Page 79 of The Yoga Teacher

He picked up the phone.

Scrolled until he found the name: Marcus Calloway.

Daniel pressed the call button.

It rang.

“Daniel,” came the voice. “Wow. Been a long time.”

Daniel didn’t bother with small talk. “I heard you’re filling the director role.”

A pause. “We are.”

“She’s the only choice.”

Another pause.

“You’re talking about Hannah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she’s a contender. But—”

“She’s the only choice,” Daniel repeated, flat. “You want the program to succeed? You pick her. Not because she’s charming, or because she’s a name, but because she does the damn work. Quietly. Relentlessly. Because she actually gives a shit, even when no one’s watching.”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to his hand.

“I sent you something,” he said after a beat. “Just look at it. It’s everything you need to know.”

There was a pause. “You always were a good pitch man.”

“This isn’t a pitch,” Daniel said. “It’s hers.”

Marcus was quiet. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Daniel’s jaw clenched. His chest felt like it was splitting.

“She’ll always have me,” he said.

Marcus exhaled. “I’ll look at what you sent.”

“Thanks.”

Daniel ended the call.

And sat there.

For a long time.

The silence in the office was thick. Heavy. Like penance.

He didn’t want peace. He didn’t want closure. He didn’t want forgiveness.

He wanted this.

To give something that hurt.

To love her in a way that burned.

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