Page 129 of The Yoga Teacher

His wife, who had let another man press his lips to her skin.

His wife…who wasn’t his anymore.

She wasn’t waiting for him. She wasn’t home, curled up in bed, waiting for him to get his shit together and fix this.

She was moving on.

A sharp, gasping sound tore from his throat before he could stop it.

His vision blurred. Something broke loose inside him, fast and violent, shattering through the wall of fury and ego and fucking delusion he’d been holding onto.

She’s gone.

His chest caved in, his breath coming too quick, too ragged, his ribs tight like a vice. His hands were trembling, his fingers curling around the steering wheel, gripping nothing.

She was supposed to be hisforever.

They were supposed to be unbreakable.

A sound ripped from his throat, something raw and guttural, something that wasn’t even a word.

His forehead slammed against the steering wheel. His body folded in on itself.

His stomach twisted.

His knuckles went white against the wheel.

I love her.I love her, I love her, I love her—the words pounded through his skull, useless now. Too late.Too fucking late.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Hannah was supposed to be hurting like he was.

But she wasn’t.

She was fine.

She was moving forward.

And Daniel wasn’t even a thought in her head.

She was supposed to be mine.Not anyone else’s.Mine.

His vision blurred.

His breath stuttered.

He squeezed the wheel tighter, gripping it so hard his arms locked up, so hard his knuckles ached, so hard he thought he might break something—

And then—

Something did break. Somethinginsidehim.

A sob ripped out of him.

He barely had time to react before the next one came—a violent, full-body tremor that cracked him open from the inside out.

And then another.

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