Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

I stand in the dimly lit kitchen, leaning against the counter with a half-empty glass of wine in my hand. The soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound breaking the silence of the night.

Dinner with the team was lively tonight, filled with laughter and chit-chat, but now the quiet feels heavy, almost suffocating. I can't stop thinking about what Chloe said earlier about not making a choice I'll live to regret, and the thought of it has kept me awake. Everyone else has long since gone to bed in their respective rooms, but I slipped out of bed and snuck down to the kitchen for a glass of wine to calm my nerves.

I'm lost in my thoughts when I suddenly hear the sound of footsteps approaching. A moment later, Karl steps into the room. He's in his pajamas, a loose pair of pants and an oversized hoodie, and his hair is a little messy from tossing and turning. I always thought he was cute when he's like this.

“Oh, hey,” he says, eyeing my glass of wine. “I didn't expect to see you in here."

I nod, taking a sip of my wine. “Couldn't sleep,” I admit. “I take it you couldn't, either.”

Karl shakes his head. He walks past me and picks up the bottle of wine sitting next to me, inspecting the bottle for a moment before he grabs a glass out of the cabinet and pours one for himself. “Cheers,” he says, holding up his glass. I respond with a slight smile and clink my glass against his. For a few moments, we just stand there in silence as we drink our wine. I think that everything has been such a whirlwind lately that we're both too exhausted to speak, which I appreciate. But the moment is short-lived.

"Abby, can we talk?” he asks, his voice gentle yet carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. I nod, setting my glass down. The clink of it against the countertop sounds louder than usual in the quiet of the kitchen.

Karl leans against the opposite counter, his eyes searching mine. “Why did you decide to tell Chloe and Leah only part of the truth?” he inquires, his tone not accusatory but genuinely curious.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. “I didn't feel right keeping the baby part from them,” I admit, my gaze drifting to the window where the moon casts a soft glow on the garden outside. “They're my friends, Karl. They deserve to know about something so important in my life, you know?”

Karl nods, a look of understanding flickering through his eyes. “And the other part?” he probes gently, referring to the more... intimate aspect of our arrangement.

I look back at him, my heart skipping a beat as I think about what we promised to each other. Casual sex—only for “practicality’, of course. A way to let our frustrations out, and if my treatments work, to fulfill that portion of our deal. At least, that's what I keep telling myself, but I'm not stupid; I know there's far more to it than that.

"I appreciate that you didn't mention that to them,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I'd like to keep that aspect private, at least for now. I just don't feel comfortable airing everything about our personal lives.”

There's a pause, a moment where the air between us feels charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Then Karl pushes himself off the counter and closes the distance between us. His hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

“You don't have to apologize for not telling them about us... about the sex,” he says, his voice low and reassuring. “It's your choice, Abby. You decide what you want to share with others, and I'll support you, no matter what.”

His words take me by surprise; the old Karl never would have taken something like this so easily. I expected him to be hurt, to claim that I'm embarrassed of him or something, but he seems perfectly understanding.