Page 89 of Hannah.
One crisis averted—sort of. Now, I just need to figure out how to explain all this to Hannah.
I toss my phone from hand to hand, trying to decide what to do. I can call her right now and get the shock of it over with. It’d be the right thing to do, the honorable thing to do. But I just fucked her in the back seat of my damned car…how am I supposed to tell her that not only did Astrid probably figure out what is going on, but that I wasn’t totally honest about the status of my relationship with her? At least Astrid’s understanding of that status. I’d been completely done with Astrid for some time now. Probably from the second I saw Hannah at that exhibition, I realized that she wasn’t just the girl that had been haunting my dreams anymore. She was a woman...the most captivating woman I had ever seen, and the crush I had been harboring caught fire and turned into an uncontrollable, all-consuming blaze.
It had burned slowly at first, smoldering and building over time. Now, it's an inferno, and Hannah is the gasoline.
I can’t call her. Not until tomorrow, when I see her in person. Hell, maybe not until after I talk to Astrid. The idea of Astrid getting to Hannah first makes me feel ill.
So...that's the plan, then. I have to get to Astrid first and have this talk, preferably before my first lecture. If I can talk to her first, I can minimize and maybe even control the level of heartbreak that is going to come Hannah’s way. I know the two of them are close….well,wereclose, at least, and one way or another, that friendship is going to be shattered tomorrow.
Swirling the ice in the glass, I start to pace again, bare feet silently wearing an invisible path into the floor. I listen to Astrid’s voicemail again and read her message over and over. She doesn’t explicitly mention Hannah, so is there a possibility that she doesn'tactuallyknow what's going on between Hannah and me? Maybe a friend just saw me on the way out of Cambridge with a woman but wasn’t able to provide a real identity. I rub the stubble on my chin, considering it.
It’s not like I can outright ask her. If she doesn’t know it was Hannah, I’m not about to tell on myself over text and give her the opportunity to storm to Hannah’s dorm in the middle of the night demanding answers. It’s going to be touchy work trying to suss out the truth if Astrid tries to play coy. Really, though, what does it matter? I have to tell her it’s Hannah anyway. I promised Hannah as much...promised her that I’d break things off cleanly with Astrid and do the footwork to make our relationship something official. Something we can share with our family and friends once the dust of it all dies down.
This is a shit show.
With a groan, I slump to the couch, burying my head in my hands.
This isn’t the way I wanted things to go. I’ve been such an idiot. Such a selfish, stupid, self-centered idiot. It’s not like me. Well, it’s not like the me of last summer, that’s for sure. The Johan that Hannah has awakened is a greedy, selfish bastard that wanted her enough to fuck everything else up along the way.
Tossing an ice cube into my mouth, I crush it between my teeth as I refill my glass and drain it. I’m going to need another drink, at least before bed.
Hopefully, it’s strong enough to help me sleep tonight.
24
Johan
It was a restless night,but I still managed to get a few hours of rest. I set my alarm for as late as possible, so when my phone goes off before 9:00 a.m., I’m confused at first and pissed right after that.
Jolting up out of the sheets, I grab the phone off the bedside table and blink to clear my eyes. The name on the screen comes into focus, and when I see it says “Dad”, I quickly let go of whatever annoyance I have and answer his call. He wouldn't call me this early if it wasn't important.
“Hey, Dad,” I say once the line connects. “Everything okay with you and Mom?”
His voice is serious but, to my relief, not distressed. “We’re fine. But I need you to skip whatever you were doing this morning and come home. We have to talk.”
Now I’m sitting up even straighter, raking a hand through my hair as my pulse kicks up. “Dad, I can’t go now; I have a class to teach in an hour.”
“I already called your department head and let them know there was a minor family emergency you had to take care of.”
I swallow, a cold sweat coming over me. “Dad...is it really an emergency? You’re not making much sense, and that’s a big overstep to call my department head if it isn’t.”
Dad sighs. “It isn't an emergency yet. But if we don’t have this conversation, then it might become one. Just come home, and we’ll have a late breakfast and go over everything. You’ll be back to Cambridge right after.”
I’m speechless and just sit in silence for a few moments. Finally, he speaks again.
“I know about you and Hannah’s weekend getaway, Johan. I told you not to bring the girl to Portmeirion, and yet you disobeyed me.”
“Shit.” The word is more a breath than anything, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees and hanging my head.
“Language,” Dad chides.
“Right, sorry.”
“Breakfast. At home. I'll see you soon.”
“On my way.”
He ends the call, and I fall back onto the mattress, squeezing my eyes closed and pinching the bridge of my nose.