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Abby
The restaurant door clicks shut behind Karl, sealing off the outside world and its nosy journalists. Karl
brushes off his hands as if he’s just dealt with a minor annoyance, but his eyes meet mine, full of
concern.
“You okay, Abby?” he asks, walking over to where I’m standing.
“I’m fine,” I say, even though my pulse is still racing. “Just a little shaken up. I didn’t expect that.”
Karl sighs and leans against the counter. “Welcome to the future, Abby. The more successful you
become,
the more people will come after you, trying to crush your spirit and ruin your reputation.”
His words, although harsh, are true. I should have expected that something like this would happen if I
hired a homeless person. Not everyone is as understanding as the people who work in my restaurant, I
guess.
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“Yeah,” I admit, playing nervously with the edge of my apron. “I just hope it doesn’t affect the
restaurant.
You know how easily people can be swayed.”
He nods, his gaze still intently on me. “But you also know that people are already talking about how
much
better the food is, all thanks to Anton. You’re just getting started, Abby. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”
Something in the way Karl says it, the sincerity in his eyes, washes over me. I want to believe him. No,
I
need to believe him.
“I hope you’re right, Karl. I really do.”
Karl nods and offers me a slight smile. I pause, my eyes lingering on him. “And, um, thank you for
apologizing to Anton earlier, by the way. It means a lot to me.”
His eyes soften, just a little, enough to take the edge off his usually stern gaze. “I’ll do whatever it takes
to
make you happy, Abby. You know that.”
My cheeks flush; I can feel the warmth spread across my face. Karl saying that, in that tone, with those
brown eyes locked onto mine, brings back a rush of memories and emotions.
Suddenly, it’s just the two of us, and we’re married again, standing in our old kitchen. Back before all of
the appointments and the Alpha duties, back before the black hair and the modest clothing and the
arguments.
Back when things were simple. Back when things were easy.
“I appreciate it, Karl,” I manage to say, clearing my throat. “But promise me something?”
Karl smirks. “Anything.”
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I pause for a moment, hoping that he doesn’t see the blush that’s creeping into my cheeks. “Just
promise
that you’ll be kind and willing to make amends with people. Not just for me, but because it’s the right
thing
to do.”
He looks at me like he’s trying to read the layers of meaning behind my words. After a moment, he
nods,
seeming to understand. “I promise.”
For a fleeting second, I wish he could make up with Chloe, but the thought slips away as quickly as it
comes. Chloe made her choice, too. She chose to walk away, to not give Karl a chance.
Relationships are a two-way street, and you can’t force someone to walk down a path they’ve chosen
to
abandon.
I watch as Karl walks away. His fading form holds my attention, the way that his arms bulge against his
sleeves, the way he strides so confidently back into the kitchen as if he’s been doing this for years.
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