Page 42 of The Yoga Teacher

Why the fuck wasn’t he doing what Tristan was doing?

Why was he spending his nights staring at his phone, waiting for Hannah to unblock him?

She wasn’t the only woman in the world.

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Daniel’s phone buzzed.

He didn’t look at it right away. His inbox had been a disaster for days—missed deadlines, unanswered threads, meetings he’d skimmed or skipped entirely. He kept telling himself he was just “off.” Just distracted. Just tired.

He’d fix it. Next week. Tomorrow. Soon.

He was staring at his screen, pretending to organize his inbox, when the notification popped up.

Subject: Representation and Intent to File – Hannah Rivers

His first thought was that it was a mistake.

A scam, maybe. A misfire. Someone else’s name attached to his.

But his eyes kept moving.

Please be advised that our office now represents Mrs. Hannah Rivers in the matter of marital dissolution. We are reaching out as a professional courtesy before the official filing...

His brain stalled.

The words sat there on the screen, cold and flat and impossible.

No.

She wouldn’t.

Shecouldn’t.

Hannah wouldtalkto him. They’d fight, sure. They’d scream and say things they didn’t mean. But this? Lawyers?

This wasn’t her.

This wasn’tthem.

His chest tightened.

He read the email again, slower this time.

And then again.

Hannah—hisHannah—had hired a lawyer.

The silence in his office felt surreal. People were still working, still laughing somewhere down the hall, still sending emails about printer malfunctions and catering budgets.

But for him, everything had just stopped.

Daniel leaned forward, elbows on the desk, one hand gripping the phone like it might float away. His other dragged across his face, trying to ground himself, trying to slow the dizzying spin in his head.

The knock at his door made him flinch.

He straightened reflexively, flipping the phone over like it was something shameful.

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