Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 116

Abby

It’s a short walk to Chloe’s apartment, but it seems to drag on forever as my mind whirls with possibilities. What will I say to Chloe? Will she even want to speak to me? What if this truly is the end of our friendship?

When I finally reach her door, my hand hesitates in the air, hovering over the doorbell. This needs to be done, I remind myself, and I press the button.

The door swings open, and I’m met with Chloe’s look of surprise. There’s a glass of wine in her slightly shaking hand, and her eyes are wide.

“Abby? What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice as cold as ice.

“I know it’s late, but I needed to talk to you,” I respond. “Please. Are you busy?”

Her eyes flicker. There’s a flash of hesitation there. “I’m not sure if I want to talk, Abby.”

“It’s important,” I insist. “It’s about the restaurant, the cook-off, everything. I need my friend.”

She opens her mouth, maybe to say something, maybe to invite me in, but then her eyes narrow. “Are you still talking to Karl?”

I blink. “Yes, Karl’s been helping me out, but—”

“Then this conversation is done.”

The door starts to close, but I wedge my foot in the gap, a sudden burst of desperate courage. “Chloe, please. Can’t you just hear me out?”

Chloe looks down at my foot, then back up at me. “You should leave, Abby.”

“No,” I say firmly. My voice shakes, but I lock eyes with her. “I won’t go. Not until we’ve talked this through. We owe each other that much, don’t we?”

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, I think she’s going to slam the door on my foot. But then she sighs, steps back, and pulls the door open wider. “Fine. Come in.”

As I step inside, the smell of Chloe's apartment envelops me—vanilla-scented candles and the lingering aroma of dinner. It’s familiar, comforting, and utterly gut-wrenching, given the circumstances.

“So?” Chloe says, putting her free hand on her hip and leaning against the wall. “Talk. Now.”

I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Look, Chloe, I understand why you’re upset with me. And I can’t pretend I’ve made all the right choices. But shutting me out like this—it’s not fair.”

She snorts. “Not fair, Abby? You want to talk about fair? It’s not fair that you’ve put everyone at risk by bringing a… a lunatic into the restaurant!”

“Karl?” I hiss, exasperated. “He’s not a lunatic, Chloe. And regardless, I need you. We’re friends.”

“Yeah, friends,” Chloe scoffs, taking a bitter sip of her wine. “You’re right, Abby. We are friends. And sometimes, when your friend keeps making bad life decisions over and over, it’s time for some tough love.”

I wince. “I know, I know I’ve made bad decisions. But I'm trying to make it right. That’s why I’m here.”

Chloe shakes her head. “Clearly you’re not actually trying to make it right if you’re still entertaining Karl.”

I sigh. “Karl has made mistakes, and I’m not defending that. He was truly awful for a long, long time. But you need to understand that we all make mistakes, Chloe. And we’re all trying to get better, day by day.”

“Oh, is that so? And your way of ‘getting better’ is to stick by your horrific ex-husband?” she asks, incredulous.

“My way of getting better involves sticking by my friends,” I reply softly. “All of them.”

Just then, I hear footsteps and turn to see Leah emerging from the hallway, glass of wine in hand. “Chlo, what’s—” She freezes when she sees me, her eyes widening.

“Abby?” Leah’s voice trembles ever so slightly upon seeing me. I think I can see a hint of what looks like embarrassment in her eyes, but there’s hope there, too.

“Don’t mind her,” Chloe growls, blocking my way. “Abby was just leaving.”

Before I can say anything, Chloe grabs my shoulder and begins guiding me back to the door, gently but with firm conviction. As we reach the doorway, however, I wrench myself free and whip around to face her and Leah again.

“You both need to listen to me,” I begin, and instantly, Chloe’s eyes flash.

“No one is going to listen to you,” Chloe hisses. “You need to leave.”

“Let her talk, Chloe,” Leah interjects, her voice softer than I expected.

Shooting Leah a thankful look, I take a deep breath and steel myself. “Guys, you need to give Karl another chance. He’s helped me so much lately, and I’m tired of pretending that he’s still just some jerk with no feelings.”

Leah raises an eyebrow. “Helped you? Abby, the guy’s trouble. He’s toxic. He’s—”

“He’s also put his life on the line for me,” I cut in, my voice urgent. “He almost got himself shot, multiple times, over some stupid truffles I needed for the competition. He’s been here through it all, putting aside his own needs—”

Chloe’s eyes flicker, but her voice is unyielding. “That doesn’t even begin to excuse everything he’s done. He divorced you over bullshit, Abby. And he bribed Adam into breaking up with you. Hell if Adam was gay! Karl would have done it either way!”

“Yes, maybe he would have,” I agree. “And yes, maybe it doesn’t excuse everything. But it adds layers, Chloe. Layers to a person you’ve filed away as a simple problem. We all have our baggage, our bad decisions. Lord knows I’ve made mine, and you’ve made yours.”

The room goes quiet, the tension so palpable I could cut it with a knife. Then Leah speaks, cautiously, as if testing the water. “So, you’re saying we should just accept Karl because you think he’s changed?”

I shake my head. “No, Leah, I’m saying that it’s my choice to spend time with him, to see if he’s really trying to change or not. What I can’t accept is an ultimatum from my best friends because they disagree with my life. That’s not friendship. That’s control.”

Chloe’s face is unreadable. “And if your choices put you at risk? What then, Abby? Do we just stand by and watch?”

“Would you rather cut me out?” I retort. “Would that make it easier for you? Friendship isn’t just about the easy times, the wine nights and the double dates. It’s about the messy parts, too. It’s about standing by each other, even when we don’t always agree with each other’s choices.”

Chloe looks down, her eyes tracing the reddened rim of her wine glass. “This is different, Abby. This isn’t just us disagreeing with your life choices. This is us being genuinely worried for you and feeling like there’s no other way to make you see logic.”

“If you’re so worried,” I say, “then ditching me when I need you the most isn’t going to help anything.”

Leah sighs, stepping closer. “But you can’t blame us for wanting to distance ourselves,” she says, although I can sense in her voice that she doesn’t even fully believe her own words. “We have our own lives to protect, too.”

“That’s true,” I admit. “I never meant to put your mental health in danger. But don’t make me choose, guys. Don’t make me choose between my best friends and a life I need to figure out for myself. And if you can’t do that, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.”

For a moment, nobody speaks. The room feels frozen, but the ice might just crack.

Finally, almost imperceptibly, Chloe nods.

“Maybe you’re right,” she says quietly. “We’ve all made mistakes, and it’s not fair to pin everything on one decision, one person.”

“So, we’re good?” I ask cautiously, hardly daring to breathe.

Leah looks at Chloe, then back at me, her eyes bright but cautious. “Maybe not just yet,” she murmurs. “But we’ll try.”

And just like that, the tension breaks. I step forward, my eyes meeting theirs in silent understanding, before we all move at once, colliding in a tangle of arms and tears and relief.