Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 305

Karl

As I deal the cards, the clink of poker chips echoes in the dimly lit room. Anton, John, and I are gathered around a small card table, engrossed in a game of poker while the others are watching a movie in the adjacent room.

The stakes are low, just a friendly match with chips and no real money involved. The atmosphere is light, filled with casual banter and the occasional burst of laughter while the sound of soft music emanates from the bluetooth speaker in the corner.

I never thought I would say this, but I’m honestly enjoying the time with the two men who I’ve actually been starting to see as my friends. And I hate to admit this part even more, but… I’m actually a bit sad to know that they’ll be leaving in the morning.

It gets a little lonely here, being the Alpha that everyone looks up to. Sometimes it’s nice to just be seen as an equal.

But then, suddenly, Anton, with a mischievous glint in his eye, says something that I didn’t expect. “Why don’t we make this more interesting and bet with real money?”

John and I exchange wary glances, our amusement fading. Gambling. It’s what caused Anton to lose his wife and daughter and become homeless, and I guess we should have known better than to tempt him with a game like poker. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, but we still should have thought about the implications first.

In an unspoken agreement to put an end to this now before we cause our friend to relapse, John and I both set down our cards, and John begins to clean up the poker chips without a word.

“What’s wrong?” Anton asks, confusion clouding his face as he watches John tidy up the poker table. “Why are you cleaning up?”

I let out a deep sigh, feeling a pang of concern for my friend. “Anton,” I start, choosing my words carefully, “maybe playing poker wasn’t such a good idea. And we’re definitely not going to bet with real money. Sorry, man.”

Anton’s face blanches, and a mixture of recognition and embarrassment washes over his features as he sets down his cards. He runs a hand through his hair and mutters a curse in French under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice filled with regret. “Sometimes, I... I still want to gamble. It’s like these inner demons take over.”

“It’s okay, Anton,” I reassure him, reaching over to give his shoulder a firm squeeze. “But remember how things are looking up with your wife. You’re getting to see your daughter again. Do you really want to jeopardize all that for a game of poker?”

Anton’s eyes well up with tears, and he shakes his head vehemently. “No, I don’t,” he says, his voice breaking. “Thank you, Karl, John. Sometimes I need someone to talk some sense into me, that’s all.”

John, clearly feeling responsible for the mess, apologizes. “I’m sorry, guys. Poker was my idea. I should have known better, especially with my own past when it comes to addiction.”

Anton and I turn to John. “Your alcoholism, you mean?” I ask.

John nods and sighs, his eyes downcast. “Yep. Even now, when we go to the bar, it’s... it’s hard. The temptation is always there, just under the surface.”

“How long has it been since you quit drinking?” Anton asks.

“Six years,” John replies, a hint of pride in his voice. “It gets easier, but it never fully goes away, you know?”

There’s a bit of a silence. We both knew that John used to be an alcoholic, but he never talks about it. I guess it’s been long enough for him that he’s gotten pretty damn good at not showing his struggles whenever we have a party or go out.

Last night, he only had soda instead of alcohol. And at any other parties where alcohol is handed out for a toast, he might have a sip and then dump the glass out. His nonchalance about it makes it easy to forget that he really used to struggle, and still does, to an extent.

But then the conversation shifts, and both Anton and John look at me in unison. “What about you, Karl? Anything you struggle with?” Anton asks, raising an eyebrow.

I pause, considering their question. Then, memories of my past behavior with Abby surface. “When Abby and I were married, I was... controlling,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I made her dress more modestly, wanted her hair a certain way, and was very jealous. It’s what led to our divorce. I regret it every day and I’m trying to be better, but I still have my moments.”

John and Anton exchange surprised glances. “Really?” John asks. “I never noticed.”

I nod, recalling a more recent incident. “Like when I told Daisy to button up her shirt when I first started helping at the restaurant,” I say. “I still feel bad about that, even though she’s forgiven me by now.”

The room falls silent, each of us lost in our own reflections. I didn’t expect this, but it feels kind of good to let it all out. I’ve never been the type to voice my feelings about sensitive issues, but there’s something about John and Anton that makes me relax.

“Well, I, for one, am glad we have each other,” Anton says, breaking the silence. “It’s easier to face these demons with friends who understand, isn’t it?”

I nod in agreement, feeling a sense of camaraderie I hadn’t expected. “Me too,” I say. “You guys mean a lot to me, as cringy as that sounds.”

John chuckles. “Not cringy in the slightest,” he says. “I never thought I’d say this, Karl, but I consider you a friend. Even though I thought you were a snotty little punk when I first met you.”

His words make both me and Anton laugh, and I push my chair back. “Yeah, and I thought you were a boor,” I chime in, eliciting more laughter from them.

After a moment, though, I stand up. “I’ll be right back. I need to get something from the kitchen.”

John and Anton continue their conversation, switching instead to a casual game of Go Fish to fill the time. As I walk toward the kitchen, lost in thought about our conversation, I pause in the hallway. Voices fill the space, and they sound tense.

I furrow my brow as I realize who I’m overhearing: it’s Abby and Chloe who are talking. My heart skips a beat as I strain to listen, even though I know I shouldn’t.

And in that moment, I hear something that I never should have heard.

“I’ve decided that we won’t even be hooking up anymore. It was only a short-lived, idiotic thing, so… You don’t need to worry about it, Chloe. It’s over.”

Abby’s words hit me like a punch to the gut. Chloe says something else, but I can’t hear it; my blood is rushing through my ears, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I’m certain they’ll be able to hear it from the kitchen.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I quickly walk away, feeling a mix of hurt and confusion blooming rather quickly in my chest. To hear her say it so casually, so easily, as though those intimate moments between us meant nothing…

I hate to admit it, but it breaks my heart.