Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
Elle
Eight Months Later
“KEEP IT UP, LADIES! YOU’RE doing great! Next, we’ll move into boat pose. It works several large muscle groups, so be sure to take a good, long stretch before moving into it.” Brielle, Coastal Pensacola College’s resident yoga instructor, beamed.
The distinct scent of foam mats, sweat, essential oils, and determination permeated the on-campus yoga studio. I inhaled deeply, intentionally, before transitioning into my resting position of choice—child’s pose. When I lengthened my spine, tension oozed out of every vertebra.
“Oof,” I groaned.
“Will she ever quit torturing us? Or do you think she gets off on watching us suffer?” A chaotic top knot and floral headband secured my best friend’s wild, curly hair.
Entirely ass-up in a downward-facing dog, Ruthie still found a way to protest. Perhaps it was an eye roll or a huff and puff; regardless, my best friend never ceased to make her least favorite positions known.
Ruthie complained often, yet she hadn’t missed a class since we’d started practicing together eight months ago.
Deep down, I knew she loved coming as much as I did.
The boat, reserved for the end of each class, was a pose that required insane strength, balance, and coordination.
Luckily, since returning to Pensacola, I’d dedicated much of my free time to improving those three things.
I couldn’t blame Ruthie for dreading it; the boat was among the most challenging poses for new yogis.
For that reason alone, it was my personal favorite.
“Now, after fully settling into your position, I want you to meditate for a couple of minutes. Close your eyes and visualize something in your life that makes you feel safe. It can be a place—somewhere you’ve been before or maybe somewhere you hope to go one day …
” Brielle sat in the front of the heated studio and gracefully extended her legs, as if it required no effort, wowing me with her incredible body. Her arms followed suit.
Her golden, glistening quads and hamstrings stiffened in unison, competing with the tight abs visible through her second-skin tank top. She was stunning, in her early forties, strong, and naturally gorgeous. I envied her and her full head of virgin red locks.
“Or it can be a person,” she continued. “Sometimes, it’s not the location that matters; a person’s presence alone can often provide you the safety you seek …”
A bead of sweat swam down my forehead, leaving a salty taste on my lips before falling into my cleavage. I imagined our instructor’s sweat probably tasted more like gummy bears and glitter.
Mimicking Brielle, I used every ounce of my inner strength to sit upright on my butt and find and hold my boat. My lower abdomen pulsed after only a few seconds, humbling me.
Yoga, for me, was about leaving my ego at the door, accepting myself in the form I showed up in, and honoring my practice, no matter what it looked like.
Today, I feared it looked like him.
“Squeeze, everyone. Squeeeeze. If you think you’re about to lose your form, squeeze harder,” Brielle echoed.
I stiffened on command, challenging myself as the burn burrowed deeper into my core.
“She’s lost her damn marbles.” Ruthie’s boat rocked on her teal mat to the right of mine, vibrating the floor with her efforts.
I giggled at her imbalance before visualizing my safe place. Mild pain gripped my body while each tendon and muscle supporting me tugged deeper. The moment I closed my eyes, the warm aches grew cold.
They eased.
It didn’t matter how hard I’d worked to cleanse my mind of the memories or how much of myself I’d thrown into coursework, my future, or new hobbies.
I always saw him when I closed my eyes.
Strong arms and a shoulder kissed with ink.
Ivy-green stares that tangled around my mind, no matter how many times I uprooted them.
The uniform.
The pier.
The fire in his house and his soul.
The woodshed.
The snow.
The letters.
He reached out and touched me, grazing my neck and hair. He kissed my stomach, smiling up at me from my bare waist. His teeth nibbled the skin protecting my hip bone before he licked a path down to the middle of my spread thighs. I was hot and desperate for him …
“Austin,” I whispered, clenching my eyelids as hard as possible to keep them from overflowing.
I bit down on my tongue, silencing the moan searching for its way out.
“Elle.” A voice called my name.
Lost in my safe place, I ignored it.
Why did you do it, Chief? We were perfect for each other. Show me how you never meant to hurt me. I need you. I’ve needed you since the moment I left you …
“Sheesh, Elle. Snap out of it!”
A hand grazed my arm, far daintier than I recalled his being. I wasn’t ready for the fantasy to end, but it was ready to end me.
Austin shook every inch of my body. I let his memory infect me like venom, slowly and designed to destroy.
My limbs quivered, reminding me of the last night we’d spent together at the house on Haroldeen Lane.
The pose I still held made me tremble the way only he could while the memory of him that I clung to made me feel things that only he could make me feel.
“Elle, seriously, are you okay?”
Failing me, my body collapsed. I flattened onto my back like a plank.
Hot flames rode the nerves up my neck after the back of my head tapped on the foam mat beneath me, protecting my skull from the hardwood floor.
Emotion poured from my tear glands. Like a heavy storm cloud, they could hold no more.
I winced, not because of the pain. But because when I finally opened my eyes, the only person left in the room with me was Ruthie. One of her arms supported my back; the other brought the straw of my glass water bottle to my lips. A discerning look replaced her typically playful one.
“When are we going to talk about him again? You can’t do this to yourself forever, babe. I’m worried about you …” Ruthie admitted.
I hugged my legs to my chest, the same way I had in Austin’s shower the first night I stayed at his place.
Just like that, he was gone. A ghost ship on my foggy horizon.
The lights in the studio were off.
It was time to leave.
“Why do we even come to yoga anymore? I’m not sure if this is still good for you, Ells. It seems to reopen old wounds. Wounds you won’t talk about anymore.”
Like always, Ruthie was right.
Rightly missing a key piece of the puzzle.
I smiled through the residual desire that coursed through me, knowing the truth.
That feeling, a feeling close to what only Austin could make me feel, was the only reason I kept coming back to Brielle’s class.