What do you meanspin?
This woman looks sweet and innocent, but I’m convinced her class was forged in the depths of hell.
Moments later, we’re hanging upside down, the top of my head close to touching the mat.
“My abs are on fire,” I groan. “Remind me why we’re doing this?”
Lilly, still floating like a fairy in her purple bodysuit, answers without looking at me. “I want to see if I should bring her into the program at the new studio.”
“Ladies, focus on your breathing,” the demon coos.
“He said we’re not rushing,” I whisper again, a bit lightheaded from all the blood rushing down. “Does that mean we’re headed somewhere?”
Lilly twists into the next pose with infuriating ease, while I somehow manage to wiggle my way through a clumsy backflip, landing into a sort of stunned Savasana.
“Beautiful,” the little she-devil murmurs. “Let’s come all the way out of the hammock.”
Everyone gracefully dismounts out of the silk fabric, smiling and thanking her. Not me. I’m not ready to get back out there. Instead, I bring my knees to my chest and let the fabric close around me like a pod. Curled inside, cocooned in my own feelings.
Lilly’s feet land beside me, and she slides her finger through the edge of the hammock, looking in at me.
“I think he might still love me,” I croak. “What do I do?”
“Do you hear yourself?” Lilly stares at me, brows lifted. “You’re in full panic mode, acting like a teenager having her first crush.”
“I could be wrong,” I whisper. “What if I’m wrong. What if—”
She pokes her head through the folds like a really messed-up version of a home birth. “Now you decide to second-guess yourself?” She sighs, is clearly exasperated with my meltdown.“You are Jackie. Fucking. Rawlings! Pull yourself together and tell the man you love him.”
The other women start filing out, and Lilly jerks her head back, then meets my gaze again, warm and steady. “Stay here. Breathe. Meditate in silence while I talk to Vera.”
I stay, curled up like a kid in time out, listening to my own heartbeat slow.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I grew up in a house with people so closed off that talking about feelings makes me feel like a gutted fish.
The idea of showing my hand scares me shitless. I have no solid evidence I can grasp, except for some things said in the heat of the moment. Glances I might be reading too much into. Echoes of what once was.
I’ve tried to reach out. Take the first baby step. But I’m afraid if I leap too far, I might fall into the void.
The birthday with his family showed me what we could be. But hope is a double-edged sword. One wrong move and it could leave wounds that’ll never heal this time.
And yet, I’m thinking about grabbing it with both hands.
I think of Eliza. How she’s slowly opened up to me these past few months spent at her home. She still gets threatening texts, still checks every corner when going outside. But she’s moving forward with the wedding. She refuses to love in fear of what might happen.
She got a shot at love and fought for it. Didn’t leta spineless sperm donor with bad breath,as she elegantly described Hall,keep her from enjoying life.
I let go of Adam before he had the chance to break me. Running off to London felt safer than waiting around for everything to fall apart.
What if it never did?
What if he can actually forgive me? Then I need to come clean. About everything. Even the part where I crossed the line and hacked his accounts.
Because if there’s still a chance for us…
