Chapter Eighteen - Daniel
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Daniel
THIS WAS STUPID.
The last place he wanted to be was here.
The yoga studio loomed in front of him, the faint sound of meditative music drifting through the glass doors.
Unease prickled at the edges of his thoughts.
He should leave.
Hannah had frozen him out. Calls, texts, even fucking email, she was ignoring it all. It was like she had erased him overnight, like he had ceased to exist in her world.
And when he’d shown up at Mia and James’ place, thinking maybe—maybe—he could talk to her face to face?
Yeah. That had gone well. Daniel was still bruised.
He didn’t want to show up at her work. She took her job seriously—too seriously, if he was being honest.
All that time spent talking about "connecting generations" and "building community." He never really got it. But he knew she wouldn’t want him showing up there, making a scene.
And home wasn’t an option. She wasn’t there anymore.
So he’d come here. To the Sunday morning class that Hannah never missed.
Even though he was almost certain she wouldn’t be here. Even though this place reminded him of everything that had gone wrong.
But the smallest chance she might show up—the tiniest flicker of hope that he could see her, say something, be heard —meant he had to try.
Daniel exhaled sharply and climbed out of the car before he could talk himself out of it.
The moment he stepped inside, the memory of the last time he’d been here hit him like a fist to the gut.
He swallowed hard, his fingers flexing at his sides.
He could hear the soft murmur of voices, the faint shuffle of mats being unrolled.
He stepped toward the main studio door, hesitating just long enough for a voice to cut through the quiet.
“Daniel.”
Daniel stiffened.
Fuck.
Sienna.
She emerged from the hallway, dressed in an earth-toned ensemble, her hair in a loose braid. She carried herself with the same weightless energy as always, like she was floating rather than walking.
Daniel’s stomach clenched.
This was a mistake.
Sienna smiled, slow and knowing. “Looking for me?”
Daniel’s jaw ticked.
“No, I’m looking for my wife .” He exhaled through his nose, keeping his expression blank. “Is she here?”
Sienna just studied him for a long moment, like she was reading his aura or whatever the fuck she thought she could see.
Sienna sighed, tilting her head. “There’s something restless in your energy today.”
God, he didn’t even like her. He never had. Not really.
Daniel rubbed a hand down his face. “Jesus, Sienna, just—” He stopped himself, inhaling sharply, reining it in. “Do you know where she is?”
Sienna leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. “I don’t keep tabs on your wife, Daniel.” She watched him carefully, her expression unreadable. “But I can tell you that she cancelled her membership.”
Daniel’s pulse hammered. He swallowed hard, something cold seeping into his chest.
Yoga had been hers. This place had been hers. And now she had given it up.
Sienna stepped closer, reaching out, grazing her fingertips down his arm. “This tension you’re holding onto is so intense,” she murmured.
Daniel jerked back like she was poison. “ No .”
Sienna just smiled knowingly. “Your root chakra is telling a different story.”
Daniel stared at her.
She was serious.
His teeth clenched. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
Sienna sighed, like he was a poor lost soul. “Sex is energy, Daniel.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“A flow state,” she continued, as if she were explaining basic math. “A transcendence of the physical self.” She spoke seriously, like she was letting him in on the secret of the universe.
Daniel just stared at her. “You’re joking.”
Sienna sighed, deeply and patiently, like a guru speaking to a lost soul.
“Your resistance to pleasure is blocking your spiritual alignment.”
Daniel turned and walked out.
The scent of eucalyptus and absolute bullshit burned in his lungs.