Page 154 of The Yoga Teacher

He hated that memory. Hated how small it made him feel. How filthy. How easy it had been to ruin something sacred.

But he would carry it.

Like all the others.

Because he wasn’t doing this for comfort.

He was doing this for her.

Back at the motel, he set the laundry basket down and opened his laptop with shaking hands.

He typed out an email.

Hi Dr. Ellis — I’d like to set up a joint session with Hannah. She’s open to it. She asked for it. I want to make sure I don’t waste this chance. Please tell me when you can see us. I’ll take anything. Morning, night, weekend. Doesn’t matter. I’ll be there. I just need this to go right.

He hovered his finger over “send.”

Then pressed it.

Then slumped forward, hands in his hair, forehead against the edge of the desk.

His voice was a whisper in the dark of the room.

“Please let this go right.”

Because this wasn’t just therapy.

It was the start of whatever came next.

And whatever it was—

He would be ready to earn it.

One breath. One session. One broken piece at a time.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Hannah

THE COUCH WAS too soft. Too upholstered. Like something designed to lull you into saying more than you meant.

Hannah didn’t plan to.

She sat straight-backed, arms resting loosely on her thighs, gaze fixed not on Daniel—but on Dr. Ellis.

The therapist greeted them gently. No preamble. Just presence.

“We’ll go at your pace today,” she said.

Hannah nodded. “Good. Because I’m not here to be convinced of anything.”

Daniel flinched beside her. Subtle. But she saw it.

“I asked for this,” she continued, “because I need to hear things from his mouth. In front of someone who knows how to call out bullshit.”

Her voice was calm. Even.

“This isn’t about reconciliation. It’s about clarity.”

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