Page 107 of The Yoga Teacher

Daniel could almost track the progress of the rumor in real time as it made it’s way through the party.

The glances. The low murmurs. A trio by the bar not even pretending to keep their voices down. One of them said “affair” like they were tasting it.

So that was it. Now everyone knew.

Everyone knew that he had betrayed his wife.

He turned away from the bar—and found Tristan standing there, just a few feet away. “Dude, people are saying you had an affair with aninfluencer?”

Sienna was hardly an influencer, and what they did wasn’t anything as classy as an “affair”. But that wasn’t the most important part of the charge against him.

“I did it,” he said quietly, before the younger man could speak. “I cheated on my wife.”

The words tasted like ash. Saying them out loud here—at work, in this setting, to someone who once looked up to him—was a humiliation deeper than any rumor. He felt exposed under the fluorescents.

Tristan didn’t respond right away. His face was set—stone still, not angry, not mocking, just... confused.

Tristan looked at him like he’d never seen him before. Then, with a shake of his head and a dry, bitter laugh, “Man. You made marriage look like it was still worth believing in.”

He turned and walked off, leaving Daniel in the silence he’d earned.

And this time, Daniel didn’t walk away because of the shame.

He stood in it.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Hannah

THE ENVELOPE WAS unremarkable. No thick, official seal. No red ink screaming URGENT. Just a plain, cream-colored rectangle wedged between a coupon booklet and a flyer for gutter cleaning.

Hannah stood in Mia’s kitchen, fingers sliding under the edge, expecting a routine update from the mortgage company.

It wasn’t an update.

It was a confirmation.

Final Payment Received

Current Mortgage Balance: $0.00

Ownership: Sole — Hannah E. Rivers

She read it once. Then again.

Then a third time.

Effective immediately… all rights and obligations… transferred in full… Hannah E. Rivers.

The house was hers.

She blinked. The light above the sink buzzed faintly, the fridge clicking on behind her. Everything felt too loud. Or maybe too quiet.

What was this? A parting gift? A manipulation? A lawyer’s flourish?

She grabbed her phone. Dialed the number on the letter. A long wait. Polite hold music.

“Yes, Ms. Rivers, I see the transfer here. It was processed last week. Full payment made.”

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