Page 163 of The Yoga Teacher

He crossed the threshold slowly, like the air in the house was heavier than he remembered. It was. She wasn’t going to let this feel like nostalgia. It wasn’t about what they’d had.

It was about what he destroyed.

She didn’t ask if he wanted tea. She didn’t offer a seat.

She walked ahead into the living room, sat on the edge of the new couch—her couch—and waited until he figured out where to sit. He did, standing awkwardly at first, then folded into the chair across from her. His hands hung between his knees, clenched just enough to make the veins stand out.

She didn’t smile.

“You’re here because I want you here,” she said, meeting his eyes. “That’s the only reason. This isn’t your home.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Her throat felt tight, but she didn’t give the feeling power. She smoothed her palms across her jeans and leaned forward slightly.

“I need to ask you something. And I don’t want your best version of the answer. I don’t want a script from therapy or some humble little performance to make me think you’ve changed.”

He flinched at that—good. He should.

“I want to know,” she said, voice quieter now, but no softer, “if the version of you I’ve seen these past weeks—the one who shows up to weed beds and haul compost and doesn’t push—isreal.Or if it’s just... self-punishment wrapped in good behavior.”

She let that sit. Let him feel the weight of it.

“I rebuilt my life,” she said. “From the rubble you left me in. I used the rage. I turned it into muscle. Into confidence. Into a job I earned with a spine you almost broke. I don’t need you.”

Her voice cracked there—but it didn’t break.

“I don’tneedyou,” she repeated. “So if Ichooseyou again, you better fucking deserve it.”

Daniel’s lips parted like he might respond, but she lifted a hand—just slightly—and he closed his mouth.

“I’m not interested in your regret. Or how much it hurts to remember. You don’t get credit for pain. You don’t get extra points for being sorry.”

She took a breath. Slow. Grounding.

“The only reason I asked you here is because I want to know what you’ve actually learned. Not forme.Foryou.Because if you’ve really changed, you should be able to name what you broke—and not look away.”

Now her hands were trembling a little. She folded them in her lap to hide it.

Daniel’s voice, when it came, was rough around the edges.

“I thought we were permanent.”

Her chest tightened. She didn’t look away.

“I thought no matter what I did, I’d still have you. Still come home to you.”

“I thought I’d always have you, too,” she said, quiet and steady.

“I thought I could compartmentalize the cheating. That it wouldn’t touch you. That if I kept it separate, I could still be yours.”

“And now?” she asked.

He looked straight at her.

“Now I know that was a lie. I wasn’t strong enough to deserve the life we had. I didn’t know how to face myself. I was trying to run away from my insecurities and instead I ran away from you.”

She held his gaze. She didn’t speak.

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