. “Is it true?” Karl finally asked, his hand reaching out to cup my face. “You really love me, Abby?”

I wiped away a tear that had escaped down my cheek and nodded, my heart overflowing with love for this boy who I had only just met, but who I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with—or so I thought at the time.

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, Karl.”

He leaned in, and our lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss under the cherry blossoms. His lips were warm and sweet, and a little sticky from the cookies we had shared

I never stopped thinking about that kiss. Not once.

The final notes of the music echo through the room as the dance comes to an end. I'm left wondering what this “bet’ is that Karl wants to propose, and something about it is creating a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Of course he would never accept my conditions without even more conditions of his own. I always have to get the short end of the stick, don't I?

"So, what's the bet?” I ask, my voice somehow steady despite the racing feeling in my chest.

Karl looks at me with an amused glint in his eyes, his lips curving into a knowing smile.

“It's simple,” he says, his voice so low that it's barely above a whisper to keep anyone else from hearing our conversation. “Once you catch feelings for me again—and you will—then I want to marry you again.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face, and I take a step back, creating some distance between us. “Marry you again?” I stammer, unable to hide my shock. “So soon? That's not a good idea, Karl.” Karl simply shrugs, his nonchalant demeanor infuriating in this moment. “Those are the stipulations of my bet, just as you've set yours. Fair is fair, isn't it?"

I narrow my eyes at him, my mind racing for an alternative. Right now, I can't fathom the idea of marrying him again, not after all that's happened between us. There has to be another way to settle this bet. Something less... severe.

But then I have an idea.

“Actually,” I say, my determination returning, “I have a counterproposal. Something that will be a bit more fair for both of us; level the playing field, you know?”

Karl raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself over the absolutely insanity I'm about to suggest. I can't believe I'm doing this, but in a strange, twisted way, I'm also... excited.

"How about this,” I say. “Whoever says “l love you’ first will have to move to the other's location. If I say it first, Ill move back here, and if you say it first, you'll move to the city.”

Karl considers my proposal for a moment, his gaze locked on mine. There's a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe uncertainty, or maybe just curiosity. But then he smirks, that infuriatingly confident smirk of his.

“You think that's a fair bet?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement. “You had better be prepared to lose, then, Abby. I see the way you look at me.”

I feel my cheeks turn what I'm sure is a bright shade of red beneath his gaze, but I lift my chin up and stand my ground. “Like you haven't been chasing me for months like a lovesick puppy,” I tease, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe you're the one who should start packing your bags.”

Without hesitation, Karl extends his hand, and I take it, our fingers interlocking in a firm handshake. The terms of our bet are set, and the stakes are high. As we shake on our new deal, I can't help but kick myself inwardly for getting myself into this.

Logically, I know that I should be home in my apartment, riding out the storm; but instead I'm here, placing bets and beginning fake relationships with my ex-husband... And I'm even planning on having a baby with him, assuming these supposed “treatments’ will work.

Or if they even exist.

"Alright then,” Karl says once we shake hands, his voice low and strangely seductive despite the circumstances. “Let the games begin.”

"Prepare to lose, Karl,” I add with a smirk. “My apartment has room for two.”

Karl's smirk turns into a wry grin, and his eyes flicker down to my belly, the place where, if I'm lucky, a baby might just be able to take root after years of infertility.

“And my mansion has room for three,” he whispers, his brown eyes meeting mine.