Page 107 of Hannah.
It wouldn’t be hard to step around him and continue on my way, but since I don’t want to make a scene, I try to be more diplomatic about it. “Oh! I’m just looking for Professor Johan Bentinck. He teaches one of my classes, and I have a few questions about an important assignment that is due soon. He said we could come and find him if we needed help. Do you happen to know where he is?”
The lie rolls off my tongue as smooth as silk, and the researcher buys it immediately. “Ah, okay. That makes sense. Right this way.”
“Thank you so much.” I follow him down the hallway, and we pass by several offices and open doors. Johan isn’t in any of them, but finally, the faculty leads me around the corner, and we reach a set of large double doors.
The man knocks, and I hear Johan’s familiar voice inside. Even the sound of it has my blood heating. I’ve missed him terribly.
“Yes?” Johan calls from the other side.
“Johan, it’s Lukas. One of your students needs to talk to you. Have you got a minute?”
“Sure, send them in.”
Lukas pushes the door open, and there he is. Johan has his back to us, hunched over his desk, and his lab coat is hanging loosely from his broad shoulders. He doesn’t turn around, and Lukas steps aside, letting me walk in alone.
“Thanks,” I whisper to Lukas, and he nods, but Johan somehow hears the whisper and looks over his shoulder. His expression goes from neutral to equal parts joy and dread. He whips back around so I can’t see his face anymore and addresses Lukas only.
“Actually, I just became very busy. Please escort her out.”
Oh, no. We are not doing this. Not after I’ve had to fight tooth and nail just to have a few words with him. Johan can try to run from me, but I’m not going to let him.
“Please, Lukas,” I speak up, giving him a beseeching look, “Just give us a minute. We’ll be quick, and then I'll leave. I promise.”
Johan’s posture is rigid, but he doesn’t say anything.
I step past Lukas towards Johan, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. “Professor, it's really important. I really need to talk to you.”
He sighs heavily and then turns fully towards us, reluctantly nodding to Lukas. The man looks between the two of us a few times before finally backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.
Now, we're completely and utterly alone. I want to slap him across the face. I want to throw myself into his arms. I just want him, all of him, violence and ecstasy and grief and anything else he has to throw at me. Any piece of Johan is better than being without him.
He speaks first. “Hannah, you shouldn’t be here.”
There’s no reason to go about this gently or to talk ourselves in circles. Not when we both know exactly why I’m here. “I know you got at least one of my messages. You’ve got to cancel the engagement.”
Johan holds up a hand to stop me, but I’m not done. Not by a long shot. “Put your damn hand down! This is absurd, Johan!” My own hands are in fists, balled at my side. “You don’t even love her!”
He shakes his head once, and for the first time, I notice how exhausted he looks. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he looks like he’s lost weight. “Hannah, I can’t have this conversation with you?—”
I’m getting angrier by the second. “Then who will you have it with? Yourself? Astrid, when you’re both old and gray and realize you've lived an entire life without love?”
“I’m doing the right thing,” he insists.
“That’s a lie. You’re telling me a lie straight to my face!” I point at myself for emphasis, chest heaving. “Conrad told me everything about your family’s debt and how Astrid’s dad bought it out in exchange for you marrying her. You aren’t a pawn on a chessboard. You don't have to sacrifice yourself for your father or anyone else.”
“And what? Let my family crumble under unpaid debts? Sell the home estate my family has lived in for six generations?” Johan demands. His eyes, up until now, have been dark and empty, but now there are embers of fury inside of them. Whether he’s furious with me, Astrid, or the shit situation their families have put them in, I’m not sure. “We’re all pawns, Hannah, in some way. You’re just too naive to see it yet.”
I flinch, the words hitting home, but soldier on. “If you need help, then I can help you! My family can buy out your father’s debt instead. Van den Bosch industries is thriving; we have the money?—”
“Money is not the issue anymore.” There’s a world of unsaid things in his gaze, but he doesn’t utter them. “The engagement has nothing to do with the debt, Hannah. I can assure you that’s not why I proposed.”
“So why then?” I demand.
“I can’t tell you,” he says curtly and then picks up a stack of papers on his desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“You can’t––!? Johan, I swear to God!” I reach out and grab the papers right out of his hands, tossing them back on the desk. “You better speak.”
“Damnit, Hannah.” Johan's jaw is clenched, his body coiled tight.