It felt so wrong being in there, snooping on this clueless teenage girl. Ava’s stomach churned as she remembered the picture of her husband and the doodle in the notebook.
I need to stop,she thought as she slammed the front door closed behind her.I can’t keep doing this.
Ava tried to keep her cool as she made her way down the stairs, her legs shaking even more than before. The sights wouldn’t leave her mind, though. They were burned into her eyes. It was all she could see. It was all she could think about.
When Ava reached the bottom of the stairs, she lunged out of the door and breathed in the fresh air, inhaling deeply as she tried to calm herself down.
Chapter 8
When in doubt, follow your boner
Doesmarriagenotmeananythinganymore?Rollo thought.
He was occupied with the idea, obsessed by it. He’d always been faithful to Ava and yet she seemed determined to get him to cheat. With a teenager, no less. A teenager that had no problem fucking a married man to begin with.
He was standing in the middle of a waiting room. There were a couple of chairs dotted around but all of them were already taken. A small reception desk was opposite the front door, with a tiny brown-haired woman sitting behind it. The sleek, rimless glasses were balanced on the edge of her nose as she looked through them to the computer screen tucked behind the desk.
Everyone there was waiting for the yoga class to start, including Rollo. He felt out of place there. Like a foreigner in a strange, new world.
Everything in the room was there to try and make you feel relaxed. From the plinky-plonky music to the landscape paintings to the beige carpet and pale blue paint on the walls.
Rollo didn’t buy into the yoga-hippie crap, and yet he found himself here anyway. It worked for so many people and he was desperate. He had to try it. He had to try something. Anything.
If yoga wouldn’t fix him, he didn’t know what else he could possibly try. Drinking himself into a stupor? Getting therapy? Jumping on a plane to Europe and never looking back?
Rollo sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.
Does anyone have morals anymore? Or is that something only for the dinosaurs?
He’d heard all the women in his office raving about how fantastic this place was. Since he was having both marital and work problems, he figured now was a great time to try this whole yoga thing out. He’d never been one for yoga or meditation or the vegan-hippie lifestyle but, as his entire life was in shattered shards, he realized it wouldn’t hurt to try.
“Whatever’s got you stressed, Ben will sort you out,” a kind voice said from behind him.
Rollo stopped rubbing the sides of his head and looked over his shoulders, feeling a little bewildered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he saw an impossibly tall blonde woman standing beside him, her head tilted to one side with her eyebrows pulled together.
Pity,Rollo thought.That’s pity. She pities me.
A sickening feeling began to eat at him from the inside. Since when did people pity him? Her large, doe-brown eyes sparkled down at him. She was at least six feet tall—a little taller than Rollo himself—and her lanky body was clad in skintight yoga clothes. The woman reached out to touch Rollo’s upper arm. She patted him gently.
“Whatever it is,” the woman cooed, “you’re safe from it all here.”
Rollo didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t in a crisis, he wasn’t in danger, and he certainly didn’t feel unsafe. The only problems in his life were the damn women around him. He eyed the tall woman suspiciously but muttered his thanks, nonetheless.
“Sarah!” Another woman called across the room.
The tall woman turned and looked across the room. “Helen!” The tall woman called back. “Come here, meet my new friend.”
New friend?Rollo thought, looking between them.
The other woman was significantly older, at least in her mid-fifties. She had graying hair and lines all over her face. Like Sarah, the tall woman, she was wearing skin-tight clothes. Helen’s body was more rounded at the edges, curvy and full.
Rollo didn’t particularly want to see strangers in this state of undress. He was already struggling with being his wife, seemingly insisting on him being unfaithful. How the hell was he supposed to feel about strangers now, too? Everything was so confusing. He didn’t know where to look or how to act or what to think.
Helen sauntered over and put her arm around Sarah. “Who’s the new boy?”
Both of the women looked at him expectantly. “Rollo,” he said begrudgingly. “Nice to meet you both.”
“I’m Sarah,” the tall woman said, pointing to herself, “and this is Helen, my best friend at yoga.”