Page 152 of The Yoga Teacher

“You two areofficiallydone, right?” Tristan said casually. “I mean, the divorce is happening?”

Daniel didn’t answer. Rage burned so hot in his chest he thought his skin might split. But his face stayed still.

Tristan didn’t know. Didn’t know what Daniel had already seen him there with Hannah. Had witnessed him that morning, disheveled and satisfied.

Didn’t know that Daniel had fucked it all up so badly he couldn’t even blame her for moving on.

“Just figured I’d check before reaching out,” Tristan added. “Wanted to be respectful. No weirdness.”

Daniel’s voice came low. Controlled.

“We’re still married.”

Tristan blinked. “Oh. Shit—I thought—”

“Nothing’s been filed,” Daniel said. “No court dates. No legal proceedings.”

Tristan shifted. “But you’re separated?”

Daniel wanted to lie. He wanted to punch Tristan in the face, tell him to keep his hands off Hannah, he wanted to keep her for himself. “Technically, yes, we’re separated,” he said instead.

Tristan smiled. “Cool. I mean—not cool, but—appreciate the clarity, man. Didn’t want to cross a line.”

Daniel didn’t smile.

He was remembering the slope of her waist. The way her mouth opened just before she came. The way she tasted when she—

He shoved the thought down like a scream.

Because it wasn’t just love.

It was lust, too. Ugly, searing, consuming. He still wanted her. Stillachedfor her. Still woke up hard some nights with her name on his lips and nothing in his hands but air.

And nowTristanwanted her.

Was probably already planning what to say when he called.

Tristan gave him a light tap on the desk. “Anyway—glad you’re back. Let me know if you want to loop in on the Anderson pitch.”

He walked off, joining a cluster of interns by the whiteboard, already laughing, already lighting up the room like it had never gone dark.

Daniel stared at the empty space where Tristan had been.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Because if he did, he might say something unfixable.

He turned back to his monitor. The screen glowed blue. His reflection looked pale. Wrecked. Forgettable.

But somewhere deep in his chest, the fury still burned.

Hewas the only one who should be allowed to touch her.

Hewas the one wholovedher. Who had memorized her. Who had held her when she sobbed over things she couldn’t speak aloud. Who had thought they would have forever.

Until he’d destroyed it.

---