Library
Home / Journey to You / Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Twenty-Seven

T amara lay on the wooden massage table, wriggling around to get comfortable while clutching a skimpy towel to cover herself.

Her mum had extolled the virtues of Ayurvedic therapies at length, a firm believer that all aspects of life—from people to animals to diseases—were combinations of the three energy elements: air, fire and water.

Tamara had been told her dosha —constitution—was predominantly air, meaning she was prone to worry and anxiety.

As the therapist, a woman of indeterminate age dressed in a simple white sari, positioned a pot of hot oil directly over her head, Tamara thought she had every right to be anxious.

“Relax,” the therapist said, her voice a low, soothing monotone. “This will help rebalance you.”

Easy for the massage therapist to say. She wasn’t the one about to get hot oil dripped onto her forehead. However, as the first trickle flowed gently onto Tamara’s forehead, she exhaled in relief and closed her eyes, filled with a serenity she’d been craving for a week.

She’d returned to India to centre herself, to recapture the feeling of belonging she’d experienced during her trip, and while she’d been more grounded in the last seven days than she had in a while, a strange restlessness still gripped her.

She’d expected an instant fix for her edginess in coming back. Crazy, considering what she’d been through, but at least she could relax in Goa without fear of opening a newspaper, turning on a television, or surfing online to find evidence of Richard’s disregard leering at her. She’d never been more grateful that she’d shut down her social media accounts after he died and ignored online tabloids.

The oil stream stopped and she squinted through one eye, watching the therapist straightening the oil pot before she delved bony fingers through her hair to her scalp.

“Too tense, too tense.” The woman tut-tutted, digging her fingers deeper until Tamara sighed, determined to ignore her negative thoughts and luxuriate under the expert tutelage of massaging fingers.

“Breathe. Let the oils help you.”

Great, she’d stumbled across another wannabe fortune teller. Though from the tension in her muscles, it didn’t take a psychic to figure out she was anxious about something.

“Sandalwood is good for stress, frankincense for fear, gardenia for anger,” the therapist droned. “Breathe, let the oils work for you.”

Discovering her husband was a lying cheater and his mistress had told the world about it, led to loads of stress. Not to mention the baby bonus. And Tamara was scared; scared she’d made the wrong decision in leaving behind the one man who’d brought joy to her life in a long time. As for anger, she thought she’d left that behind when she walked away from Sonja and all she stood for.

“Your dosha needs soothing, many treatments. Abhyanga and aromatherapy today, meditation tomorrow, colour and gem therapy the day after. Yes?”

Tamara could handle abhyanga —this massage was to die for—and the oils and meditation at a pinch, but she had the feeling this wise woman was giving her a sales pitch along with the amateur psychobabble.

Mumbling a noncommittal response, Tamara concentrated on relaxing her muscles and blanking her mind. It didn’t work. Her thoughts zoomed straight back to Ethan. What was he thinking? Doing? Feeling?

It had taken her limited supply of courage to see him again after she’d stormed out of Ambrosia the day she’d discovered Richard had a love child by his mistress.

But she had to tell Ethan the truth. She loved him, trusted him, and while he hadn’t said the words back, she knew he was a man of action rather than words. His admission, ripped from deep within, spoke volumes. He was a control freak and for someone like him, this powerful yet nebulous emotion gripping her would be terrifying for him.

She understood. But she wouldn’t wait around forever. A fresh start meant exactly that and if he wasn’t at the Taj…she’d cross that bridge if she had to.

“No good.” The woman pummelled her thigh muscles, lifted a leg, and dropped it. “Too tense. You go, come back tomorrow.”

Tamara opened her eyes and sat up, clutching the towel to her chest. “But I paid for an hour.”

The woman waved her away. “I will give you two hours tomorrow but today, useless. Your muscles—” she banged the wooden table with a fist “—hard as this. Abhyanga not work for you today.”

Tamara opened her mouth to protest again but the woman floated out of the room with a whirl of sari, leaving her cold, semi-naked, and rueing her decision to have a massage to unwind.

Maybe she would come back tomorrow. Then again, she had a feeling nothing could help release the pent up tension twisting her muscles into ropes of steel.

Nothing, apart from having Ethan arrive on her doorstep.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.