Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 50

Abby

“You… Want to help?”

I’m taken aback. It’s not quite like Karl to willingly offer help, especially in the middle of the night like this. In fact, the very thought of it instantly whisks me back to a memory that was buried in the deep recesses of my mind from when we were married.

“Karl, could you pass me the pepper?” I had called out from our spacious kitchen, my hands full as I tried to juggle several trays of hors d’oeuvres.

New Year’s Eve was tonight, and I had wanted to throw an unforgettable party for our friends. I had spent days now focusing on my preparations. Everything had to be perfect.

The house was buzzing with energy. But instead of the joyful kind, it felt tense.

Karl’s servants moved around the house like shadows, silently and efficiently, executing his orders. While I loved that our home came with a staff that made everything seem effortless, I wanted to be involved in the preparations.

I wanted it to feel personal.

“Abby, let them handle it,” Karl had said, his voice strained.

His face was buried in his phone, undoubtedly dealing with some Alpha matters. The life of the leader of our pack was never easy, and often the weight of it all rested heavily on his shoulders.

But this party was important to me. A fresh start, a new year, a way to reconnect with Karl after what felt like months of him being distant.

“I want to do it,” I had insisted, rolling up my sleeves. “This is something I enjoy.”

Karl had only shot me a brief glance, his chocolatey eyes filled with the kind of exasperation you’d expect from someone juggling the weight of the world.

“You always make things more difficult than they need to be,” he had muttered.

I’d tried to brush off his comment, focusing on the golden brown mini quiches in the oven.

Everything was going well, until, in my distraction, the hors d’oeuvres were left for a tad too long.

The once appetizing aroma was quickly replaced by the acrid smell of burnt food. Panic settled in as I quickly opened the oven, smoke billowing out, the treats blackened and ruined.

“Damn it!” I exclaimed, my eyes filling with frustrated tears.

Karl, hearing my outcry, finally pulled away from his phone. “What happened?” He surveyed the mess, his impatience palpable.

“I... I got distracted,” I stammered, feeling small. “I need to start over. Can you help me?”

His expression twisted, the weariness and irritation evident. “Abby, I have Alpha matters to attend to. Matters that impact the community. And you want me to roll dough?”

“It was just a simple request,” I murmured, hurt evident in my voice.

But Karl was already walking away. “This whole party, your insistence on doing everything yourself, it’s all just... silly.”

Silly.

The word felt like a slap in the face. My vision blurred with tears. I had wanted this party, not just for our friends or for the turn of the year, but for us, as a couple, to find our way back to each other. To find moments in the mundanity of life that would reconnect us.

In a final act of taking control, Karl gestured for one of his servants.