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- Two-dimensional
- Urban Life
- Yuri
Chapter 0158
Leah takes a sip of her water, looking thoughtful. “Abby, you might have to make a choice here—
between your best friends who have stood by you, or the man who’s ruined everything for you over and
over again.”
“I really think he can change, Leah,” I say, my voice tinged with a desperate hope. “People make
mistakes, right?”
She puts down her fork, her eyes locking onto mine. “You thought he would change before. Look where
that got you. How many more chances are you going to give him? And at what cost?”
My chest tightens, as if it’s being gripped by an invisible hand. I know where this is going. “No,” I
murmur, shaking my head as tears threaten to spill out. “Don’t leave me too, Leah.”
Leah glances at her watch and starts to get up. I can see that her eyes have misted over as well, but
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtshe’s trying to hold herself together. “I’ve got to go. But Abby, you need to decide. It’s either us or him.
You can’t have it both ways.”
And just like that, she’s gone, leaving me alone in a restaurant full of people. The irony isn’t lost on me.
I’m surrounded by a team that relies on my guidance, patrons who love my food, and yet in this
moment, I’ve never felt more isolated.
…
The last customer leaves, and I lock the front door behind them, flipping the sign to ‘Closed’.
I retreat to the sanctuary that is my office, a small room crammed with cookbooks, invoices, and a
computer that has seen better days. My phone’s screen glows accusingly at me from my desk. I’ve
tried calling Chloe multiple times, and each call goes straight to voicemail.
The last message she sent me is pretty clear: “You can leave all of the voicemails you want, but there’s
no way to justify this. I’m not speaking to you until he’s gone for good. Consider this your first real
wakeup call, Abby.”
I curse under my breath, my frustration peaking as I throw the phone onto the desk.
The impact wakes up my computer screen, bringing back the article about black truffles I’d been
reading earlier. I sigh as my eyes skim the text again, discussing the rarity of black truffles and how the
harvesting season is just about over.
As if I needed another obstacle.
It feels like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.
My friends are turning their backs on me, and I can’t say I blame them. Karl, the constant thorn in my
side, is back in my life despite my gut screaming it’s a bad idea. Meanwhile, my wolf refuses to show
herself unless I’m close with him.
And to top it all off, I have this recipe I need to master, one that calls for an ingredient so rare and
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expensive it’s almost laughable.
I curse again, louder this time, and rake my hands through my hair, clutching at the strands as if they
hold some magical solution.
Why did I think that agreeing to participate in this cook-off was a good idea? And why did I think that
bringing Karl back into this pressure cooker of a situation was the way to go? I’m questioning every
decision I’ve ever made, and the walls of this tiny office feel like they’re closing in on me.
I take deep breaths, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions storming inside me. But it’s useless;
what’s done is done. I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off, how I’m going to mend these bridges
with Chloe and Leah, how I’m going to practice this da mn truffle recipe, or how I’m going to face Karl
tomorrow.
I’m about to reach for my phone again, considering another futile attempt to call Chloe, when I hear a
soft knock on my open office door. I look up, and there he is—Karl, standing in the doorway, his eyes
flickering to the card on my desk that Mr. Thompson gave me yesterday.
“Is everything okay, Abby?”