Page 178 of The Yoga Teacher

She looked up at him. “Thank you for today.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said. “I’m just glad I get to watch you be brilliant.”

That made her pause.

“I know it’s not flashy,” she said quietly. “There’s no skyscraper office. No corner desk.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers dusty and warm. “This is the most important work I’ve ever seen.”

She leaned against him for a moment—just long enough to let the softness bloom before duty pulled her back toward the logistics team and the next parent info session.

But before she went, she kissed his cheek. Her foolish husband. The love of her life.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Epilogue

DANIEL HAD NEVER loved a party more.

Not because it was extravagant. It wasn’t. Just backyard lights, mismatched chairs, a chocolate cake. Mia had dragged a portable heater outside. James was flipping something that sizzled on the grill. Laughter floated through the air.

And Hannah—

Hannah was thirty-one today.

Thirty-one.

He couldn’t stop staring at her. Obvious, heart-eyed, reverent. Every so often she would glance at him and smile. It was like watching sunlight spill across the floor and realizing, somehow, it’s shining just for him.

His father had spent his entire life treating age like a death sentence. Told him men peaked at 30. That relevance was a currency and desire was a weapon. That when women got older, they "wanted more." When men got older, they had to "take what they could get."

Daniel had swallowed that poison for too long.

Now he was watching Hannah laugh with frosting on her knuckle, shaking her head at Mia’s terrible attempt at a toast. Now he was thirty andgratefulto be getting older.

Because he got to get olderwith her.

That was the miracle.

That was the prize.

He didn’t fear the passing years anymore. He couldn’t wait until she had streaks of silver in her hair and deeper laugh lines near her eyes. He wanted slow mornings in bed and knees that creaked.

She wasbetter every year.

And somehow—God, somehow—because of her, because of her grace and her strength and her terrifying clarity,hewas getting better too.

Someone handed him a paper plate. Cake. He barely noticed.

Because she was walking toward him now, and he couldn’t look away.

She stopped in front of him and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring.”

He kissed her, because he could, because he was allowed. “I like what I see.”

She tilted her head. “What’s that?”

He looked at her. Really looked. “My world. My future.”

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