Page 104 of Hannah.

Finally, light peeks through the curtains. My eyes are swollen, and my head is pounding. For a brief second, as I sit up and the bedsheets pool around my waist, Johan's text from last night comes back to me.

One day, you’ll understand why I did what I did.

Huh. Fat chance of that ever happening.

It doesn’t matter. Last night I blocked his number, and if Johan Bentinck thinks that I am ever unblocking him so he can explain his shitty behavior, he’s got another thing coming.

With a groan, I stumble out of bed and head for the shower. I have to fight off the urge to unblock him a dozen or so times, but I stay strong. It’s not going to hurt any less, and he’s made his choice, and that choice was Astrid.

After scrubbing every inch of me with body wash and washing my hair twice, I feel a little more human—not better, just more alive and present. It’s not a great feeling, but it will have to do. I take my phone with me, realizing I have a message from Conrad:Hey! Are you still up for lunch on Saturday?

Gosh, I had completely forgotten Conrad’s invitation. Well, it’s only lunch, after all. I ponder for a moment, before texting Conrad back with a positive answer but letting him know all I can do is a quick, casual lunch.

Then, I head downstairs to the common room, intent on getting some coffee and food in me. Maybe I'll go for a run later. Or a long walk. Anything to get my mind off things.

My mother's words echo through me. Maybe this is part of growing up. Learning to let go.

So why does it feel like Johan, and my...my love for him, feel stuck inside of me like a thorn I can never remove?

26

Hannah

It’s Monday,and my heart feels like it’s been put through a shredder. I stand outside Johan’s classroom, taking deep breaths, trying to summon the courage to walk inside. My palms are sweaty, and my stomach churns with a mix of dread and heartbreak. I push the door open and slip inside, avoiding eye contact with everyone as I find a seat near the back. The classroom is filled with a low buzz of conversation. Everyone is wondering the same thing: will Johan show up today, or will he continue being absent like last time?

The minutes tick by, each one stretching longer than the last. I try to focus on my notes, but my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The sight of his empty desk at the front is a constant reminder of everything that happened. The memory of his text from last Wednesday—“One day, you’ll understand why I did what I did”—still haunts me. I blocked him right after, unable to handle any more of his cryptic nonsense.

The door finally swings open, and Johan strides in, looking composed and confident as always. My heart clenches at thesight of him. How can he stand there so unaffected while I feel like I’m falling apart?

Class begins, and I try to focus on my notes, but my eyes keep drifting back to him. His voice, once soothing and familiar, now feels like nails on a chalkboard. I can’t stop thinking about that weekend, how tender he was, how he made me feel like I was the only one that mattered. But it was all a lie. I feel foolish, used, and utterly heartbroken.

Johan clears his throat, drawing the class’s attention. “I apologize for my absence last week,” he says, his tone calm and professional. “I took a few days off to work on some projects for my PhD and…to enjoy time with my new fiancée.” He smiles, and the class erupts in cheers.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I want to vomit. The room spins, and I grip the edge of my desk, trying to steady myself. My vision blurs with tears I refuse to let fall. While everyone is cheering, I glare at him, hoping to catch his eye, hoping he’ll see the pain he’s caused. But he doesn’t look at me. It’s like I don’t exist.

I can barely breathe, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. How can I continue attending his class? How can I sit here and pretend like everything is normal when my heart is shattered into a million pieces? The thought of seeing him with Astrid, of hearing about their plans and future, is unbearable. And I can only imagine how they were enjoying their time….

Johan continues with the lesson, his voice a distant hum. I can’t concentrate. My mind is a storm of memories and regrets. I feel trapped, suffocated by the walls closing in around me. Every word he says is a reminder of what I’ve lost, of what will never be.

As the class finally ends, I gather my things, my hands shaking. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face him twice a week, to pretend like I’m okay. Butfor now, all I can do is leave, putting one foot in front of the other, hoping that somehow, someway, I’ll find a way to survive this heartbreak.

It’s been a week since I learned about Astrid and Johan’s engagement and a week since I had the drunken, middle-of-the-night courage to block Johan’s number. I’m struggling, and I’m not embarrassed to admit it.

School has been a nightmare because Johan is everywhere, both in my mind and on campus. Class after class, his presence is a glaring, painful reminder that he chose Astrid. Our time together, which meant so much to me, clearly meant nothing to him.

And Astrid. Kind, perfect, beautiful Astrid doesn't deserve a future husband who has slept with her friend behind her back. But it’s not my place to say anything. Astrid isn't stupid, and she’ll figure out eventually that Johan is a liar.

Even worse is the fact that he hasn’t tried to reach me at all. I haven’t unblocked him, but he could’ve emailed me or messaged me on socials. And he knows where my dorm is. Hell, if he was desperate, he could probably call Elise to get a hold of me.

But Johan isn’t desperate. In fact, it seems he doesn’t care about me at all, which is probably the truth. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be engaged to Astrid.

After the shock wore off, the anger set in. My life feels like it's been put on pause. I’m a spectator in my own life, watching everything unfold and feeling helpless to change it. And there's no one to blame for my own misery except myself.

I knew Johan Bentinck was bad news when he kept up the situationship with Astrid despite giving me attention. Yet, I allowed myself to fall for him, hook, line, and sinker.

I have no one to blame but myself, and it makes me so angry that sometimes it's all I can think about—angry at him for stringing me along, angry at Astrid for being so nice and sweet, and angry at myself for getting involved.

But I’m also exhausted. This heartbreak and anger, this rollercoaster of emotions, has taken everything out of me.