The Sweetest Victory - Intertwined Series

Chapter Thirteen | I'll make it worth your while

Nothing cleared the mind, realigned the body, like Yoga.

Victory wasn't a woman who followed the carefully trodden path of others. She'd always preferred to find her own way, blazing a new trail as she went.

Most times, the bold and brazen approach her served her well, but there were times, as tends to happen when navigating uncharted waters, where she'd hit the occasional snag, or speed bump.
Some she'd scraped through, narrowly missing the margin, and others, she hadn't been quite so fortunate, leading to unexpected detours, delays and disasters she'd all but limped from.

But she'd tried to embrace those defining moments, to learn something valuable, burning the lesson into her brain, and most always, never repeating her mistakes. That was life, she mused, everyone had their own story and struggles. No one was exempt from challenges and hardships, or of trials meant to test the very strength of your will.

Much like yoga, if there was ever a better analogy for life, she thought as she moaned into a forward bend. She held there, head to knees, and breathed deep and slow for as long as she could stand it. Life was about breathing through each moment, even when it hurt—especially when it hurt, and finding the balance and the flow as you eased from one transition into the other.

Pushing yourself, finding yourself, opening up to embrace the aches and burn, each time getting a little stronger, a little steadier and more in control, learning from each progression.

And coming out the other side, perhaps winded and sore, but stronger, having seen what you were capable of accomplishing when pushed to the edges of your limits.

She certainly knew something about pushing limits. It was amazing to see how strong she'd been when being strong was her only option. Like when the turmoil and chaos that was life post-Derek almost ripped her world clean in two, creating a mess she had to find the determination and grit to overcome rather than succumb.

Palms set to the floor, she arched her back and sighed as each knot and snarled kink screamed against the low burn. Her body was wound tight as a spring. Too long, she noted, since she'd last had a good stretch, and now she was paying the price.

Easing into downward dog, her calves protested and hamstrings twinged. But as she shifted into plank and then into upward facing dog, Victory felt the protesting muscles, now warmed up, gradually conceding defeat.

Eyes closed, exhaling in a long and slow 'haaaa', she pushed back into downward dog, pressing her chest and heels down, palms to the floor. Tuned in to her body, her breathing, the steady shift and bend, with each new pose, the various parts of her no longer shed bitter tears, and soon she was able to slip away, her thoughts folding out in front of her, clean and clear and focused, as she set her own pace and found a rhythm.

Laundry piling up that needed to be done, tonight, the homemade jams and sauces she needed to make for her mom to take back to Aruba in a couple of weeks.

Gage's wicked mouth.

Don't forget to put upcoming venue meeting with Niobe in calendar.

She should send her father to a golf course for the day while she and her mom went dress shopping with Niobe later in the week. Remember to Google 'best golf course in Toronto' when she got home. Squeeze in an appointment at PNC for a mani/pedi.

Gage's teeth scraping over her bottom lip.

Assholes who screwed up on delivery orders, sending Vivaldi instead of the purple Peruvian potatoes and black truffles in lieu of the requested white.

Gage's ass...

Probably better to think of something else, she told herself as she eased into full lotus, dabbing at her face to mop up the trickles of sweat. But when nothing else as appealing came to mind, she only shrugged. Well, no harm ever came from looking.