Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 315

Abby

Before I can even open my mouth to respond to Karl’s sudden request, he’s gone. I watch with a furrowed brow as he rushes out of the room, his footsteps receding down the hallway.

It’s barely even seven o’clock in the morning, and he’s already demanding that I wake up and meet him downstairs in… ten minutes?

And yet, at the same time, something about his demeanor is intriguing. He’s not normally like this in the mornings, so maybe he’s got something really exciting planned.

Confused, but intrigued, I sigh and push myself out of bed.

Despite my curiosity, I opt for a simple outfit—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater, since it’s cold outside—before brushing my teeth and running a brush through my hair.

As I finish up getting ready in front of the bathroom mirror, I can’t help but wonder what could have Karl so animated, especially with the election press conference looming tomorrow. I thought he would be busy all day today with preparations, meetings, you name it.

Which only makes me wonder: what could be so important about whatever this ‘surprise’ is that it trumps his press conference preparations?

However, as I get ready, Elsie’s words from yesterday echo in my mind.

“He cares for you, Abby,” she had said. “Don’t let fear dictate your life.”

Her belief in Karl’s genuine care for me bolsters me a little bit. I mean, I know she’s right, but… something about his behavior this morning has me uncharacteristically intrigued. I wonder what he’s got planned.

I find Karl waiting downstairs a few minutes later. He’s standing by the door, already wearing his coat with his car keys in hand.

“So, where are we off to?” I ask, trying to gauge his expression as I grab my coat off of the hook.

Karl offers a mysterious smile. “It’s a surprise. Just trust me, Abby. And don’t worry about breakfast; I’ll take you to the cafe afterwards.”

His response does little to quell my curiosity. “But I thought you’d be swamped all day,” I point out. “You know, with the press conference tomorrow and all.”

“I am, but I made time for you this morning,” he says with a wink. “This is just as important, Abby. You’ll see.”

With a reluctant nod, I follow him outside. The crisp morning air bites at my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Karl’s car as he opens the door for me. His cologne, a subtle blend of wood and spice, lingers as I slide into the passenger seat. It makes my heart flutter.

We drive in silence through winding country roads, the landscape a blur of greens and browns. I steal glances at Karl every so often, his focus unwavering as he navigates the car around the turns. He’s strangely quiet, but there’s an unexpected spark in his eyes. I want to ask him where we’re going, but every time I bring it up, he just says the same thing.

“You’ll see, Abby.”

After what feels like an eternity, we pull up to a nondescript house just outside a neighboring town. It’s a brick house with shuttered windows and a pointed roof. There are no signs out front or anything; it just seems like someone’s house. There’s even a beat-up station wagon in the driveway.

“Are we visiting someone?” I ask, my curiosity piqued as Karl pulls up along the side of the street..

Karl turns off the engine and looks at me, his expression serious. “This is Dr. Armitage’s house. There was a cancellation. I managed to get a last-minute appointment for you.”

I blink in surprise. “An appointment?”

Karl hesitates before answering. “It’s just a consultation. I thought it might cheer you up.”

His words leave me conflicted. While I appreciate the gesture, I sort of wish he had told me sooner.

But Karl, always the intuitive one, speaks up before I can say anything. “Look, I know I should have told you, and I was planning to,” he says. “But when I went to tell you, you were fast asleep. And then I fell asleep while I was waiting. By the time I woke up this morning, I figured I might as well just make it a surprise.”

I take a deep breath. “Alright, it’s not a big deal. Let’s go.”

We approach the door, which swings open after a few knocks. A short-statured, portly older man greets us from the doorway. He’s got a warm, albeit somewhat eccentric and toothy smile.

“Welcome, welcome!” Dr. Armitage exclaims, holding the door open a little wider. “You must be Karl and Abby. Please, come in.”

Karl and I exchange glances as we step inside, but allow Dr. Armitage to usher us into a room that seems to serve as his office. Shelves line the walls, cluttered with bottles and books, while a large, antique desk takes center stage.

His home, much like him, seems to be an oddity—filled with peculiar artifacts and an aroma of herbs and something unidentifiable. There’s a jar containing a wet specimen sitting right on the corner of his desk, in plain view. I can’t tell what’s inside; there isn’t even a label.

“Now then,” he says as he plops down onto the chair behind his desk as Karl and I sit opposite him. “You’ve come today on a matter of infertility, correct?”

I glance over at Karl, but he says nothing. It’s clear that he’s giving me the mic now.

“Uh, yes,” I say, swallowing. “We are.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Armitage flips through a somewhat-tattered notebook in front of him and mutters to himself for a moment before peering up at me through his little round wire-rimmed glasses. “Next visit, we can do a more comprehensive exam. But I want to get to know you first, Abby. Can you explain the nature of your infertility?”

I swallow, glancing over at Karl again, who shoots me an encouraging look, before I answer. “The doctor told me that one of my ovaries is not functional,” I say. “And that it’s very unlikely that…” I pause then, wondering how much to say. Both Karl and Dr. Armitage look at me expectantly.

“Actually,” I continue a moment later, “can you tell me about the treatment first? Karl said it’s experimental.”

Dr. Armitage beams, his eyes twinkling behind his round spectacles. “Ah, of course,” he says. “It is experimental. It’s quite revolutionary, actually.” He gets up from his seat and waddles across the room. Karl and I watch as he opens a drawer in a repurposed vanity and pulls out a small vial, the sound of glass clinking as he shuts the drawer. He walks back over to me, holding it up.

“It’s a potion I’ve concocted,” he says. “Patent pending, of course. In combination with various rituals, I’ve seen a lot of success in my patients.”

I frown, reaching out for the vial. “May I?”

Dr. Armitage nods and hands it to me without hesitation. “Of course.”

I take the small vial, feeling its weight and coolness in my hand. The potion, a murky liquid that’s almost the brownish shade of old blood, doesn’t inspire confidence even upon closer inspection. And his talk of rituals sounds more like folklore than medicine.

“What’s in this… potion?” I ask, meeting his gaze again.

Dr. Armitage pauses for a moment, clearly taken aback. “It’s, uh… a classified recipe,” he says. “But I assure you, it’s all safe.”

“Abby,” Karl chimes in, “Dr. Armitage specializes in homeopathic medicines. He’s highly educated. He wouldn’t put anything dangerous in—”

“No.” I suddenly set the vial down on the desk with a clatter, my hands trembling. “I’m not interested.”

“Abby—”

“Dr. Armitage,” I say, rising from my chair, “I appreciate the effort, but I don’t think this is quite what I had in mind.”

The strange ‘doctor’ shoots me a quizzical expression. “Oh. Are you sure?” he asks.

“Positive.” I turn to Karl, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ll be waiting in the car. Thanks, but no thanks.”

And with that, I turn to leave with hot tears pricking at the backs of my eyes, ready to spill.