Karl The clink of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation surround me, but I feel like I’m underwater, like everything is distant and muffled. I’m here, but I’m also not here at the same time—my mind is a thousand miles away, tangled in thoughts of Abby. As I lazily stir my drink with m
It’s the question I’ve been dreading because the answer isn’t going to be something that they want to hear. But everyone is staring at me, and I can’t bring myself to lie. “Stories,” I say finally. “Real stories about real people. That’s what matters to me.” There’s a moment of silence, and a fl
Abby My hands tremble slightly as I reach the door, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. The apartment still looks like a hurricane just blew through, the ingredients aren’t prepped, I’m still a mess myself, and the judges are an hour and a half early. Great. Just great. I hope that whoever sho
Abby I shuffle from one foot to the other, still shocked by Karl’s sudden appearance. But the flowers in my hand are grounding, like a lifeline. “Are you sure about this?” I find myself asking. “Your Alpha duties… You’ve already given up so much to help me. I don’t want to jeopardize your status
“Okay, I’ll... get ready then. You’ll be okay out here?” Karl waves a hand dismissively. “Go ahead. You got a mirror somewhere so I can get to work on…” He gestures to himself, to his tousled hair, his white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “...This?” I nod and point to the
Abby I swallow hard, my palm slick with nervous sweat as I reach for the door handle. “Ready?” Karl asks, his voice low. His eyes meet mine, and I can feel a sense of calm wash over me, although it’s not quite enough to allay the anxiety that’s blooming in my chest. “Ready.” The door swings
Abby The judges are sitting in front of me, spoons poised, and I can’t help but hold my breath. Every moment that they taste the soup without a word feels like an eternity. My palms are sweating, and it’s all I can do to not show them that I feel like I’m about to pass out. Vanessa is the first
His words give me pause. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m lost in his brown gaze. But then, I realize that he’s right; Logan just wants to throw me off my game. This isn’t the cook-off. There are no fellow contestants switching my spices, no real reason to let one judge’s comments make me doubt
Abby Intrigued, I let Karl take my hand and lead me discreetly away from the reception, weaving through the tables and out a back door into the gardens. A mischievous grin plays on his lips as we giggle like teenagers, ducking behind hedges and scurrying across the lush green lawns. “Where are w
As the music shifts to a slow ballad, I feel a familiar pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind. “There’s my beautiful wife,” Karl’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He spins me around to face him, our bodies swaying in time to the soft music. I gaze up at him
Abby The reception hall is cast in a warm, romantic glow, with twinkling lights and the warm flickering of candles on every table. Soft music plays as Karl and I make our entrance, hand-in-hand to raucous applause and cheers from our guests. I can’t stop smiling as we wave to our loved ones gather
Abby The afternoon sun streaming in through the tall windows of the chapel casts the stones in a warm golden light, giving everything a sort of ethereal energy. I stand in the hallway, my arm linked with Anton’s, as the wedding coordinator prepares everyone to walk down the aisle. “Are you ready
Abby As I sit in front of the vanity mirror with the hair and makeup artist circling around me, I meet my friends’ gazes in the reflection; Chloe, Leah, Daisy, and even Elsie are here as my bridesmaids, each of them looking more beautiful than the last. “The seamstress really did do a great job
Abby With a gasp of excitement, I pull the wedding gown out of its box and hold it up in the light. Everything is perfect; the way the beadwork catches the light, the silky texture, the shape. I can’t wait to try it on now that it’s been altered to fit my body. Quickly, I slip out of my clothe
Abby “Abby, why don’t you sit down?” Karl looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the sofa, a look of concern on his face. He pats the spot next to him, but I shake my head. “I can’t,” I say, continuing to pace back and forth in our living room. “I won’t sit down until I hear back about that
Abby As I chop, stir, melt, and saute, the others stand around me, watching intently. The pasta simmers on the stove, the air smelling like warm butter and spices. It’s enough to make anyone’s mouth water. But my focus isn’t on the rumbling in my belly, nor is it even on the lingering pain in my
As we continue searching, I keep thinking back on our last harrowing hunt for black truffles; those poachers nearly shot us. Even now, I can still remember the sound of the bullets whizzing past my head, and the thuds they made when they careened into trees. “We got really lucky,” I say. “If we ha