Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

#Chapter 39: Candlelight Reprieve

Abby

The clinking of wine glasses fills the room as I lead Karl into my living room, gesturing toward the

elegantly set dining table.

“See?” I say, pointing out the various dishes, which I’ve rewarmed in the oven since I called Karl. “It’s

almost restaurant-worthy.”

“Almost?” He whistles appreciatively, his eyes scanning the assortment of dishes. “You really went all

out. What’s the special occasion?”

Glancing down at the black dress that clings to my frame, paired with heels that I’d picked out just for

tonight, I feel a flush of embarrassment rise into my cheeks. I knew I was overdressed for just Karl, but

it’s too late now.

“It was supposed to be a special evening... with Adam,” I admit.

Karl’s gaze turns inquisitive as he sips his wine. “And he’s…?” Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

“He canceled. Last minute,” I reply, feeling the sting of the memory. “Like he always does.”

He places his glass down with a sigh. “Abby, I’m sorry.”

I wave my hand dismissively, pushing the negativity aside. “Doesn’t matter now. Let’s eat.”

The next hour is filled with lighthearted conversation, punctuated by appreciative comments about the

food. We share anecdotes, stories of our own culinary adventures, and jokes about old times.

As we slowly make our way through bottle after bottle of wine, the room fills with the kind of warmth

that only alcohol and good company can bring.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you’d cook for someone else, and it wouldn’t be me,” Karl muses,

a slight slur in his voice.

I roll my eyes, but there's a smile on my lips. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t flaked on me so much...”

Karl smirks. “One thing I never did, Abby, was stand you up.”

I snort, feeling the wine making me bolder than usual. “True. But you did something worse. You

divorced me, remember?”

Karl’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of genuine remorse. “I know. Over something that wasn’t even

your fault.”

I lower my gaze, the pain of that memory still raw. “You broke my heart, Karl.”

We sit in silence for a moment, lost in memories of what once was. The atmosphere grows thick with

unsaid words, the weight of our shared past pressing in from all sides.

Finally, Karl breaks the silence. “I know, Abby. And I want to make it up to you.”

I blink in surprise, staring at him. “You... what?”

“I want to make it up to you,” he repeats, leaning in closer.

The air between us crackles with tension. My mind races, torn between the pain of our past and the pull

of the man sitting across from me. I wonder if he’s really changed or if this is just another momentary

lapse in his commitment issues.

Our faces are inches apart now. His eyes, once so familiar, now hold a hint of mystery. His breath

warms my lips, and for a moment, I’m transported back to a time when we were inseparable.

As we stand close to one another, I’m suddenly reminded of my dream from last week. My face turns

an even brighter shade of red than it already was before.

Karl, seeing this, smirks. I feel his broad hands wrap around my upper arms, giving me a gentle

squeeze as he begins to backpedal me toward the wall. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, his voice husky.

“Your face got all red.”

I swallow and look away to dispel the images of myself riding on top of him, throwing my head back in

ecstasy. “Nothing,” I mutter.

Karl’s smirk widens. I feel the wall come up behind me, leaving me with nowhere to go. Maybe it’s the

wine, or my anger for Adam, but I’m not so sure if I would want to leave if I could. I find myself tilting my

head slightly, exposing my neck. Karl leans down and brushes his lips across my skin. His touch tends

a chill down my spine.

“I knew that you wanted this, Abby,” he murmurs. “I know you’ve missed me. Adam can’t hold a candle

to what you and I had.”

My heart wrenches; Karl is right. The wetness between my legs only further proves that point. I want

Karl, want to relive what we felt for each other before, want to make my dream a reality. I’ve missed

him, and for the first time in three years, I need to have sex with someone who has just as much

passion for me as I have for him.

But I can’t. I’m supposed to hate Karl for what he did to me all those years ago. The fact that my wolf is

still dormant after our divorce is a testament to that.

Karl begins to run his hands along my waist, though, making me shiver and momentarily forget my

hatred for what he did, for the lies that he spread.

“I miss you, Abby,” he murmurs. “And you miss me, too. Fuck Adam.”

I swallow. Half of me wants to give in and let this happen, but I know I can’t, for multiple reasons. I’m

still engaged to Adam, first of all. And second of all, I can’t forgive Karl. Not after what he did.

Just as I feel the pull of his lips drawing me closer, clarity strikes. I push him away gently but firmly.

“Karl, you need to go,” I murmur, looking away.

He looks stunned, his eyes searching mine for answers. “Abby…”

I stand, my head spinning slightly from the wine. “Thank you for coming, but it’s late. We’ll... we’ll see

each other at the restaurant another day. If you’re still planning on working for me, that is.”

Karl hesitates for a moment, his eyes lingering on mine with a mix of desire and regret. I can see a

flash of something familiar behind his brown depths: the stern, hard glare of an Alpha. He’s angry. But

he quells it, which is unlike him.

Finally, he nods, standing up. “Thank you for the meal, Abby. It was... memorable.”

I watch him leave, my heart pounding in my chest. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone

with my thoughts.

The remnants of our meal lay strewn across the table. Half-empty wine glasses, plates with crumbs, all

evidence of an evening that had taken an unexpected turn.

The warmth of the alcohol and the comfort of familiar company had blurred the lines of our past, if only

for a moment.

Sinking into the couch, I allow myself a few minutes to process the whirlwind of emotions. Regret,

longing, confusion—they all jostle for space in my head.

Picking up my wine glass, I take a final sip, the rich taste of the wine now tainted by the bitterness of

memories and what-ifs.

I know that tonight changed something between Karl and me, but whether it’s for the better or worse,

only time will tell.

One thing is for certain, though: I can’t get back together with Karl. I made a promise to myself and to

my friends. Karl isn’t good for me, not after what happened between us.

Suddenly, Chloe’s words float back through my mind. I had jumped into a relationship with Adam fairly

quickly after things ended with Karl. At the time, it felt right, like the universe was giving me another

shot at love. But now, I can’t help but wonder if it was just a test, and I failed.

Just like Karl, maybe Adam isn’t right for me, either. Maybe I should listen to Chloe after all.

Maybe it’s time to be by myself for a little while. Just me. Just Abby.