Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 43

Abby

The antiseptic smell of the hospital surrounds me, a cold, clinical scent that seems to hang in the air. I glance down at my arm, now wrapped in white gauze, the skin beneath it red and angry. The pain pulses with every heartbeat, but it’s a dull, manageable ache for now.

“Abby, you should be heading home to rest,” the doctor’s firm voice breaks through my thoughts. He’s an older man, silver hair and a gentle, fatherly demeanor. “That burn needs time to heal, and you need time to recover.”

“I understand, doctor,” I reply, doing my best to sound appreciative. “Thank you.”

Karl waits just outside the small cubicle, flipping through a magazine. The fluorescent lights highlight the worry lines on his forehead. He looks up as I emerge, magazine forgotten.

“All set?”

I nod, reaching for my jacket with my uninjured arm. Karl moves quickly to help, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch is unintentional, but it sends a rush of warmth through me.

“Thanks,” I murmur, avoiding his gaze.

He just nods, his expression serious. “I’ll drive you home.”

But as I step into the corridor, the weight of unfinished business pulls at me. “Not home. Back to the restaurant.”

He stops in his tracks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Are you serious, Abby? After what you’ve just been through?”

“The night isn’t over,” I reply firmly, pain making my voice sharper than intended. “The restaurant needs me.”

Karl shakes his head, clearly struggling to comprehend my determination. “Let’s sit for a moment,” he suggests, guiding me towards a set of chairs in the waiting area. It’s relatively quiet here, a few people scattered about, absorbed in their own world of worry and waiting.

He waits for me to get settled before taking the seat next to me. “Abby, talk to me. Why do you feel the need to go back there tonight? It’s just one night.”

I turn to face him, biting my lip. “You weren’t there when I opened up the restaurant.”

Karl looks away, his face turning a slight shade of red. “No. I wasn’t.”

“That restaurant is my heart, Karl,” I murmur, my voice soft. “It’s a culmination of every dream I’ve ever had, every challenge I’ve faced. One disaster isn’t going to keep me away. And my employees need me tonight.”

He studies me for a long moment, his brown eyes filled with a mix of admiration and concern. The waiting room’s harsh lighting casts shadows on his face, making him look older, more weary.

“Abby,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not about your determination or passion. No one doubts that. But sometimes, you need to step back and take care of yourself.”

The familiar hum of the hospital, the beeping of machines and hushed conversations, provides a backdrop to our conversation. I feel a pang of nostalgia. It reminds me of the times when life was simpler, when our paths were neatly wound around one another. Now, it feels like a tangle, like cords all mussed together.

“Karl, the restaurant is what keeps me going. When I face challenges, when things get tough, it’s that passion that pulls me through. If I back down now, even for a night, what message am I sending to myself? To my staff?”

Karl sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just that… when I saw that fire, when I saw you get hurt… It scared the hell out of me, Abby.”

Karl’s kind words send a pang through my chest. Without thinking, I reach out, placing a reassuring hand on his. “I know. And I’m grateful for your concern, truly. But the best way you can support me now is to understand.”

He’s silent for a moment, absorbing my words. The muffled sounds of footsteps and distant conversations surround us. Finally, he looks up, a determined glint in his eyes. “Fine, but on one condition.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“I’m going with you. If you’re going back to that restaurant, I’m staying by your side.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Deal.”

As we leave the hospital, the night air greets us, a stark contrast to the sterile environment inside. The city is alive, lights glittering in the distance, the gentle hum of traffic a constant companion.