Page 153 of The Yoga Teacher

Until he’d let it rot in his hands.

And now—would he have to watch someone else discover her?

He’d have to live with that.

And if she ever reached for him again, he’d still take it.

Even if it broke him all over again.

He didn’t want scraps. He wantedevery inchof her. But he’d take whatever she offered.

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Daniel’s phone buzzed just as he stepped out of the laundromat, basket balanced on one hip, the scent of detergent still clinging to his sleeves. He shifted the weight, glanced at the screen.

Hannah.

The notification lit up his screen like a flare, and Daniel’s heart lurched—violent and immediate. He hadn’t even opened the message yet.

Her name alone was a hit of adrenaline, a punch of longing so sharp it bordered on hunger. Greedy, that’s what he was. Starving for scraps. He’d take anything she gave him—a glance, a word, a goddamn syllable.

He unlocked his phone with a thumb that suddenly didn’t feel steady.

I want to have a joint therapy session.

Daniel stared at it so long the screen dimmed in his hand.

A gust of wind picked up. A receipt fluttered off the top of his laundry pile. He didn’t chase it.

He read the message again.

And again.

His heart pounded against his ribs like it didn’t trust what it was seeing. Like the words might rearrange themselves if he blinked too fast.

Therapy.

Together.

She was willing to sit in a room with him.

Willing to look at him. To speak to him in front of someone who would see the cracks.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. He wanted to run straight to her door and fall to his knees and sayYes, yes, anything, I’ll go wherever you want me.

But instead, he stood there, dumb and breathless on a cracked sidewalk with a basket of damp socks, trying to remember how to breathe.

This wasn’t a reconciliation.

It wasn’t hope.

It was something harder. Sharper.

This was Hannah choosing structure. Boundaries. Truth.

She had offered him a match. He could light it or burn everything down.

A flicker of memory surfaced—his hands on Sienna’s hips, the feel of her body, of moving inside her, the sound of Hannah’s voice.

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