Page 77 of The Yoga Teacher

It rested against his skin like weight and warning.

He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserveher.

But he would carry her love like a promise anyway.

Every small thing he could still do for her—that was his joy. His tether. His repentance.

She had loved him through everything. Through every half-effort. Every delay. Every broken thing he never fixed.

And he had taken that love—steady, patient, unconditional—and crushed it under the weight of his own selfishness.

She didn’t need him. That part had become painfully, unavoidably clear.

But he would spend the rest of his life being the man she once believed he was.

From now on, he would live like he meant those vows.

For better or worse. In sickness and health. Forsaking all others.

They would be legally divorced soon. He knew that.

But to him, she wouldalwaysbe his wife.

He would never touch another woman again.

His body had once been hers.

And now, it would belong to no one.

------------------

Daniel was barely listening as Steve rambled about something work-related. His fingers drummed against the condensation-slicked glass on the bar in front of him, the untouched soda inside going warm.

His head was elsewhere.

Onher.

As usual.

“You’re not even listening,” Steve said, nudging his arm.

Daniel blinked. “What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I said Hannah’s up for that new position.”

The noise of the bar—clinking glasses, low chatter, the muted thump of music—faded into the background.

“What position?” His voice came out too sharp.

Steve shrugged. “Some director-level thing. Expansion for that program she’s been working on. Apparently, it’s a big deal. Would mean moving out of state.”

Daniel’s stomach dropped.

“She’d have to move?”

Steve shot him a look. “That’s what I just said.”

Daniel’s throat tightened.

---