Page 25 of Assigned

After taking a couple of centered breaths, we begin flowing through each of the poses. Plank to Cobra to Downward Dog. Soon sweat lines my forehead and I welcome the cool breeze. On occasion, I glance over at Riley to make sure she is okay. She’s focused, locked in. Just like she used to be whenever we attended one of my mother’s classes.

I lift my right leg high and then step it between my hands and rise up into Warrior I. I stop for a second and just watch. Riley is in Warrior I, too, sunlight reflecting off the blue sea in front of her. Strong and supple, her arms lifted high, chest open and proud. Picture perfect. She always did take my breath away. Still does.

Refocusing, I flow to the ground and then move on to Navasana, balancing on my sit bones, legs and arms extended into a V. Then I move forward into King Pigeon. Riley struggles a bit with the hip-opening pose but doesn’t give up. When we are done, we both grab our bottles of water. Sweat drips down our necks.

“That was awesome. I haven’t done this in so long, and on the beach no less. There’s something serene about being out here.” Riley folds her arms and shifts from foot to foot. “I want to see if I can still do Scorpion pose.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Ambitious if you haven’t done it in a while.” I remember the first time she nailed that pose in class. The strength it takes to balance on your forearms while inverting yourself and doing a backbend makes it a pretty big accomplishment. She hadn’t been able to help herself back then. She’d let out a big whoop before collapsing to the ground. The whole class had cracked up and then given her a standing ovation.

“Go big or go home, right? It’s kind of the Texas way.” She grins. “I’ve got this.”

I shrug. “Just don’t hurt yourself.”

“I know my limits.” Riley gets down on her knees and refocuses. She begins to get in position, balancing on her forearms, and she kicks her legs up in the air. When she starts to bend at the knees, bringing her feet toward her head, I see her wobble. As she arches to try to balance, I place my hand on her abdomen to steady her and between gravity and her movement, that dress-like shirt starts to lift.

“What the fuck, Lucas?” Riley falls sideways and springs to her feet. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I was just trying to help you.” I stiffen, immediately replaying what just happened in my mind. Did I touch her in some sexual way without her permission? No, my hands weren’t anywhere near her breasts. Nor was any part of my body pressing against hers.

“I told you I wasn’t ready for that... that kind of touching.” Her arms go around her stomach like she’s protecting something precious.

I hold up both hands, palms facing her with splayed fingers. “I only wanted to keep you from falling over. Swear it.”

Her chin wobbles like she might cry. “Well, it sure felt like that kind of touching.” She throws on her sweatshirt, then bends over to collect her things. “I’d like to go home now.”

I watch her march away from me back to the truck. Every damn thing I do is wrong. No matter how hard I try, it’s like I’ll never get it right.

My throat tightens.

Or be good enough.Her father’s words replay in my head. Just a stupid kid from the trailer park who will never amount to anything.

Grabbing the towel, I shove it into the bag and collect my crap. Each breath I take is sharp, shallow. So much for a fresh start. Damn woman walked away from me again. Just like last time. Who knows what will set her off because I sure as shit have no idea. And then what? She’ll walk right out the door breaking my heart. Mason’s heart.

This is exactly what Lisa had a problem with. Granted, maybe I overshared with my ex-wife, even possibly exaggerated about Riley’s cruelty. But still, Lisa is Mason’s mother and like me, she only wants the best for her son. Maybe I should listen to her instincts since mine clearly suck.

I lean back and fall onto the sand, resting my face in my hands. Lisa. The first sign that something was wrong in our marriage was when she pulled away from me physically, didn’t want me to touch her. Is this the first sign our relationship will never work? Riley doesn’t want me to touch her, just like Lisa didn’t want me to touch her. They’re so different, those two. Dark and light. Different personalities. Different hopes and dreams. There’s really only one common denominator—me.

Maybe Riley’s dad was right. I’m the problem. Two women walking away, there’s really no other explanation.

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