He screws his face up. “I don’t have feelings.”
I laugh. “Are you ever serious?”
“Deadly serious when I need to be. No fucks given for everything else.”
It’s a reminder of what he did, what he’s trained for. I guess humor is one way to deal with the dark parts of his job.
“How did you get into yoga? You said you used to work for a bank.”
I glance down, thinking about what to tell him. I don’t like talking about my past. It’s not that I did anything wrong. It’s just not the person I am now.
“I did, and I was damn good at my job too.”
“I can believe that.”
His arms move rhythmically over my back, and the shuddering has stopped. I’m warming up with him next to me, and I hope he’s doing the same.
“I told you I worked in commodities, dealing in futures and making trades.”
“What happened? You got fed up with making all that money?” He smirks, but it’s partly true.
“I liked the money at first. But it’s a high pressure job with high expectations. I was working eighty hour weeks and always worried I’d make a bad decision and people would lose their retirement funds. I was so anxious I bit my nails to the bone. I couldn’t eat, and when I did it was comfort food. Ice cream straight from the tub, an entire package of Oreos.”
I’ve never admitted this to anyone before, and I don't know why I’m telling Jace. He must think I’m a pig, but he keeps rubbing my back in slow circles, not saying a word.
Maybe it’s the darkness, or maybe it’s what we’ve been through, but once I start talking, I can’t stop.
“The people I worked with were assholes. Real assholes, not the jokey, arrogant type of asshole you are.”
“Um... thanks. I think.”
“Yeah, believe me, you’re strawberry shortcake compared to some of these guys.”
He stiffens, and his movements stop. “Did anyone hurt you? Or…”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s a cliche that traders are all sexist pigs. I saw some of that, and for sure, it was hard to be a woman in that environment, but it was mostly snide comments about my weight, and the usual come-ons that I learned to ignore.”
“Usual come-ons? That’s not a normal working environment, Kayla.”
I let out a long sigh in the dark. He’s right. When I say it out loud, it sounds horrendous. But at the time, I was so caught up in what I wanted and the push for more, more, more that I ignored the small daily indignities. I was blind to everything else.
“The worst part is that I wanted that success so much, I put up with all of that to get it. I wanted it, Jace. I wanted the money and the nice car and the city apartment. I wanted it all so badly.”
It sounds terrible to admit, and even though it’s dark, I keep my eyes down, not wanting to see the distaste that must surely be in his expression.
“Hey.”
His hand slides under my chin, and he tilts my head up so I have to look at him. But it’s not distaste I see in his eyes. It’s kindness and understanding.
“It’s not a crime to want financial success, Kayla. We grow up in a culture that values those things. Most people never get out of the rat race. It takes courage, and you did it.”
I shake my head, and I can’t look him in the eye. “Only when my health forced me to. Some days I was so anxious to go to work that I felt sick to the stomach. I ended up in the hospital from stress.That’swhen I realized things had to change.”
His movements on my back start again, and his touch feels like acceptance. I’ve just told him the darkest parts of myself, and he still wants to rub my back.
“Finding mindfulness and yoga helped me remember who I was. It gave my mind space, and in that space I realized I wanted to do something different with my life. I wanted to make a difference.”
The rhythmic movements of his hand on my back are reassuring, so I go on.
