Page 167 of The Yoga Teacher

The air around them went still.

Conversations dimmed. Movement slowed.

Her mouth opened—but before she could find the words, she felt it.

Daniel.

She could feel him before she saw him—could sense the exact second he clocked the tension, felt the rip in the air.

“What’s going on?” he asked, approaching.

His voice was steady, but his posture was all wrong. Shoulders tight. Jaw locked.

Tristan turned, casual as ever. “Just catching up with your ex-wife.”

Daniel’s breath hitched. His body went stock-still.

Tristan smiled wider. “Don’t worry, man. It was during the separation. Not like I broke any rules.”

A beat.

Then—

A single, stunned laugh from a volunteer nearby.

Carmen let out a soft, horrified “Oh my god.”

Morgan stepped closer, one hand already on Hannah’s elbow like she might need backup.

Daniel didn’t say a word. He just stared. At Tristan. Then at Hannah.

The silence sharpened.

Hannah looked back at Tristan. “You need to leave.”

Tristan blinked. “What?”

“I’m not interested in giving you my number,” she said calmly, her voice cutting through the quiet. “And I’d like you to leave.”

“Whoa,” he laughed, holding up his hands. “Alright. Didn’t mean to step on any landmines.”

She said nothing.

Just watched him until he finally—finally—backed off and walked toward the parking lot, tossing his smoothie into the compost bin like he hadn’t just detonated a grenade.

When the noise resumed—cautious, muted, people murmuring and moving again—Daniel still hadn’t moved.

Hannah didn’t either.

He stepped closer. “Can we talk?”

She hesitated. Then nodded.

They walked around the side of the greenhouse, to the edge of the wildflower bed—out of earshot, but not out of sight.

She crossed her arms. “Are you angry?”

His jaw clenched. “Furious.”

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