Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

The morning after the fated dinner, | find myself wandering through the house, my steps aimless as | try to occupy my mind and distract myself from the events of last night.

The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and | can’t help but replay the argument between Karl and his brother, Ethan, over and over again in my mind.

It's bizarre to me how easily Ethan is swayed by Gianna, but it only makes it more clear just how deep her treachery runs. | keep wondering just how much of this she had planned; was this what she planned from the beginning, or was manipulating Ethan a plan B for her?

I'm leaning toward the latter right now, but | wouldn't be surprised if this was what she had planned all along. It’s obvious that all she ever had on her mind was becoming the Luna, although whether she intended on becoming Karl's Luna or his brother’s Luna is still up for debate.

Either way, | can’t help but feel a bit like an unwilling participant in all of this. All | ever wanted was happiness and peace in my life, and yet it seems as though someone always needs to throw a wrench into things.

My marriage with Karl was ruined, my restaurant might get shut down, and the Alpha gathering was a disaster—and all of it, every last bit of it, has always been pinned on me. Will it ever get to the point where | don’t have to keep proving my innocence to everyone, or is this just my fate?

As | meander down the winding hallways, however, something catches my eye; the door to Kar!’s office is open, and he’s not inside. Actually, he’s been out all morning, which is strange. It’s still very early, and | would normally expect to find him sitting behind his desk. But when | step into the doorway, his office is empty and the only light is that of the morning sun peeking through the half-closed blinds.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and | decide to snoop around—well, not really snoop, but rather check it out.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

He’s changed the office a bit since | lived here, transforming it from a more modern look to something a bit more vintage. He switched out the glass-top desk for mahogany, and now bookshelves line the once-bare walls. | like it, though. It suits him better; it's more adult.

But as | look around, | can’t help but notice something else. There’s a small picture sitting on his desk. It's laying down flat, as though he pulled it out of somewhere and was looking at it, and forgot to put it away.

| can’t resist the temptation to take a closer look, and when | do, my eyes widen slightly. It's a photo of Karl and me, taken back when we were married.

| still remember when we took that picture; it was during a weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods with Marcus and his wife. Karl and | are both smiling, wrapped in warm blankets, and the happiness in our eyes is undeniable.

| pick up the photo, feeling a rush of emotions as | look at it. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this picture, and it reminds me of a time when Karl and | were happy together, before everything fell apart.

My fingers trace the edges of the frame as | continue to stare at the image, lost in memories.

Just as I’m lost in thought, the door to the office creaks, and | jump, nearly dropping the photo. Karl steps inside, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity as he sees me holding the picture.

“Abby,” he says, his voice soft, “I didn’t expect to see you in here.”

| quickly set the photo back down on his desk, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Karl. | didn’t mean to intrude. | was just... wandering around.”

He walks over to his desk and picks up the photo, his fingers brushing against the glass. “I took this out last night,” he admits, his gaze fixed on the picture. “I've kept it in my desk drawer all this time.”

| look at him, surprised by his confession. “Why?” | ask, unable to hide the curiosity in my voice.

Karl finally tears his gaze away from the photo and meets my eyes. “To remember,” he says simply. “To remember the good times, the moments when things were a little bit easier. It’s a reminder that keeps me going when things get rough.”

His words hang in the air, and | can see the vulnerability in his eyes. It’s a side of Karl that | don’t get to see very often, and it softens my heart. Despite our differences and the pain we’ve caused each other, there’s still a connection between us, a shared history that can't be erased.

“I'm sorry for walking into your office like this,” | say, my voice hardly more than a whisper. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

Karl shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips. “It’s fine, Abby. | meant what | said when | told you that my home—our home—is always open to you. And that includes all of it.”

| nod, feeling a strange sense of relief. When we were married, Karl was always pretty secretive about his office. Maybe things really have changed. Maybe he’s growing up.

Karl breaks the silence, his voice taking on a more practical tone. “Abby, | wanted to ask if you’d like to join me for volunteering today.”

| blink in surprise at his unexpected suggestion. “Volunteering? You?” Karl chuckles, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Yes, me,” he replies. “Don’t look so surprised.”

| can't help it; I’m taken aback by his willingness to volunteer, somethi that he never showerkaliy Wetelts wien aelWere married. But then, | realize that people change, and maybe he’s trying to make amends in his own way. Please read the original content at .

“Well?” he asks. “You wanna come?”

| hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I appreciate the offer, Karl,” | s final tout AAin it's bestielstay‘out of the public eye for a while. People are already starting to view me as the Luna, and there's been some gossip.” Please read the original content at .

Karl nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, | see your point,” he says. “You should do what feels right for you. But, if you change your mind, I'll be in town. There’s a food and clothing drive today.”

| watch as he turns to leave the room, and I'm left feeling surprised by his reaction. He didn’t pus me to oihl | is and eian Cet nary or

f Med over my rejection. It’s a side of him that | haven't seen before, one that’s more considerate and understanding, and it throws me for a total loop. Please read the original content at .

As he walks away, though, | can’t help but wonder about his motives for volunteering and what's going on in his mind.

But for now, I’ll stay in the background and watch from a distance, just like the picture on his desk—reminding me of a time when things were different, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for real change.