Hannah. (Van Den Bosch #7)

Chapter 24

24

Johan

It was a restless night, but I still managed to get a few hours of rest. I set my alarm for as late as possible, so when my phone goes off before 9:00 a.m., I’m confused at first and pissed right after that.

Jolting up out of the sheets, I grab the phone off the bedside table and blink to clear my eyes. The name on the screen comes into focus, and when I see it says “Dad”, I quickly let go of whatever annoyance I have and answer his call. He wouldn't call me this early if it wasn't important.

“Hey, Dad,” I say once the line connects. “Everything okay with you and Mom?”

His voice is serious but, to my relief, not distressed. “We’re fine. But I need you to skip whatever you were doing this morning and come home. We have to talk.”

Now I’m sitting up even straighter, raking a hand through my hair as my pulse kicks up. “Dad, I can’t go now; I have a class to teach in an hour.”

“I already called your department head and let them know there was a minor family emergency you had to take care of.”

I swallow, a cold sweat coming over me. “Dad...is it really an emergency? You’re not making much sense, and that’s a big overstep to call my department head if it isn’t.”

Dad sighs. “It isn't an emergency yet. But if we don’t have this conversation, then it might become one. Just come home, and we’ll have a late breakfast and go over everything. You’ll be back to Cambridge right after.”

I’m speechless and just sit in silence for a few moments. Finally, he speaks again.

“I know about you and Hannah’s weekend getaway, Johan. I told you not to bring the girl to Portmeirion, and yet you disobeyed me.”

“Shit.” The word is more a breath than anything, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees and hanging my head.

“Language,” Dad chides.

“Right, sorry.”

“Breakfast. At home. I'll see you soon.”

“On my way.”

He ends the call, and I fall back onto the mattress, squeezing my eyes closed and pinching the bridge of my nose.

Well, hell.

Dad seemed disappointed I wouldn’t end up with Astrid in the end, but he also seemed accepting of the idea that Hannah and I might end up together. He didn't elaborate, but from his tone and the vague, ominous nature of the emergency conversation we have to have, something tells me that his feelings have changed. But how could my relationship issues possibly lead to something serious enough for me to need to come home right away?

Christ, and he even called my department head for me! If I wasn’t so worried about our upcoming talk, I’d be angry.

With a groan, I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror tells me I look like hell. Dark circles and heavy stubble under tired, bloodshot eyes greet me, and I grimace before splashing water on my face. It’s cold and wakes me up, and after a long, hot shower, I feel almost human.

My phone buzzes while I’m getting dressed, and when I check it, my stomach plummets.

Astrid: At what time shall we meet?

Of course she’d try and schedule it right as my father called me home.

Johan: Can we meet this afternoon? I have to head home for some family issue.

Astrid: Family issue? Are your parents okay?

With our families having grown so close, our lives are deeply intertwined, and to be honest, I appreciate her concern.

Johan: Everyone is physically fine. But yeah, Dad called and asked me to come home. I'll be back in Cambridge soon.

Astrid: That’s odd. Let me know if you need anything.

Johan: I will. Thanks.

I sigh and toss the phone down on my bed. It’s just another layer to an already complicated mess.

Breakfast with Dad. Then, a talk with Astrid. Then a talk with Hannah.

Hannah was supposed to meet me in my office ten minutes before I start class, and knowing I won’t be able to make it I write her a quick message apologizing and letting her know I need to go and meet my dad. Hopefully she won’t get too worried.

When I arrive, the familiar sight of our stone estate house soothes me. This is home, and although I don't live here anymore, it always will be. The smell of breakfast greets me as soon as I walk through the door, and the scent makes my mouth water.

Dad must have heard me pull up because he comes around the corner from the breakfast nook before I’ve even made it through the entryway, and we stare at each other for a moment. He looks older than he did the last time I saw him, a frown etched deep in his lined face. I wonder how stressed he’s been since learning of my little weekend away with Hannah…and why. He puts on what I know is a fake smile when he sees me, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Good morning, son. Thanks for coming so quickly. I’ve sent your mother away to run some errands, and we’ve got breakfast out on the back patio ready. Hungry?”

“Sure.” My voice doesn't sound like my own—it’s strained and nervous.

Dad, on the other hand, seems completely in control. Cool. Collected. Unnerving, really. It’s like he’s been building himself up to do something he dreads and, at this point, has just accepted it.

We fill our plates, and without even asking, Dad pours coffee for the both of us. The table is already set, and the sunshine warms the courtyard as we settle into the meal. We chat briefly, avoiding the topic of Hannah. My father doesn't push, and it’s killing me. When we’ve finished, and the staff has cleared the dishes, I’m a ball of nerves.

“Dad, what's this all about? Can we get on with it?”

He nods. “Of course. Let’s walk through the garden while we talk. Your mother is so proud of it, after all. Follow me.”

We head down the flagstone path, past the roses and tulips, past the neatly trimmed hedges and the pristine lawn, until finally, Dad stops at the large fountain in the center of the garden. A cherub holds a vase that spouts water into the pond below, and the steady stream of water is the only sound.

“Beautiful day,” Dad remarks, looking up at the bright sky.

“Dad.”

He glances at me, and there's a flash of…something. Regret? Hesitation? I can't place the look, but whatever it is, it makes my stomach churn.

“So, Johan. Hannah.”

Here we go. “Yes?”

“What are your intentions with her? Is this a passing crush?—”

“I told you it’s not,” I reply just as fast.

“Well, that’s not the impression I’ve gotten from the Portmeirion cottage staff.”

I narrow my eyes. “You had them, what, spying on us? Making a little report?”

Dad shakes his head. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s nothing so serious. It’s just that they mentioned…” He coughs in his hand, clearly feeling awkward. “That the two of you didn't leave the bedroom much, is all.”

Despite never being uncomfortable or ashamed about anything like this before, my cheeks burn. “Wonderful. Glad they were entertained.”

“Johan, please. Just tell me the truth. Are you serious about her? Do you see this becoming something long-term?”

I don't hesitate. “Yes. I’m serious. I’m not sure what the next steps are, but yes. I want to be with her.”

He lets out a long breath, his gaze drifting away. “I see.”

“Why? What's the problem?”

“This.” He shoves his hands into his pockets again, closing his eyes and letting the sun shine down on his face. “These feelings you have for her complicate things. You are a smart boy…a smart man, Johan. You should know with nobility comes responsibilities that aren't always pleasant. If you weren't serious about that girl, I was prepared to negotiate, letting this thing between you two run its course so you could end it neatly and naturally. Tell me, son...do you think she feels the same about you?”

I frown. “I’d hope so. We haven’t talked about it, and we've only just figured out how we're going to tell our family and friends. But this has been the most serious relationship I’ve ever had, and I’m confident Hannah feels the same.”

He gives me a long, hard look. “It’s just…she's quite a bit younger than you, isn't she?”

“Nine years.” I can feel my jaw tensing. “Can you just get to the point?”

Dad inhales and exhales slowly. “Yes…well. Since this doesn't appear to be something that can simply run its course, it's going to be quite a bit more painful than I anticipated, and for that, I’m sorry. Hannah, while not our first choice, is a perfectly suitable match, and under any other circumstances, we’d be glad to welcome her into the fold. But…” he pauses, and I get the impression he’s having to force the words out. “You have to end things with her, Johan. It’s simply not in the cards, my boy. You’re going to have to cut things off and then reconcile with Astrid.”

My stomach drops, and my head spins, and I grip the edge of the fountain, leaning forward and fighting the urge to retch.

“No.” It’s barely a word, just a guttural refusal.

Dad’s eyebrows raise. “Johan?—”

“No, Dad, listen to me.” I stand straight again, shaking my head. “Hannah is not some fling. She's not a phase, and there's no way in hell I’m walking away from her.”

I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “What if I told you that being with her would cost us everything?”

My racing thoughts screech to a halt, and I stand up straighter, my spine stiff. Dad’s hand drops away. “What did you say?”

“If you stay with Hannah, we’ll lose everything. The company, all the family properties...everything, Johan.”

If he was anyone besides my father, I’d spin around and grab him by the lapels, demanding an explanation. But this is my old man…my dad, who has always been my biggest supporter. I love my parents. The initial spark of violence simmers down, and when I turn to face him, all that is left is dread. “That is nonsense, Dad. Explain.”

He paces as he talks, a habit that I’ve picked up. It usually means whatever he’s about to say is going to be heavy. “This isn't easy to admit, and I’d hoped to have it all under control before you ever got wind of it, but...for the last few years, the family business hasn't been doing well. Investments have fallen through, and opportunities have folded. It was looking so abysmal that, at one point, I was considering selling the family estate to get us out of the hole. But then, someone I'd worked with in the past offered me a lifeline—a loan that would pull us out of debt and set us on the right path again. It was..ah. It was Ludovic—Astrid's father.”

I’m reeling. “Dad...why didn't you tell me?”

“Because it was my job to take care of it,” he snaps but exhales slowly once more, regaining control. “Let me finish, Johan. Please. He lent me the money, and it pulled us back to the surface once more. I anticipated that we'd have made enough to pay off the loan by now, but...we haven’t. It’s taking much longer than expected, and we still aren't turning a profit. We're barely staying afloat as is. I know if we have just a few more years, we'll be back on top once more, and this won’t be an issue, but I’m months past the agreed-upon date to have paid Astrid's father back. He could take me to court and take everything...but once again, he gave me a lifeline. This time, it's you who can save us.”

“Me?” I look at him, my eyes widening.

“Ludovic told me once you and Astrid have married, we'll all be family, and the loan will be forgiven.”

“Christ, Dad!” My fist clenches, and I fight the urge to punch something. “And what, you'd rather I sacrifice my happiness than figure it out? Why would he even offer that to you, anyway? How did you not see this coming?”

“So what if I did!” Dad scoffs. “At the time, you and Astrid were content. All signs pointed to an engagement soon. No one could have anticipated the wrench in the gears that is Hannah van den Bosch.”

I shake my head, stiffening. “That’s not happening.”

“You’re not listening to me, Johan! Her father isn't being unreasonable. He just wants his daughter with a proper husband and for her to be happy. If you want your inheritance saved…you will do as I tell you. You will end things with Hannah and reconcile with Astrid. By this time next year, the two of you will be wed.”

I stagger backward like he’s just punched me in the gut. “Married? Married, Dad? I don't love Astrid, and you know that! Forget about it.”

Now Dad becomes somber once more as he pulls at the neckline of his shirt. The day is starting to heat up. “But she loves you, Johan. She loves you even though she also knows about Hannah.”

It’s another blow, but one I had been getting myself ready for since hearing Astrid's voicemail last night. “No, she doesn't. She loves the idea of me. Of how perfect we are together on paper. Even if she's willing to marry me now, when the shock of everything has worn off, she's going to want someone who truly loves her. Not me. This will devastate us both in time. Two families fucking their children over because of money.” I shake my head at the whole gibberish I’m hearing. “You guys are all crazy!”

“Language, Johan. And you’re not seeing the big picture here. This is bigger than you, or her, or Hannah, or me. This is the family legacy, what your children will inherit. This is about their future, too.”

“Their future?” I laugh bitterly. “You’re more worried about the future of non-existent people than mine! Don’t you see that?” I ask louder, facing him fully. “You’re taking my future away from me right now. I’m not marrying Astrid. I refuse.”

Dad’s voice grows cold and stern, reminiscent of the one he used when I was a child and had displeased him. “Refusing is not an option. Listen to me—accept this now, or things will swiftly get a lot uglier.”

“How so? You'll disown me? Take everything away? I'll find a way to make it work without your help.”

His expression turns sad, and I watch the lines on his face grow deeper. “Johan, please. Do as I say. End things with Hannah. I know you care for her, but sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the sake of the greater good. And sometimes, our future isn’t what we expect.”

“I said no. I refuse. This is a mistake that you made and one that you are going to have to fix. If I have to live off nothing but my own income, then so be it. But I’m not going to be forced into a loveless marriage that will always be tainted by this manipulation you and Astrid's dad are trying to force on me.”

Dad shakes his head but doesn't press. His jaw twitches, and I can see his anger bubbling up. I can’t remember a single time that he’s ever been so upset with me. But this is my life, dammit, and he’s treating it like a game. Like my feelings don’t matter, or like he thinks I'll change my mind.

Well, I’m not about to.

“You can't make me do this, Dad. I’m sorry.”

His next words are so impactful that they feel like the tolling of church bells–a signal to mourn. “If you won’t think about your future, maybe you'll consider Hannah’s.”

The words are cryptic, and a cold chill runs down my spine. There is a creeping sense of oncoming dread, but I can't figure out why just yet. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He straightens, squaring his shoulders, and folds his arms over his chest. “If you aren't going to set her aside on your own, then I’m afraid the Goschens and I will. After all, I wouldn't want my son with a thief.”

I blink, certain that I’ve misheard. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. We know all about the two artifacts that Hannah so casually plucked from the displays at the exhibitions. Artifacts that are owned by, and very precious to, Cambridge University. It’d be simple for any of us to take that information to the dean, and Hannah would quickly be expelled. Is that what you want for her, son?”

The world tips sideways, and I have to put my hand down on the edge of the fountain again to steady myself. “How...how did you––”

“Like I said. Sacrifices have to be made. Sometimes, even for the people we care about. I’ve given you a chance to do this on your own. Now, let me give you a piece of advice.”

“I don't want it.”

He ignores me. “It’s time to grow up. You will love Astrid in time. But you have to be a man about this. If you tell Hannah yourself, she's less likely to hate you. If this news comes from someone else? Well, that's something you'll have to contend with. If Hannah makes a huge public deal about the split, then we might have no choice but to reveal her…mistakes to save your and Astrid’s reputation.”

“This is blackmail, Dad. You’re blackmailing me into ending things with her!”

Dad’s gaze is steady, but there’s a sadness in his eyes. “I’m helping you do the right thing. Whether you like it or not.”

I stagger backward, a wicked headache blooming in my skull as I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. I think of those damned artifacts, wrapped in cloth in my bedside table drawer, waiting for the moment I figure out how to return them without drawing any sort of suspicion. “How in the hell did you find out about this?”

“Astrid knew about Hannah’s thefts and told her father.” His tone turns sour. “And he dangled it over my head the moment Astrid found out about your time together.”

I can't think of anything other than the fact that Astrid's name keeps cropping up, and I can feel my rage toward her begin to build. “So Hannah is a pawn in all this, too. I can't believe this.”

“That is precisely why we can't have this continue, Johan. If you don't want those thefts traced back to her, it's in all our best interests if it ends now.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, pressing my hand even harder against my forehead, trying to ease the oncoming ache. “She’s…she's not a bad person, Dad. Hannah didn't take those things for money or for the thrill of it. She has a mental issue. An illness.”

Dad shakes his head. “We've all got our problems. I’m sure Hannah is brilliant, but she is also a liability. For the sake of our family and for hers, this needs to end.”

“Fuck….” The word is bitter and dry in my mouth. They all have me backed into a corner, and my dad knows me too damned well. I'd rather break Hannah's heart, and mine in the process, if it means she won’t lose her place at the university she's wanted to attend for her entire life. Or even worse, her secret kleptomania being revealed to the world. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.”

“Then end things. As soon as possible. If it's not handled within the next few days, then Astrid and her dad will make sure the Dean knows, and she’ll be sent back to the Netherlands.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath. “I can't fucking believe this. This is absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to end things with her? We just got together.”

Dad sighs heavily, but he’s growing impatient. I can see it in the way he’s shifting his weight and the way his face is flushed red. “Figure it out. You always do.”

“And then what?” my voice cracks, and I can't help the emotion that seeps through. “What do I do after this if you and her dad are taking everything away from me?”

Dad’s anger dissipates. The lines on his face soften a bit as he reaches out to put his hand on my arm. I don't fight him. “Choose Astrid. Don’t let that Dutch girl ruin your future.”

That Dutch girl is everything , I think, but saying the words out loud is pointless. “Leave Hannah…and then I assume I have to propose to Astrid on some asinine schedule?”

“That’d be the honorable thing to do.” Despite his answer, his tone remains serious and guarded. “This is much bigger than both of us. The Goschens are a powerful family, and if you don’t fall into line, they will destroy us, our legacy. Do you want that?”

“No.”

“Then do what's right.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Fine. Get out of here. I need a moment alone, and I’ve got a lot of work to do if this is going to be handled by tonight.”

“Good. And remember—marrying Astrid won’t be nearly as horrible as you believe, son. You two were a good match. You might not have been in love, but you two were happy. In the long run, I think you will see that this was the right thing to do all along.”

I stand an arm, showing him the door. “Just get out of here!”

He claps me once more on the shoulder and then heads back into the home, leaving me reeling.

I have no idea how to do this. None.

I pull out my phone and consider calling Hannah, but I know she won’t answer if she’s in class. I open my messaging app and see that she left a text right after I messaged her this morning.

Hannah: Gm! Ouch. That sucks. Is everything okay with your dad? Let me know! X

I try to text her, composing message after message, but I just can’t bear to send them. Breaking things off with her feels impossible. I...I just can't. Not yet, at least. I need to let the storm inside of me settle. So, for now, I need to confront Astrid.

The thought of her brings on a fresh wave of fury. How could she do this? Sure, I should have been more honest with her, should have made the break between us clean. And I should have done it weeks ago.

But what right does she have to interfere in my life now? To use the one thing I’ve kept hidden from her against me like this? I’ve never known her to be cruel and vindictive, but apparently, I haven’t known her very well at all.

The message I write to Astrid is short and to the point. If she's been part of orchestrating this entire mess, then I’m sure she’s aware my dad is confronting me today. No reason to be vague or sugarcoat things when she’s the mastermind behind it all.

Johan: I’m heading back to campus. Talk to you when I get there.

There. Short, sweet, and to the point. I can't muster any of the politeness I’ve used over the months, either. If she's going to resort to using secrets against me, then fuck it.

After a few minutes of processing everything that has just happened, I head straight to my car, avoiding entering the house altogether. I spend the drive silently fuming. By the time I’m back at my apartment, there are two missed calls from Astrid and a couple of texts.

Astrid: Of course. I’ll come by whenever you get here.

Behind my apartment building, there is a small, slightly overgrown seating area. Vines wind around the legs of the sun-bleached wooden benches. It’s clear that the area isn't used much, and the groundskeeper doesn’t give the random spot of benches much attention, if any. Which is why it's the perfect place to confront Astrid.

Clearly, neither one of us wants to air whatever is going to happen within the walls of the apartment. In the past, Astrid and I were careful to keep our private arguments quiet and tucked away from others. But that was then. And this is now.

Now, I don’t trust her, and the last thing I want is to be left alone in my apartment with her. It will be private enough behind the building. It’s the middle of the school day, and plenty of people are in class. Also…I don't have the time nor the inclination to be concerned about what my neighbors think. Let them gossip. It seems to be the most popular thing to do around here these days.

I messaged Astrid ten minutes ago, so when I arrive I find her already waiting for me, seated on one of the wooden benches. Her camel belted wool coat, perfectly tailored, wraps around her like a stylish shield against the chill. The coat’s soft fabric and classic cut exude sophistication, its rich camel color blending harmoniously with the autumnal hues of the cityscape. Astrid stands when she sees me approaching. Her expression is guarded, and there’s a stiffness to her shoulders that tells me she's bracing herself for this conversation. Good. I’m glad she isn’t looking forward to this. Neither am I.

“Johan,” she says, and then pauses like she doesn’t know what to say next. She jerks slightly like she wants to hug and give me a kiss of greeting like usual, but she thinks better of the idea and settles once more.

“Astrid.” I stop a few feet away and fold my arms over my chest. “Seems we have a lot to talk about.”

“We do,” she agrees, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Starting with the fact you've been cheating on me with my friend.”

I’m immediately incensed, but I don't let it show in my body language. I want to keep this talk calm for as long as possible. “I never cheated on you. We weren't exclusive, and I’ve told you multiple times now that I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Her lip curls up into a sneer. “But you’re sleeping with my friend at the same time that you've been sleeping with me. That's pretty serious, don't you think? You both betrayed me.”

Astrid doesn’t need or deserve to know what is between Hannah and me, not after what she’s done, but I still feel like I must explain myself. “That’s not true. The change in our relationship is very, very recent. And like I told you Thursday evening, you and I were never going to be as serious as you want.”

“I don't see why the hell not.” Her voice wavers and it's clear that there's hurt there. But she has no right to it.

“Because that’s never what I wanted,” I snap back, my patience wearing thin.

Astrid jumps from the bench. “So what do you want, huh? To fuck my friend behind my back? That’s it?” She fixes me with her gaze filled with rage. “You’ve been leading me on. Don’t deny it. You kissed me goodbye on Thursday, and then the next day, you go off and spend the weekend with her!”

She’s right, but even so, my temper flares, and I have to take a steadying breath before I continue. “Look, Astrid. Whether you want to admit it or not, you and I were never going to happen. We aren't compatible, and the only thing that has kept our arrangement going for as long as it has is your persistence. Should I have made a cleaner cut? Yes, fine. You’re right about that, and I’m sorry. But you’re lying to yourself if you think I cheated on you with Hannah. You willingly accepted being friends with benefits.” I take a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. “I should’ve known it was just a tactic to get what you wanted all along.”

She claps her hands over her chest. “And what is that?”

I study her face for an instant. “A marriage proposal, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” she snaps, jabbing a finger at me. “I deserve a damned marriage proposal! You know why? Because we are compatible. You’re a good fit for me and my future. We have the same interests, the sex is good, and our families get along so well! What else could there possibly be?”

A rush of sympathy for Astrid hits me unexpectedly. How can she not know what is missing from her list? “Love, Astrid. Love. Passion. That is what else there should be.”

Astrid throws her hands up in the air. “I do love you. I just never said it because I knew it wasn’t reciprocated.”

I can't believe what I’m hearing, and yet it doesn't surprise me, either. “And you’d settle for someone who doesn't love you? Astrid, really? As angry as I am with you, you deserve better than that. And so do I.”

Her shoulders slump, and the fight drains from her. When she speaks again, her voice is flat. “You don’t love Hannah, and you don’t love me. So what's the problem? We’d have been a great partnership, and you know it.”

I sigh, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “You don't know how I feel about Hannah.”

“No. I guess I don't. Because you've kept all of this a secret and refused to consider my feelings in any of this.” She all but melts back onto the bench, fingers twisting in her coat, eyes downcast. “I liked her, Johan. She was a good friend…I thought. I cared for her, and you took her from me, just like you took yourself away.” She sniffles, her eyes watering, and she looks up at the sky, trying to prevent the tears from falling. “I can never speak to her again without remembering the two of you pawing all over each other in the rain like that night.”

Now, I’m the one taken aback. “You saw that?”

“I did. On my way back home.”

My throat closes up, and I take a seat beside Astrid, slowly, warily. She's not done, and I’m not quite sure what she'll say, but I have a feeling it's not going to be pleasant.

Sitting beside her, she turns to face me, her expression laced with a sadness I’ve never seen before. “How can you care so deeply for someone you just met but have no room for me at all?”

I try to form an answer, but nothing comes. I can't tell her the truth, not without making things a million times worse. How could I ever explain to her that I’ve wanted Hannah forever, that she’s held a place inside of me for years?

“Tell me the truth,” she insists, her eyes almost pleading. When I don’t answer, she keeps insisting. “Johan, I need to know the truth.”

“I’ve known Hannah for years. It’s just…” I swallow the lump past my throat, the words too hard to come out. “Back then, she was only Elise’s little sister….” A flashback of our time at the horse show together fills my mind, and I can’t help but smile at it. “I saw her again two years ago, and things took a different turn, but she was too young, and nothing ever happened.” I force myself to look at Astrid despite hating the hurt I see in her gaze. “I never thought she’d come back into my life. Maybe a part of me did, but––”

“But she did come back,” Astrid interposes, a tear streaming down her cheek. “She came back into your life, and you both kept it a secret from me.”

I rub my hand across my brow, wishing I could wake up from this nightmare. But this isn’t a bad dream, and the reality is that Astrid has now heard the whole truth.

“Maybe, but you are forcing my hand by using Hannah’s kleptomania as a bargaining chip, so you aren't a saint either.

She shakes her head. “Not like that. God, Johan. Can’t you see she’s the bad guy in all of this? My family is being so damned generous, and you’re blind to it.”

I snort, but there is zero amusement in me. “Generous? Astrid, be serious.”

“We are! We’ll save Hannah’s chance to be a student here. She committed two huge crimes, and my father and I are willing to let it go and delete the video taps. We're offering to cover up her crimes and let your dad’s debts go; all we want in return is for you to take this relationship between us seriously.”

I can't even look at her. She’s a complete stranger to me now. “And if I don’t?”

She shrugs casually, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “Then, her kleptomania will go public, and her acceptance to Cambridge will be revoked. Hannah is a smart girl—surely she knows the risks of what she's done. If she has to suffer the consequences, then so be it.”

“And you?” I snap, gritting my teeth. “Don’t you have to suffer the consequences, too? Aren’t there any repercussions for blackmailing me and my family? Or are you content to ruin lives to get what you want?”

She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin, giving me a haughty glare. “You and Hannah made poor choices, and that's on both of you.”

“Hannah never meant any harm.”

“Stop defending her, Johan! What’s wrong with you? She is a thief!”

“Don’t you dare,” I growl, getting to my feet. “You have no right to judge her for anything. She stole two things, sure, but when I confronted her, she gave them to me. They're upstairs right now. No one has been hurt by her actions except you and your damn pride!”

“Johan.” Astrid stands as well and reaches out toward me, but I take a step back. “There is no way this thing with Hannah will work. My father's connections will make sure of it. You’re not going to be able to help her.”

“Astrid, just let it go.” If she asks me to beg, I will do it. Anything to make things right. “Call your dad off. Please. We can both be happy with other people.”

She doesn't respond. She just turns her face away and then folds her hands in front of her. “You should’ve thought about it before hurting me.”

I tilt my head to the sky, closing my eyes, my skull full to bursting with a painful headache and unnameable grief. I can’t escape this. Astrid has me cornered. “This isn't like you. I know it isn’t.”

She goes to sit on the bench, her eyes locking on mine as she leans back. “You’d be surprised how pain can change people.”

“Your dad,” I grit out, then I sit beside her, facing her fully. “He's behind this, but you can stop it. All you have to do is say the word.”

“Stop trying to pin the blame on him. He just wants me to be happy.”

“Astrid, look?—”

She stands again abruptly, taking a few steps away from me. “We’re done here.” Her voice’s thick and final. Then, bizarrely, she laughs, and there's an edge of madness to it. Like she can't really believe this is all happening, even if she is the aggressor. She turns to face me, and since she’s standing, I leave the bunch to meet her. “You know, I knew something was up, but I just couldn't figure out who had caught your eye. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be my new friend Hannah—the same friend who stole from my show's collection. The two of you deserve each other, really, as cruel as you both are. But she's not going to get you.” Astrid had been looking away, but now her eyes snap back to mine. “I am.”

“Astrid—” I step forward but pause, not knowing what to do. “Don’t?—”

“Here's what we're going to do,” she cuts me off, and the crazed tone to her voice has abated, leaving behind only resignation. “We're going to get engaged. It’s going to be huge news, and everyone is going to congratulate me. If you behave and play your part, we'll continue the engagement, and you can thank your lucky stars that I’m even giving you a second chance. If you don't behave, I’ll be the one to publicly break off the engagement and tell everyone the truth about Hannah, the home-wrecker and thief. Not only will she get expelled, but having a little affair with a fresher will cost you your job and academic future. Do you understand?”

I feel hollow, empty, and devastated. It’s like everything I’ve worked for has just been torn from my hands, leaving me grasping for air. I almost fall back on the bench as I sit, my head resting between my hands. There is no escape. It is a lose-lose situation, no matter which way I look at it.

“I do.”

“Good.” She stands a few feet from me, her expression stern. “I'll expect a ring next week or so, and after that, there will be a party.”

“Astrid…please….” When I see her turning on her heels, I stand up, reach out, and catch her wrist.

But she jerks her arm free from my hold. “This is your fault, Johan. Not mine. Stop begging me to stop when it was you who started all of this.”

“Can't you forgive Hannah? You've forgiven worse. She values your friendship so much.”

“I can’t, no,” she snaps before pointing a finger at me. “I’m giving you one last chance, and if you blow it, I will destroy you both.”

Her eyes are filled with rage and hurt. There is nothing left to say. Nothing else to argue. She leaves, striding out of our discussion, and all I can do is accept it. Astrid and her father have won, and I am the loser.