Letting Go (Letting Go Series #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

now, anyhow. Maybe more thoughts will come to me after I’ve had time to let it all “soak in,” as Sir suggested. For now, I need to get busy, to allow my subconscious time to work, to see if it might produce anything my conscious mind has missed.
     
    I start with a nice jog, three and a half miles winding through a lovely county park just a short distance from my home. It’s a beautiful day: blue sky dotted with cotton ball clouds, temperature hovering around seventy degrees, just the barest hint of a breeze. Plenty of people are out enjoying the park. Like me, some are exercising, walking or running along the gently sloping trails. Others are lounging about on the grassy fields, reading, listening to music, or just soaking up some sun. A few have picnics spread out on colorful blankets.
    I pass a few regulars I recognize, and we exchange nods or quick hellos. My route takes me about thirty minutes to complete, give or take a few, and then I head for home, walking the last three blocks to cool down. The run was wonderful. Running almost always puts me into a “zone” of peaceful oblivion, and today was no exception. It’s not until I’m less than a block from my apartment that I realize I have not thought about Sir even once for over half an hour.
    Finally, I feel like I’ve regained some control. But now I find myself wondering if any insights might have percolated up from my subconscious during my visit to the zone. I hope so.
    Inside my apartment, I grab a bottle of water and a container of strawberry yogurt from the fridge and sit down at the kitchen table. I chug three or four gulps of water to take the edge off my thirst, then lean back in my chair and close my eyes. Breathing slow, deep breaths, I let my mind wander back to this morning’s conversation. I can recall pretty much all of it now, maybe not word for word, but where I can’t remember the exact words I can still recall the gist. Unfortunately, no new insights seem to have come along with my improved memory.
    I’m not done, though. I have one more weapon in my arsenal.
    Usually after my run I take a long shower, basking in the streams of hot water rushing down my body, but not today. Today, it’s going to be a bath—a nice, long, relaxing bubble bath.
    Taking my yogurt with me, I head for the bathroom and start the tub filling, adding my favorite lavender scented bubbl e bath when the tub is about a third full. Bubbles immediately begin piling up where the water is pouring down into the tub, releasing their relaxing scent. I draw in a deep breath.
    While I wait for the tub to fill, I finish my yogurt and then grab my bag of tealight candles from under the sink. I spread five or six atop each edge of the tub and three more at the end where my feet will be. When the water is almost deep enough, I light the candles on the far side and at the foot of the tub, then climb in. The temperature of the water is just about perfect, so I turn off the water, light the remaining candles, and settle down into the warm, welcoming pool of bubbles.
    Closing my eyes, I lean my head back onto a small rubber pillow at the end of the tub and allow my mind to begin to drift. The combination of warm, bubbly water, soft flickering light behind my eyelids and fresh lavender scent filling my nostrils quickly relaxes me. For the third time today, my mind leaves my conscious control.
    How long I remain that way, I’m not sure—no clocks or cell phones are allowed in the bathroom during bubble bath time—but when my brain returns to earth the water has cooled and most of the bubbles have burst or evaporated. I grab a loufa and quickly scrub my body, then stand up and rinse off under the shower.
    I feel great, but I’m no closer to any decision about whether to call Sir tomorrow. That’s okay, though. I still ha ve plenty of time to decide. At least my run and my bath provided plenty of distraction. The afternoon is half over, and I’m having dinner with Amanda