Chapter 0125


    Abby


    The scent of mahogany and bergamot fills the air as I step into the room that was once mine—our


    room, really.


    I feel so drawn to the familiarity of it all; the embroidered curtains, the chestnut armoire that I remember


    picking out myself, and the plush rug that used to cushion my bare feet in the mornings. Every little


    detail is still the same, just as I remember it. It’s uncanny, really.


    My fingers trace the intricate patterns on the upholstery of the armchair near the window. It’s a bit


    surreal, being back in this space. I mean, this was my sanctuary once. Our sanctuary. But now, it’s


    filled with… bittersweet memories. Maybe more bitter than sweet.


    I move to the dresser next. That’s when I see it: a photo of us, still sitting exactly where it used to be on


    top of the dresser—Karl and Iughing at something, looking so young, so naive. My eyes widen


    slightly as I gently pick it up. Did he have this picture up all this time?


    As I hold the picture, something stirs in me. Tears begin to prick the backs of my eyes, and I have to set


    the frame back down with a ragged breath,ying the photo t so I don’t need to look at it. Suddenly, it


    feels all too stuffy in here, and I need to get out for a bit.


    I make my way down the winding staircase and out through therge foyer, bypassing the nces of a


    few household staff. When I reach the back patio, I take a deep breath, as if I can finally breathe again.


    Then, pushing open the door, I step into the garden, a sanctuary that I used to escape to when the


    weight of the world felt unbearable.


    The colors and smells envelop me instantly, filling my senses with a mix of nostalgia and tranquility.


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    Rows of roses,vender, and daisies stretch out in front of me like an artist’s vivid canvas. I walk past a


    bunch of lilies, their heads tilted towards the sun, and reach the jasmine vine that was always my


    favorite. Leaning in, I take a deep sniff. Its scent is as intoxicating as I remember.


    For a moment, I feel free from the memories and the spection that my return is no doubt generating.


    But then, feeling as though someone is watching me, I look up instinctively toward the mansion.


    Overhead in a window, that’s where I see Gerald, the butler, staring at me through one of the back


    windows.


    His face is inscrutable, but his eyes, they hold a certain...bewilderment? Or is is something else?


    Then, the moment our gazes meet, he abruptly steps away from the window and disappears from view.


    A flush creeps over my skin, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. It must be odd for him to see me


    wandering around the garden, the ex-Luna now an unexpected visitor in her former home. How many


    people here still believe that I cheated on Karl with the gardener?


    I shake my head, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that settles in my gut. Surely he was just surprised


    to see me. After all, I doubt Karl made a big announcement about my return. I just hope that he at least


    dispelled the theory about my nonexistent infidelity.


    Deciding it’s time to go back inside, I take onest look around the garden, breathing in deeply to


    steady myself. Then, I make my way back towards the house. Just as I reach the patio door, it swings


    open, and there stands Elsie, one of the maids I had always been close to.


    “Abby!” Her eyes light up, and before I know it, I’m wrapped in a warm, affectionate hug.


    “Elsie, it’s so good to see you,” I murmur, returning the hug with just as much enthusiasm.


    “You look amazing,” she exims, pulling back to look at me. “Is life outside treating you well?”


    Iugh. “As well as it can, I guess.”


    A moment of silence hangs in the air before she finally asks the question that I’ve been dreading. “So…


    Are you and Karl…” Her words trail off, but her implication is clear.


    My cheeks flush a deep red. “No, no, nothing like that,” I assure her. “We’re just friends. He invited me


    to visit, that’s all.”


    Her lips curl into a knowing smirk, and I instantly regret my choice of words. But instead of making a


    The subtext is as clear as daylight. In her eyes, Karl and I could never just be “friends”. And as much


    as I’d like to deny it, a part of me wonders if she’s right.