Page 107 of I Am Sin

The relaxing floral scent of the lavender seeps into my body, relieving the tension.

Facilitating the role of my chakras.

And I breathe, breathe, breathe…

Then I open my eyes.

Yeah.

I’m telling myself a bunch of lies. None of this is working.

When I have fewer things weighing on my mind, this exercise helps a little. It gives me something to focus on for a few minutes, offers an escape.

But once I’ve traveled through the rainbow of chakras, my problems are right there waiting for me, excited to start feasting on my anxiety again.

I’m sure this kind of exercise works for someone like Ashley. Colors mean more to her than they do to me. To me, they’re just colors. And I have never bought into the idea that certain colors correlate to certain parts of the body and certain parts of the mind and blah blah blah. It all makes about as much sense as my cousin Ava’s Tarot cards and all the heady spiritual stuff she believes in.

Me? I’m just Diana.

I’m an architect. Architecture is all about mathematics and physics. Sure, there’s a creative aspect to it—one which I enjoy immensely.

But if you don’t get the math and physics right, that beautiful building you designed will fall.

There’s nothing spiritual about math and physics.

I stay in the tub for a few moments longer because the warmth and aroma are relaxing.

Then I step out of the water, dry myself in a fluffy white towel, moisturize my face for the night, and get into the lounging pants and tank top that I wear as pajamas.

I lied to Dragon. I don’t sleep in lace nighties. I put that on yesterday morning because…

Because I wanted him to notice me. I wanted to entice him.

Admitting that consciously to myself is kind of freeing.

Now it’s time to eat something.

I finished my shake, so I head to the kitchen and make myself a plate of fruit—some pineapple chunks, watermelon chunks, and a Granny Smith apple. I think about my sister, Brianna. Granny Smith is her favorite type of apple—we grow them in our orchards.

I like them too. The tartness of the apple and the sweetness of the pineapple and watermelon create a refreshing balance—my favorite combination for fruit salad.

I grab my phone to see if anyone has texted me. No one has. Not that I expect Dragon to text me. Why should I care where he is?

I set my phone down when it rings.

It’s Brianna.

“Bree?”

“Hey, Dee.”

“Why are you calling? Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your honeymoon?”

She giggles. “Come on. We have to come up for air once in a while.”

I can’t help smiling into the phone. I’m glad my little sister found her forever. Sometimes I wonder if that’s even in the cards for me.

“I just wanted to find out,” she continues, “how things are going with Dragon.”