#Chapter 98: One or the Other


    Abby


    The restaurant is buzzing with activity as we prepare for the lunch rush.


    Karl’s returned to work today, and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as I thought it would. In fact,


    there’s a sense of normalcy that I didn''t expect to find. John, especially, is ted to see Karl back.


    “Karl!” he exims, throwing his hands up in the air. “Thanks gods! Get behind this line right now and


    give me a hand, will you?”


    Karl smirks and tugs his apron on, nodding. “Sure thing,” he says, crossing the kitchen to the line.


    “Missed me, huh?”


    “Don’t make me admit it.”


    For a fleeting moment, I think to myself, maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But before the thought


    even has a chance to settle in, the person I was truly dreading the most arrives.


    Chloe.


    Almost as though she sensed that something is off, Chloe bursts in through the front door. Her eyes


    roam around the restaurant, taking in the staff, the prep work, and then they finallynd on Karl. Her


    expression shifts so quickly, it’s like watching a storm cloud eclipse the sun.


    “Abby, can I talk to you? Now?” The temperature in her voice plunges several degrees. I motion her


    toward my office. The door barely clicks shut behind us before she explodes.


    “What the hell is he doing here?”


    Taking a deep breath, I choose my words carefully. “Look, I know it sounds incredibly dumb of me, but


    he came clean about a lot of things, Chloe. And he seemed genuinely remorseful.”


    “So you just let him back after you just told me that you were done?”


    I sigh, passing a hand over my face. “I know. I know it’s stupid. But he wanted to help, and trust me, I’m


    keeping my distance. I swear.”


    She stares at me, her face a mask of incredulity. “Are you out of your mind?”


    “Listen, we really need the extra help right now, Chloe,” I plead, my voice tinged with desperation. “I


    can’t spend my entire day working the line with John while there are managerial duties I need to attend


    to, and I don’t have the resources to train a new cook right now. I’m keeping my distance from Karl, I


    promise. I know it’s stupid, but what choice do I have?”


    The air between us thickens, electrified by the tension. Chloe’s eyes narrow, and her lips press into a


    thin line.


    “You have a choice, Abby. You always do. And if you''re telling me that your choice is to keep him


    around, then my choice is to not work here any longer. Especially not with a man who’s proven time


    and time again that he can’t change.” Her voice trembles, making her anger and betrayal all the more


    palpable.


    I reach out, hoping to bridge the gap between us, but Chloe steps back. “Please, don’t go,” I say,


    almost whispering. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”


    But Chloe isn’t hearing it. “Call me when youe to your senses,” she says, her voice thick with


    unshed tears.


    Without another word, she turns on her heels and storms out, leaving me standing in a room that


    suddenly feels much toorge and excruciatingly empty.


    …


    The restaurant is in full swing by the time Leah walks in. The sight of her usually brings a wave of relief,


    a touch of sanity in the midst of chaos. But today, it just serves as a reminder of the mess I’ve found


    myself in. I’m sure that Chloe sent her, without a doubt. She catches my eye and motions to a table.


    “Can we talk?” she asks.”


    I nod and make my way over, signaling to Ethan to take over the helm while I take a break. We sit


    down, and Leah dives right in.


    “So, Chloe called me and told me everything.”


    I sigh, unable to meet her eyes. Of course she did. “She was furious, Leah. She quit on the spot.”


    “Do you me her? After everything Karl has done?”


    I shake my head, frustrated. “No, of course I don’t me her, Leah. But still, I thought she would be


    more understanding, knowing the situation I’m in. I need all hands on deck for the cook-off, and Karl is


    a good worker.”


    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 nces at her watch and starts to get up. I can see that her eyes have misted over as well, but


    she’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 isted.


    …


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    Thest 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


    tried calling Chloe multiple times, and each call goes straight to voicemail.


    Thest 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 myputer screen, bringing back the article about ck truffles I’d been


    reading earlier. I sigh as my eyes skim the text again, discussing the rarity of ck 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 ce.


    My friends are turning their backs on me, and I can’t say I me 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


    expensive it’s almostughable.


    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 damn 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?”