Page 27 of Hannah.
I sit in the chair beside her, feeling her need to talk. “Is something bothering you, though?” I ask gently, shifting towards her. “You seemed off back there.”
Astrid hesitates, her gaze fixed on the sprawling estate below. “It’s just…” she lets her words hang in the air, her tone filled with a sadness that breaks my heart. “Things with Johan aren't going as smoothly as I’d hoped.”
I reach out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I offer, even though her and Johan’s relationship is one of the last things I want to talk about. “I’m here for you if you need me.”
Astrid's voice trembles as she shares her story, her eyes glazed with hurt. She takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself, and begins her tale.
“We were inseparable all summer,” she starts, sounding nostalgic. “Three months of constant togetherness. Mykonos, Saint Tropez, Ibiza, Mallorca, Formentera...you name it, we explored every corner of those places together. It felt like a honeymoon in a way, you know? I fell so deeply in love with him, and it seemed like he felt the same.”
Woah. Hearing her say these things about Johan makes my heart ache. He said that they were strictly casual, but there's nothing casual about this honeymoon-like vacation. I’m furious with him, but I have to put her feelings first. Maybe I can just pretend she’s talking about someone else. Still, I can’t stop thinking about them traveling all summer, lounging on beaches, staying in romantic suites, and Johan still calling her a casual fling.
Astrid's words feel heavy, and I can see the pain etched in her features as she continues, “When we came back to Cambridge, I thought it was the next natural step. That we were official, you know. I started introducing him as my boyfriend, thinking we were on the same page. But now, he suddenly has a problem with it.”
I have a terrible, sinking feeling that I might know the reason behind his hesitation. But I’m certainly not going to tell her that. My sweet friend Astrid is clearly hurt, her hands gesturing, trying to convey the depth of her confusion. “We never had that official conversation, you know? The one where you sit down and say, 'Okay, we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend.' But after everything we shared, I assumed we were there. I assumed he felt the same way. Why wouldn’t I?”
I reach down to grab her hand with mine, offering a supportive presence as she vents her feelings. “But it seems,” she concludes after another long pull of the cigarette, her voice laced with disappointment, "that Mr. Bentinck isn’t ready to commithimself to me. That he wants to remain as friends with benefits for the foreseeable future.”
Once she’s finished, Astrid lets out a sigh, the sound of which is both angry and sad. Clearly, this situation has left her emotionally shaken, and I can't help but empathize with her pain. As her friend, all I want is to help her navigate through this complicated mess, even if I might be playing an unwilling part in it.
A deep melancholy washes over me, but I try not to show it. Though I have harbored a crush on Johan for years, it was nothing compared to the profound connection Astrid shared with him over the summer—even if what Johan and I shared was still significant in its own way. Astrid and Johan spent all summer traveling, having sex, and falling for each other, and I simply can’t stand in the way of that. It stings to see her hurting, her trust in their relationship shattered.
“What are you going to do now?” I inquire softly, my voice gentle, not wanting to add more pressure to her already burdened heart.
She looks up at me, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need time to think, to figure out what I want out of that relationship.”
I squeeze her hand, and Astrid leans her head on my shoulder, finding solace in the comfort of our friendship. “Thank you for checking on me, Hannah,” she murmurs, grateful. “I didn’t mean to ruin your afternoon.”
“You aren’t ruining anything,” I assure her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I came here to be with you. Your happiness means more to me than any party or social gathering.”
She manages a small smile, appreciating my support. “You should go back,” she suggests, her voice gentle. “Mingle with Conrad, Jackie, and Edward. They might wonder where we are.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, concern pulling my mouth down into a frown. I don’t love the idea of leaving her here, knowing how much she’s going through. “I could stay here with you. I don’t mind missing the party.”
Astrid shakes her head, a flicker of determination in her eyes. “No, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want Johan’s thoughtlessness to dictate our evening.”
“Do you want me to tell them you came upstairs to freshen up?”
Her smile is small, but still, it’s something. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
I nod, reluctantly leaving Astrid’s side. As I step out, my mind buzzes with a million different thoughts. Anger simmers beneath the surface, directed at Johan for his callousness and disregard for Astrid’s feelings. Yet, there’s also a conflict within me, a gnawing uncertainty about my own emotions. Despite my frustrations, I can’t help but wonder if my lingering feelings for Johan are coloring my judgment.
But one thing is clear—I’m not about to let Astrid bear this burden alone. If it means confronting Johan and holding him accountable, then so be it. For Astrid’s sake, I’m prepared to face whatever comes our way.
The late afternoon has morphed from a refreshing glass of champagne after a croquet match to a full-blown garden party. I have to maneuver through the crowd, full of people laughing and drinking, before I spot Johan in the distance.
I wait until he meets my eye, cocking my head back towards the house before turning and waiting for him to follow. There is some invisible connection between Johan and me, and I knowwithout even looking that he’s behind me. I’m not sure how, but I do.
After navigating the estate mansion’s twists and turns, I finally find a small, secluded library and enter, waiting for Johan to join me. When he does, he shuts the door behind himself, his face guarded.
“What do you–”
“No, you don’t get to start,” I hiss, pointing an angry finger at him. “Not only did you act like an asshole by ghosting me over text when I first got to Cambridge, but now you’re being a jerk to the woman that you spent an entire summer with?”
Johan’s laugh is bitter. “Oh, I see news spreads fast around here.”
“She loves you, Johan,” I rant, throwing my hands in the air. “Did you know that?”
His eyes shutter, his expression shutting down. “I…knew she had feelings for me, but she never said those exact words out loud.”