Page 83 of The Yoga Teacher

Because what the hell did he expect? That she’d stay untouched forever, wrapped in grief, frozen in some devotional shrine to their broken marriage? That she’d never reach for comfort, or warmth, or joy, or love again?

No, she had every right to happiness.

Let her be happy. Let her forget him.

Let her be free.

Because that’s what this was. Not a gift. Not an apology.

A door.

He stood, slowly, buttoning his jacket with deliberate precision.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. Steady.

“Let me know when the papers are ready.”

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Daniel sat on the couch in Dr. Ellis’s office, his hands laced together so tightly his knuckles ached. He hadn’t spoken since he walked in. Just sat there, staring at the floor like if he looked up, he might actually shatter.

He had done something good. He had made the call, pulled the strings, handed Hannah her dream on a silver fucking platter. And yet—

He felt like the most disgusting man on earth.

Dr. Ellis let the silence stretch. She never rushed him. Never filled the space with empty reassurances. She just waited.

“I keep thinking about it. The sex. Every fucking detail. And not—” He exhaled sharply, swallowing bile. “Not in a way that gets me off. Not even close.” Daniel exhaled sharply. “I feel sick.”

Her gaze was steady. “Physically or emotionally?”

“Both.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Thinking about it. About what I did. What I threw her away for.” His throat tightened. “It makes me want to throw up.”

Dr. Ellis nodded, unsurprised. “Regret has a way of settling in the body.”

Daniel let out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s a fucking understatement.” He shook his head, jaw clenched. His stomach twisted violently. “It’s like I’m watching it from outside my body. Every movement, every sound—like I’m trapped behind glass, screaming at myself to stop.”

Dr. Ellis watched him.

Daniel stared at the carpet. His heart pounded like it wanted to break out of his chest. “It was nothing. That’s what kills me. It was just—” He gritted his teeth. “It was empty. I wasn’t even there. I wasn’t feeling anything.” His fingers dug into his knees. “I used her. And I let her use me. And the whole time I was so fucking smug, so fucking sure that none of it mattered because I had Hannah.”

His vision blurred.

“And now?” Dr. Ellis prompted.

Daniel let out a slow breath, voice breaking. “Now I don’t have her at all.”

Silence.

Dr. Ellis spoke carefully. “Do you think you deserve to have her?”

“No.” The answer was immediate. Violent. “She’s—” His voice cracked, his fingers gripping his knees. “She’s perfect.”

He had never meant anything more.

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Daniel stood outside the community center, a thick envelope in his hands.

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