Hannah. (Van Den Bosch #7)

Chapter 8

8

Hannah

While the vibrant garden hums with laughter and the clinking of glasses as the staff presents a gleaming bottle of champagne, I feel disconnected, adrift in my thoughts. The atmosphere buzzes with infectious energy, sunlight flickering in the bubbles of the champagne, yet none of it reaches me.

It’s been…a strange day, to say the least. Staying with Astrid’s family has been lovely, but from the moment she mentioned all her friends and her boyfriend coming to the croquet game this afternoon, I’ve been on edge. I tried to prepare myself endlessly for seeing Johan in person again, but it didn’t help. When we locked eyes, my stomach still did a somersault.

Then there is Conrad. He latched onto me immediately, and I have to say…I don’t really mind the attention. Usually, the pushier guys annoy me, but Conrad expertly blends charm and confidence so that I don’t get tired of him. I like his company, even if it’s clearly based on flirtation.

I’m lost in thought, enjoying the warm, friendly atmosphere, when Conrad raises his glass, taps his signet ring against it, and causes everyone to quiet down.

“Ladies and gents, if I may have your attention!” Conrad's voice, smooth and rich, cuts through the chatter. The crowd gradually quiets, turning their gaze toward him.

“I have the pleasure of announcing today's Croquet champion—none other than our lovely Dutch newcomer, Miss Hannah!” Conrad's words are met with cheers and applause, the crowd eagerly clinking glasses in celebration. I feel my cheeks flush, genuine surprise written across my face. Apparently, Conrad can turn any moment into a spectacle, and this is no exception. He raises his glass once more, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “To Hannah, today’s honorary champion! May this day be remembered as the start of countless delightful memories at Goschen Hall!”

Of course, I didn’t win, but it’s not like anyone was keeping score. Well, except for maybe Johan, if the way he was watching me play is any indication. I mean…I did take a momentary interest in defeating him just for the sake of it, but any score I was keeping track of is forgotten.

Laughing awkwardly, I wave at everyone. “Thanks….”

Astrid gives me an encouraging smile before taking another sip of her drink. Despite not wanting to be the center of attention, I lift my glass, acknowledging the toast, though, in my heart, I know I’m not the real victor. Nevertheless, the champagne flows, laughter bubbles, and for a brief moment, the world feels carefree and joyful.

The crowd echoes the sentiment, the air full of cheerful agreement. Though I know it's all in good fun, I can't help but feel a sense of warmth at being welcomed into this tight-knit circle, even if just for a moment. As I take a sip of the champagne, its effervescence tingling on my tongue, I glance toward Astrid, silently expressing my gratitude for her friendship and the unexpected kindness of this group.

Instead of returning my silent affection, Astrid looks down, her smile gone as if preoccupied with something, and I shoot Johan a sharp look. He's all poker-faced, acting like nothing's wrong in the midst of this lively crowd. But I know he’s the only one that could cause her to feel like this, and even if I have no idea why, it's infuriating.

So I mouth in his direction, “Are you serious?” while he stares back, calm and collected. Seriously, what's his deal? A silent glare is my response to Johan's stoic facade. His gaze meets mine momentarily, and I see a flicker of something I can't grasp—remorse, guilt, or perhaps both. It vanishes swiftly, replaced by a cool detachment, intensifying my frustration.

I need to talk to Astrid, but when I turn to find her, she’s gone. I feel a surge of empathy for her and whatever heartache Johan is causing her to feel. So, I excuse myself, leaving the rest of the group mingling in the beautiful garden under the oak tree as I go and search for my friend.

It’s a long walk back to the house, but I don’t mind. Determined to find Astrid, I approach one of the housekeepers bustling in the hallway. She stops just long enough to look up at me.

“Sorry, do you know where Astrid went? She left the party abruptly, and I’m concerned.”

The woman nods in understanding. “Oh, she probably went upstairs to her room. When you go up, turn right, and it's the second door on your left.”

Grateful for the guidance, I climb the elegant marble staircase, the soft glow of chandeliers lighting my way. The upper floor stretches ahead, all creams and florals with brass fixtures.

Following the housekeeper’s directions, I find Astrid's room. I knock a few times, but no one answers. Twisting the handle, the door creaks open as I enter, revealing a space as elegant as the rest of the house. Delicate curtains sway in the afternoon breeze, casting gentle shadows on the walls.

But Astrid isn’t here.

Driven by intuition, I get inside and continue my search, eventually finding her on her balcony. The air is cool, and Astrid sits there, a silhouette against the light. Indie music is playing from her phone on the table beside her. She seems pensive, her gaze focused on nowhere, as she blows out a stream of smoke after taking a drag off a cigarette.

I approach her cautiously, my voice breaking the silence. “Hey, are you okay? You left the party so suddenly; I got worried.”

Astrid turns to look at me, her eyes sad. There’s a moment of quiet before she sighs, her voice heavy. “Sometimes, I just need a moment away from everything. It all becomes too overwhelming.”

I sit in the chair beside her, feeling her need to talk. “Is something bothering you, though?” I ask gently, shifting towards her. “You seemed off back there.”

Astrid hesitates, her gaze fixed on the sprawling estate below. “It’s just…” she lets her words hang in the air, her tone filled with a sadness that breaks my heart. “Things with Johan aren't going as smoothly as I’d hoped.”

I reach out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I offer, even though her and Johan’s relationship is one of the last things I want to talk about. “I’m here for you if you need me.”

Astrid's voice trembles as she shares her story, her eyes glazed with hurt. She takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself, and begins her tale.

“We were inseparable all summer,” she starts, sounding nostalgic. “Three months of constant togetherness. Mykonos, Saint Tropez, Ibiza, Mallorca, Formentera...you name it, we explored every corner of those places together. It felt like a honeymoon in a way, you know? I fell so deeply in love with him, and it seemed like he felt the same.”

Woah. Hearing her say these things about Johan makes my heart ache. He said that they were strictly casual, but there's nothing casual about this honeymoon-like vacation. I’m furious with him, but I have to put her feelings first. Maybe I can just pretend she’s talking about someone else. Still, I can’t stop thinking about them traveling all summer, lounging on beaches, staying in romantic suites, and Johan still calling her a casual fling.

Astrid's words feel heavy, and I can see the pain etched in her features as she continues, “When we came back to Cambridge, I thought it was the next natural step. That we were official, you know. I started introducing him as my boyfriend, thinking we were on the same page. But now, he suddenly has a problem with it.”

I have a terrible, sinking feeling that I might know the reason behind his hesitation. But I’m certainly not going to tell her that. My sweet friend Astrid is clearly hurt, her hands gesturing, trying to convey the depth of her confusion. “We never had that official conversation, you know? The one where you sit down and say, 'Okay, we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend.' But after everything we shared, I assumed we were there. I assumed he felt the same way. Why wouldn’t I?”

I reach down to grab her hand with mine, offering a supportive presence as she vents her feelings. “But it seems,” she concludes after another long pull of the cigarette, her voice laced with disappointment, "that Mr. Bentinck isn’t ready to commit himself to me. That he wants to remain as friends with benefits for the foreseeable future.”

Once she’s finished, Astrid lets out a sigh, the sound of which is both angry and sad. Clearly, this situation has left her emotionally shaken, and I can't help but empathize with her pain. As her friend, all I want is to help her navigate through this complicated mess, even if I might be playing an unwilling part in it.

A deep melancholy washes over me, but I try not to show it. Though I have harbored a crush on Johan for years, it was nothing compared to the profound connection Astrid shared with him over the summer—even if what Johan and I shared was still significant in its own way. Astrid and Johan spent all summer traveling, having sex, and falling for each other, and I simply can’t stand in the way of that. It stings to see her hurting, her trust in their relationship shattered.

“What are you going to do now?” I inquire softly, my voice gentle, not wanting to add more pressure to her already burdened heart.

She looks up at me, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need time to think, to figure out what I want out of that relationship.”

I squeeze her hand, and Astrid leans her head on my shoulder, finding solace in the comfort of our friendship. “Thank you for checking on me, Hannah,” she murmurs, grateful. “I didn’t mean to ruin your afternoon.”

“You aren’t ruining anything,” I assure her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I came here to be with you. Your happiness means more to me than any party or social gathering.”

She manages a small smile, appreciating my support. “You should go back,” she suggests, her voice gentle. “Mingle with Conrad, Jackie, and Edward. They might wonder where we are.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, concern pulling my mouth down into a frown. I don’t love the idea of leaving her here, knowing how much she’s going through. “I could stay here with you. I don’t mind missing the party.”

Astrid shakes her head, a flicker of determination in her eyes. “No, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want Johan’s thoughtlessness to dictate our evening.”

“Do you want me to tell them you came upstairs to freshen up?”

Her smile is small, but still, it’s something. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

I nod, reluctantly leaving Astrid’s side. As I step out, my mind buzzes with a million different thoughts. Anger simmers beneath the surface, directed at Johan for his callousness and disregard for Astrid’s feelings. Yet, there’s also a conflict within me, a gnawing uncertainty about my own emotions. Despite my frustrations, I can’t help but wonder if my lingering feelings for Johan are coloring my judgment.

But one thing is clear—I’m not about to let Astrid bear this burden alone. If it means confronting Johan and holding him accountable, then so be it. For Astrid’s sake, I’m prepared to face whatever comes our way.

The late afternoon has morphed from a refreshing glass of champagne after a croquet match to a full-blown garden party. I have to maneuver through the crowd, full of people laughing and drinking, before I spot Johan in the distance.

I wait until he meets my eye, cocking my head back towards the house before turning and waiting for him to follow. There is some invisible connection between Johan and me, and I know without even looking that he’s behind me. I’m not sure how, but I do.

After navigating the estate mansion’s twists and turns, I finally find a small, secluded library and enter, waiting for Johan to join me. When he does, he shuts the door behind himself, his face guarded.

“What do you–”

“No, you don’t get to start,” I hiss, pointing an angry finger at him. “Not only did you act like an asshole by ghosting me over text when I first got to Cambridge, but now you’re being a jerk to the woman that you spent an entire summer with?”

Johan’s laugh is bitter. “Oh, I see news spreads fast around here.”

“She loves you, Johan,” I rant, throwing my hands in the air. “Did you know that?”

His eyes shutter, his expression shutting down. “I…knew she had feelings for me, but she never said those exact words out loud.”

His vagueness is frustrating me. “Okay, and? Do you love her back?”

Johan sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, his eyes locking onto mine. He drops the act, and it shakes me to my core to see how distressed and confused he is. His fists open and clench over and over, and his woodsy, spicy scent is all around me.

Johan has never looked better to me, but he has never been more forbidden.

Walking forward to bring himself closer to me, he licks his lips before continuing, “Let’s just say that your arrival on campus has made things a little more complicated for me.”

Energy snaps in the air between us, charged with a potent mixture of desire and restraint, causing my heart to pound faster. Inches apart, our breaths mingle, creating a tangible tension that wraps around us like a vice. Johan's eyes flicker down to my lips, a silent invitation nearly pulling me into the abyss of a forbidden kiss.

“I don't see why,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Temptation is a tantalizing force, and I try to escape it by stepping back. My senses are suddenly jolted back to reality when my back meets the cool, unyielding surface of the wall, trapping me, while his proximity threatens to shatter my resolve. “Astrid loves you, and she’s a wonderful woman. You should give her a chance.” My tone isn’t as determined as I wanted it to be, and Johan picks up on that. He takes a step forward, closing the small space between us. My heart rate brisks at the proximity, and my lips part as our eyes lock.

“Why are you so worried about Astrid and me?” His voice is low and warm, his presence overwhelming.

“Because she’s a good person,” I pull off, fueled by my determination to protect my friend's heart. I hold his gaze and add with conviction, “I want her to be happy, and I can’t fathom doing anything with the man she loves.”

“What if I want…” His gaze trails down to my lips, stopping there. “Someone else?”

My heart skips a beat at his question, my mouth gap wide open, but I’m left speechless.

Johan tilts his head to the side, and I’m sure for a second that he’s going to press his lips to mine. There is so little space left between us that I can feel his breath ghosting across my face, causing my heartbeat to pound so loud in my chest that I’m sure he can hear it. Oh gosh… it’s too much.

Turning my body, I try to escape, but in a flash, Johan’s hands come up to bracket me in, hands splayed out on each side of the wall next to me. I gasp.

“Is this really what you want?” he demands, his eyes searching for my averted gaze. “Me with her?”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

Cornered, I find myself trapped against the wall, his hands on either side of me, effectively blocking any escape. His gaze continues searching mine, demanding honesty, and I feel the weight of his scrutiny as he lifts my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Look me in the eye.” His soft command causes my heart to skip a beat and my breath to quicken. “And say what you want, word for word.”

At that moment, my conflicting desires wage war within me. I want to give in, to succumb to the magnetic pull between us. His dark and intense eyes draw me in, promising a world of passion and longing.

“Johan…” I shut my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall in an attempt to regain my rational mind. The image of Astrid’s tear-streaked face flashes before my eyes, a stark reminder of the consequences of my actions. “I just want us to be friends,” I lie, my voice trembling slightly as I speak. “Like we used to.”

I avert my gaze, unable to bear the intensity of his scrutiny. I can’t believe I just lied to his face, but at the same time, what choice did he leave me? Beneath the surface of it all, the undeniable yearning lingers, destined to go unanswered yet again.

Johan’s eyes flicker, a mix of resignation and hurt. “Thanks for clarifying,” he says, his voice oddly neutral. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he steps back, putting distance between us. The charged atmosphere evaporates as he walks away. Watching him leave the room, I’m left in a whirlwind of emotions—attraction, regret, and a deep pang of longing.

God, did I really give up the chance to be with Johan after all these years of wanting him? The raw energy between us has been undeniable, a force so strong it felt like it could drown us, and now we’re finally in a place where we could act on it. But of course, we can’t. The thought of hurting Astrid is just too much to bear.

I take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady my racing heart and sort through the chaos in my mind. His eyes, presence, and scent…. stick in my thoughts. With every heartbeat, I question my decision, wondering if I’ve just let go of something extraordinary.