I was relieved to get home and back into my workout routine again. My tae kwon do class seemed to be the only structured part of my life anymore. Work was chaotic with Tyler’s e-mails coming at least once an hour, and home was a mess with Mouse’s erratic schedule and jealous vibes.

Master H counted loudly in Korean as we students made our way back and forth across the studio with measured punches and kicks. After an hour of structured practice, we broke into pairs to spar. Master H appointed himself as my sparring partner.

“Lori, you’re leaning too far forward when you punch. Rotate your hips forward,” he placed his hand on my right hip, “and ease some of your weight onto your back foot.” He met my gaze in the mirror and smiled.

“Thanks,” I said. “Are my kicks looking all right?”

“Excellent,” he said and put on his sparring gloves.

We fought hard. Master H snuck some punches past my blocks, which only succeeded in making me mad. I focused on anticipating his moves and gaining the offensive. His left glove came for my face, and I knocked it to the side with my right arm, exposing his back for a thrust kick to the kidney area. We fought on for fifteen minutes, five minutes longer than Master H usually has us spar, and I was exhausted. Master H was always so gentle when he sparred with me, though. His goal was obviously to teach me, to help me improve, never to hurt me. Finally, we bowed to each other, and I couldn’t help but smile as I noticed his dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat.

He grabbed a towel and wiped his face before turning to me again. “Good session, Lori.”

I took a long drink from my water bottle and smiled.

Master H threw the towel back toward his bag and gave my shoulders a quick squeeze. “We’ll have to do this more often.” He let his left hand slide halfway down my back before walking away, and it left a tingle in my spine. I watched Master H as he approached some higher-level students and started talking about their test at the end of the week—the test Tyler would be judging.