Chapter Ten - Daniel
CHAPTER TEN
Daniel
DANIEL STOOD IN the dimly lit parking lot, still shirtless, his sweat cooling uncomfortably as his pulse thumped against his ribs. His head was empty and too full all at once, a static buzz drowning out any coherent thought.
She’s upset, that’s all.
We’ll talk, and she’ll get over it.
A sick feeling twisted low in his stomach, but he shoved it down. What he’d been doing with Sienna had nothing to do with Hannah. Nothing. It had never been about her.
She’s overreacting.
She just needs time to calm down.
“Hey,” Sienna’s voice was soft, airy, a gentle exhale of breath. She placed a warm hand on his bare arm. “You’re very ungrounded right now.”
Daniel turned to her, his pulse pounding in his ears. His skin crawled where she touched him.
“I don’t love you.” The words came out hoarse, uneven. “I don’t feel anything for you.”
Sienna blinked at him. Then she smiled.
“Love is an illusion of the ego, Daniel.” She tilted her head, her expression soft. Patient, like she was guiding him through some kind of spiritual awakening. “This isn’t about love. This was energy. Primal, divine energy.”
He felt like he might throw up.
Sienna stepped closer, her eyes glowing with serene certainty. “You need to let go of this guilt—it’s just ego attachment.”
Daniel exhaled sharply, looking away, his fingers flexing at his sides.
His wife just caught him cheating on her, and this woman was talking about ego attachment?
His head throbbed. His skin itched. He needed to not be standing here.
Sienna reached out, pressing two fingers lightly between his eyebrows. “Your third eye is so tight.”
Daniel flinched, jerking away as though she’d burned him.
She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re holding so much tension.”
“Just—don’t,” he snapped, raking a hand through his hair.
She sighed again, like she pitied him. Like he was a child.
“You’re resisting the truth.”
Daniel clenched his jaw. “And what truth is that, exactly?”
“That everything happens for a reason.” Her voice was gentle, ethereal. “This moment was meant to be, Daniel. We were meant to connect in this way. Our chakras aligned at exactly the right time.” She gave a slow, blissful blink. “You were very open to me.”
His stomach lurched.
He turned away, looking out at the quiet, empty lot.
Hannah’s car was long gone.
A flash of something cold, unfamiliar shot through his chest. He didn’t know where she’d gone. If she’d gone home. If she was okay.
Of course she’s not okay.
But what was he supposed to do?
Go running after her? Cry in the street? Grovel?
No.
No, he should give her time. She’d seen something upsetting, that was all. It had shocked her. She was emotional right now, but Hannah knew him . She knew what they had.
This wasn’t important.
It was just fucking .
It wasn’t their marriage.
His throat felt tight, but he rolled his shoulders back, shaking off the strange, suffocating feeling creeping in at the edges. It was just the adrenaline crash, nothing more.
He’d go home soon.
They’d talk.
She’d get over it.
She had to.
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The house was dark when Daniel stepped inside.
He shut the door behind him, the quiet pressed around him like a weight. Normally, there was something—Hannah humming absentmindedly in the kitchen, the sound of water running from the sink, the distant buzz of the TV.
Tonight, there was nothing.
His stomach knotted as he stepped further into the house, his feet dragging slightly against the hardwood. Maybe she was in the bedroom. Maybe she’d just needed time to cool off, and now they could actually talk. She could talk, and he could explain—
His steps faltered.
There, on the kitchen counter, catching the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the window—
Her wedding ring.
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at it.
The sight of it physically jarred him. As if some part of his brain couldn’t fully process what he was looking at.
No.
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
His feet carried him forward before he could think. His fingers curled around the ring, lifting it off the counter.
He clenched his jaw, gripping the small band between his fingers.
A harsh breath left his lips.
Daniel turned toward the stairs, pushing down the sick feeling rising in his throat. Maybe she’d just… maybe she’d needed a second. A moment to breathe.
He needed to see her. They needed to talk.
His steps were too quick as he made his way upstairs, the ring still burning in his hand.
But when he pushed open the bedroom door, it was empty.
A deep, sickening pull settled low in his stomach.
The closet door was open. Her suitcase was gone.
No. She was just—she was just angry. She was making a point. She wasn’t actually leaving him.
Daniel forced in a breath, his fingers closing tighter around the ring. His throat burned as he swallowed.
She just needed time.
That was all.
She had to come back.
Because if she didn’t—
No. He wouldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t let himself.
This wasn’t permanent.
It couldn’t be.