Page 24 of Hannah.
I try to make my way through the crowd, hoping for a moment alone with Astrid, but instead, she intercepts me with a sweet smile. She grabs my upper arm gently, and before I can ask her for a second alone, she’s taking control of the conversation.
“Johan, love,” she says, her tone soft but insistent, “We need to get ready for the croquet game.”
“Actually, I was hoping I could have a moment alone with?—”
She waves her hand dismissively. “We’ll catch up later, I promise.”
I manage a nod, masking my disappointment with a forced grin. Astrid walks away, already talking to the rest of the guests. Her bright voice blends with the lively ambiance, leaving me standing at a distance.
Croquet, then. I’ve never been less interested, but I’ve got to partake for appearance's sake.
The croquet game unfolds under the gentle sun, the click of mallets against balls creating a rhythmic soundtrack to our gathering. Astrid plays the perfect hostess, setting the rules with an air of authority. Meanwhile, Conrad, oozing charm, positions himself next to Hannah, explaining the game with animated gestures. His touch on her mallet, the way he leans in to share tips, feels like a punch to my gut, but I can't let it show.
Hannah, her determination etched on her face, absorbs Conrad's advice like it's gospel. Gripping the mallet as if her life depends on it, she navigates the wickets with a fierce focus, her eyes lit up with concentration. I observe, my annoyance growing, as Conrad hovers around her, his enthusiasm contagious, his laughter infectious.
Jackie and Eduard are fully immersed in the game, interjecting with banter and encouragement, unaware of anyunderlying issues. Hell, no one even knows there's an issue at all besides me! Even Hannah seems unbothered by my presence, leaving me the only person with any problem…and a secret one, at that.
Outwardly, we all seem to be enjoying the friendly competition, but beneath the surface, I’m pissed. Conrad expertly guides Hannah through the game, staying close to her side. She’s supposed to be a stranger to me, at least in the eyes of everyone here, so this should be fine, shouldn’t it? Yet, I feel some invisible claim on her, and because of it, I can’t stop the feeling of betrayal simmering in my stomach.
Hannah, blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, throws me a fleeting smile and turns her attention back to the game. Conrad's eyes meet mine briefly, winking at me and nodding his head towards Hannah as if it indicates how he has her attention. If it were any other girl, I’d be happy for him, but Hannah…I clench my mallet, my muscles tight with frustration, my composure teetering on the edge.
I play along, laughing when necessary and engaging in the game, but inside, I’m seething with jealousy. I wish I could confront Conrad and tell him to back off, but I’m trapped by social norms and the fact that no one even knows that Hannah and I have known each other for years.
I watch as Conrad and Hannah exchange glances loaded with meaning, a connection that goes beyond the game. It’s a flirtatious dance, and I’m left on the sidelines, torn between the urge to intervene and the fear of revealing too much.
I force myself to concentrate on the game, my movements precise but strained. Every shared smile between the two of them intensifies my frustration. As the game drags on, I find myself yearning for it to end, desperate for an excuse to escape this emotional minefield. I’m unraveling, my patience wearing thin with every passing moment.
Between the muffled clicks and clacks of the mallets on the balls and the sound of birdsong from the forest in the distance, Conrad eventually makes his way next to me. Still in the dark about what is wrong with me, he lets out a low whistle of appreciation, his gaze fixed on Hannah across the grass.
“You didn’t tell me Astrid had such a cute new friend,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “She’s going to be trouble, that one. But it’s a good thing that I like trouble.”
I shoot him a glare, unable to match his humor. “Well, you tend to hit on anyone with a pulse, so I didn’t think much of it,” I quip back, sarcasm cutting through the air.
Conrad, seemingly unfazed by my retort, smirks. “What’s her last name again? I don’t think she mentioned it.”
My muscles tense, a surge of alarm coursing through me. If he discovers her last name, the connection to Elise van den Bosch won’t be far behind. The identity of my ex-crush will likely be the thing that reveals my secret connection to Hannah, and the longer I can keep it from happening, the better. I have to throw Conrad off the scent.
“Why do you even care?” I ask, trying to sound normal despite my growing unease.
“Just curious.” His tone is too casual for comfort.
I feign indifference, shrugging as I line up my next shot. “Can't remember,” I tell him, sounding deliberately vague, and hoping to divert his attention elsewhere.
Meanwhile, my eyes stray toward Hannah, her focused expression as she absorbs the intricacies of croquet. Each stolen moment between her and Conrad heightens my discomfort. It’s as if something precious is slipping away, out of my grasp. It’s her…she’sthe precious thing. I watch Hannah as she throws her dark hair behind her and rolls her shoulders, releasing the tension from being bent over taking her shot.
Astrid's voice slices through the chatter, dragging Conrad away from me. That momentary freedom lets me step closer to Hannah, who stands a bit apart from the group. It’s an impulsive move; trying to talk to her among all these other people is risky, but fuck it. I want to talk to her, so I will.
Acting like I’m doing something with my mallet as I sidle up next to her, I lean slightly towards her so only she can hear me as I ask, “Are you planning to ignore me all weekend?”
“I'll ignore you for as long as I want,” she retorts, her tone firm.
“Is this because I didn’t text you back when you arrived in Cambridge?” Standing straight, I look at her now.
A tense pause fills the space between us. I can practically feel her thoughts churning, her silence telling me more than words ever could. The truth stings, but I can't deny it. Yes, that is at least one reason why she’s ignoring me. I’ve regretted not answering that text a hundred times since I received it, but what else can I do now?
Finally, she answers. “I did expect you to be more hospitable, but I guess hospitality isn’t owed.” She presses her lips tightly, looking up to the blue sky, where fat white clouds float by. Then, meeting my eyes for an instant, she proceeds. “Don’t worry. Other people picked up where you left off. Astrid has been wonderful. Even your friend Conrad has been great. So I guess it isn’t the worst thing in the world that you couldn’t be bothered to say anything back.”
I scowl, knowing that she’s hiding genuine hurt with sarcasm. But I’ll let her have her little vent session. We don’t have time to discuss my lack of contact with her and what it really means. But there is something I need to address, and her bringing up my friend gives me the perfect opportunity to do so.