Page 23 of Hannah.
Time feels like it slows down as our eyes meet. Surprise flickers across her eyes, mirroring my astonishment. Astrid, ever perceptive, gives me a quick hug and a kiss, introducing us. “Johan, remember Hannah? She was at your exposition last Saturday.”
“I do, yes. Hannah, how are you doing?" I manage to sound composed, though inside, I’m anything but. Damn. I should have expected her to be here. How has this caught me by surprise?
Encountering Hannah again is like stumbling upon a long-lost chapter of my life. It felt like this when I saw her the other day, but the effect is even more intense here in broad daylight. Memories of our past interactions flood back—late-night conversations, shared smiles, Hannah laughing under the sun just like this at the horse show, and moments that hinted at something more. Her grandmother’s office and a teen on the cusp of womanhood that I had no business being alone with. The intensity of my past feelings for her collides with the fact that Astrid is right fucking here.
I really, really am in hell.
As we exchange pleasantries, my eyes involuntarily linger on Hannah. I catch the subtle shifts in her expressions, the surprise mirrored in her gaze. We engage in polite conversation, but there’s an unspoken tension underneath. The pre-brunch drink hour continues around us, but in that moment, it feels like Hannah and I are suspended in time, caught in the delicate balance between the past and the present.
“Ahem,” Conrad, ever the instigator, clears his throat, prodding Astrid into action.
“Oh, how silly of me. Hannah, meet Conrad,” Astrid motions towards him. He’s casually propped against the terrace railing, looking utterly relaxed, but his eyes tell a different story–sharp, observant, sizing up the situation. “His family happens to be one of the top donors at St. Catharine's College. Conrad, this is Hannah, a fresher diving into the wonders of the Art History program.” Astrid grins at Conrad, planting her hands on her hips. “And, just so you know, she’s an enthusiast of my odd curiosities exposition. Shelovedit and didn’t find it weird at all.”
Conrad's lips curl into a playful smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, someone intrigued by freaky little oddities? No wonder you two hit it off.”
His tone, though light, carries a subtle edge of curiosity. I study Conrad, and his nonchalant confidence makes me feel on edge. Which makes no sense. This is myfriend, someone I just trusted to give me relationship advice. What is going on with me?
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Conrad,” Hannah tells him, amused. She holds out her hand to him, and of course, he doesn’t shake it. Instead, Conrad takes her hand gingerly and kisses the back of it, bowing over her hand like the perfect gentleman.
Oh, I hate that. But there isn’t any way I can complain.
Hannah, ever composed, responds with a demure smile. That annoys me, too. What she’s showing the world right now is who she thinks she’s supposed to be–Hannah van den Bosch, classy, well put together, and socially smooth. There’s little hint of who she really is–her humor, her wit, and everything else that is so unique about her.
“Now that we’re done with introductions,” Nina says, “how about we all sit and get some food?”
Astrid leads the way, gracefully choosing a spot at the long, sun-kissed table. As is expected of me, I sit next to her, and watch like a hawk to see who Hannah sits with. I restrain a groan when I see Conrad pull out a chair for her before settling down into his own. The staff, dressed in crisp uniforms, swoop in, serving brunch with practiced finesse. Plates clink softly against the table, platters of charcuterie, eggs, and pastries going down.
I’ve been part of meals like this hundreds of times. Astrid next to me is warm and welcoming, and I feel her hand landing on my knee and upper leg as the brunch goes on, showing me casual affection that I would usually love. Today, though, it seems out of place. There is too much going on inside my head to want to flirt with her. Not with Conrad doing his damned best to flirt with Hannah right across from us.
I find myself stealing glances at Hannah, her poise impressive, considering the unexpected circumstances. She sits with composed elegance, her eyes flitting from person to person, absorbing the atmosphere.
Conrad wastes no time trying to charm her. “So, where are you from, Hannah?” he inquires, his tone playful. “Your accent sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”
Hannah, with her soft Dutch accent, smiles warmly. “I’m from the Netherlands.” Her eyes glance briefly at me.
Conrad leans closer to her, bracing his elbow on the table and holding his chin in his hand, their bodies just inches apart. “And how are you finding England? Enjoying your studies here?”
Her eyes light up with enthusiasm. “I’m loving it,” she says, her smile infectious. “Everyone's been so friendly and polite. It’s quite different from back home.”
“Oh, it's your first time here, then?” Conrad's eyes gleam with curiosity. He puts on a good show; I have to give him that.
Hannah hesitates for a moment, her gaze flickering toward me again before replying, “Not exactly. I visited once before, two years ago. A short stay.”
My heart feels like it has fallen to my feet. Two years ago, she was here in England with me. Just a moment of eye contact, and there is so much unspoken between us that it might just suffocate me.
Conrad fails to pick up on the undercurrents. He teases her, trying to get a laugh out of Hannah and fully get her attention on him again. “Ah, a brief encounter with England. I hope this time is proving to be more memorable.”
As they chat, I watch, my eyes never leaving her. I notice the way she smiles, the way she engages with Conrad, and how her body language is open and inviting. Conrad, caught up in her aura, reciprocates, and their easy banter is potentially the most frustrating thing I’ve ever witnessed.
Meanwhile, I sit beside Astrid, but my attention is far from our conversation. I feel a pang of jealousy, a tightening in my chest as I witness the growing connection between Hannah and Conrad. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but I see it—the way their eyes meet, the way they laugh together, the natural ease of their conversation. I’m replying to Astrid, listening just enough to keep track of the thread on what she’s talking about but keeping everything as surface-level as possible. I’m too distracted for anything more.
Astrid notices my distraction, too, her gaze shifting between me and Hannah, a flicker of concern in her eyes. I try to hide my emotions, but it's impossible to conceal the turmoil inside me completely. I clench my fists, my jaw tightening, but ultimately swallowing down everything. There’s nothing to be done. I need to get over it.
In the midst of it all, Hannah and Conrad continue their conversation, oblivious to the turmoil they're causing me. Because why should they care? It’s not like I have any hold on Hannah. Bit by bit, I let go of the stress and try to bring myself back into the moment.
As brunch ends, more friends are joining our lively group. Jackie, with her red hair and boundless energy, warmly greets Hannah. Eduard, tall and quick-witted, nods at our newcomer. I stand and shake their hands, welcoming them and quickly catching up. But Conrad remains seated, his gaze fixed on Hannah. Their conversation flows naturally, punctuated by shared smiles and bursts of laughter.
Well…at least they’re both occupied, even if it’s killing me to see. This is as good a chance as any to talk to Astrid; I just have to find some privacy for the two of us. My reaction to Hannah here confirms that I can’t be with Astrid the way she wants. At least not right now…and maybe not ever. I can’t just let her continue in ignorance, though. It’s time to be honest.