Page 82 of Love Notes & Lifelines
It’s not the same. It’s not the same. It’s not the same.This time it’s Elijah’s voice I hear in my head, accompanied by a wave of sadness. I miss him.
“No, Stella,” Emmy says on an exhale. Her disappointment in my yoga abilities is funny.
It turns out I’m not as flexible as I thought. Emmy masters every pose, and Leo guides me through each one as though he’s working with a toddler.
“May I adjust you?” he asks after I miss every verbal direction he’s given me.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug. Then he’s behind me, spreading my arms wide and tilting my face toward the sun.
“You hold a lot of regret and loss in your heart.”
My lashes hit my brows. How does he know that?
“Open your chest with a deep breath. Count to ten as you inhale, then hold it.”
Adjusting my legs so I don’t fall on my face, I do as he asks.
“Finding inner peace sometimes means letting go of what hurts us.”
Inexplicably, my eyes sting.
“Good job, Emmy. You’re doing great.”
I peer over my shoulder and sure enough, Emmy’s in some advanced version of the pose I’m currently failing at.
Leo walks around us—his voice is calm and as soothing as the ocean waves at night. His words hit their mark every time and somehow, he’s turning yoga into an emotional release I’m not prepared for.
“Good,” he praises. “Now lie on your mats, face down. Place your forehead on the backs of your hands.”
Emmy does some kind of twist and suddenly she’s face down.
I’m much less graceful, but when we’re settled, Leo guides us through a meditation that does make my heart feel a touch less battered.
When he tells us to rise, he hands Emmy some wipes and she gets to work cleaning the mats. I stare, unsure if I should interrupt or not.
“She likes to do it,” he whispers. “She used to do it with her mom.”
At that, my throat closes up.
“You know, I was close with Beck growing up. We were inseparable, actually. Him, me, and Davis.”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I remain quiet and stare at a point far across the ocean.
“He thinks he doesn’t need anyone. It’s how he’s programmed himself in adulthood, but that’s not who he is. Under all that confidence and cold exterior, he has a soft heart. He always did.”
With a deep inhale that burns in my lungs, I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”
His face falls momentarily, but then he shrugs it away. “I’ve lost a lot of people I love.” He fidgets with a hemp bracelet around his wrist. “It would be nice to have him back. It would be nice to see him happy and sharing the love that’s buried under all that anger.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” I ask again.
His shoulders shake with silent laughter. “Tabby said she has afeeling.” When I arch a brow in his direction, he flashes an understanding grin because what he’s saying is absurd. “But the thing is, she’s rarely wrong about people and she said Beck’s different with you. Different than when we were kids, and different from the indifferent façade he gives the rest of us now.”
“I think she’s reading too much into an interaction that lasted less than ten minutes,” I say dryly.
“Maybe.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “But if there’s a chance that he might open up, that he’ll let you in and remember that not everyone is an enemy, I’m willing to bet whatever I have to make it happen.”
I don’t like the sound of that. “What does that mean…exactly?”
