Page 17 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)
“Oops.” Ludovic puts his fingers up to his mouth, acting like a little boy caught in gossip.
The crowd laughs at Ludovic’s humor, and my heart tightens painfully. I can barely breathe as I watch Johan and Astrid together, the perfect picture of a happy couple.
“Anyway, to the future bride and groom!”
Then Astrid leans in to kiss Johan, and my heart stutters to a stop as Johan lets her.
The room erupts in cheers as I turn on my heels, unable to watch any longer.
I make my way outside to a quiet part of the garden, my chest tight with emotion.
I find a secluded spot by the fountain, its gentle trickle of water offering a soothing contrast to the muffled noise of the party.
I sit down on the edge of the fountain, the cool stone pressing into my palms, and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
The garden is beautifully lit with soft fairy lights strung through the trees, casting a warm glow over the meticulously manicured lawns and flowerbeds.
The scent of roses and jasmine hangs in the air, a sweet fragrance that should be comforting but only amplifies my turmoil.
Despite wearing a gown and a warm shawl around my shoulders, the chill of November doesn’t go unnoticed, but at this point, I couldn’t care less.
I close my eyes, the image of Johan and Astrid kissing replaying in my mind, each replay tightening the knot in my chest.
After a few minutes, I hear footsteps approaching. I look up to see Conrad making his way toward me, concern etched on his face. He holds a bottle of vodka in his hand, and he gives me a sympathetic smile as he sits down beside me.
“I figured you might need a drink,” he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.
I manage a weak smile. “You read my mind.”
Conrad twists off the cap and takes a swig from the bottle before passing it to me.
The vodka burns as it goes down, but the warmth is a welcome distraction from the ache in my heart.
We sit in silence for a few moments, passing the bottle back and forth, the alcohol slowly loosening the tightness in my chest. I take a few deep breaths, my eyes looking up at the sky to avoid the growing tears from falling.
“Are you okay?” His voice is softer now, more intimate.
I shake my head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. They spill over, sliding down my cheeks. “It’s just been a long night,” I murmur, trying to downplay the depth of my feelings.
Conrad takes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “You don’t have to pretend. I know you have feelings for Johan.”
His words cut through my defenses, and I look away, the truth too painful to face head-on. “It’s complicated. I don’t even know what I feel anymore.”
He nods, letting a few seconds go by before speaking again. “May I ask you something?”
I turn to look at him; his face holds a seriousness that is so foreign to him, and I nod, letting him make his question.
“Since when have you had feelings for him?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“Since my sister, Elise, introduced us,” I admit, my voice trembling. “But now that he’s officially engaged, I feel like I’m losing hope.”
Conrad takes another swig of vodka, then hands the bottle back to me. “If I may say, I think you need to move on. Just like Johan is doing.”
I take a long drink, the vodka burning a path down my throat. “Do you think he’ll ever break up with her?”
Conrad shakes his head gently. “I don’t think so. You’ll be, at best, his lover, his side-chick. Is that what you want?”
His words hit me hard, and I realize with a sinking heart that he’s right. By having sex with Johan last weekend, I’ve become the lover, the side-chick. I can’t let this continue. I wonder if Conrad knows about that weekend and if he’s subtly trying to tell me something.
We continue sharing the bottle, the alcohol making us more relaxed and open.
The night air is cool, and I pull my shawl tighter around me, feeling the weight of the dossier hidden in my backpack.
The mission isn’t over, but for tonight, I allow myself to lean into Conrad’s warmth and the hope that maybe, just maybe, there is a path forward that doesn’t involve heartache.
“I guess you’re right,” I say, my voice slurring slightly. “I need to move on.”
Conrad’s eyes soften, and he gives me a sympathetic smile. “You deserve better, Hannah. You deserve someone who will make you their priority.”
I look at him, the alcohol making me bolder. “Thank you, Conrad. For everything.”
He leans in closer, his hand still on mine, his grip firm and reassuring. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, whatever you need,” he whispers, his voice steady and comforting, his gaze unwavering.
His proximity, his warmth, it all feels so comforting, so right in this moment.
Before I can overthink it, Conrad leans in and closes the small gap between us, pressing his lips on mine.
It’s a gentle, tender kiss, filled with unspoken emotion.
His lips are soft against mine, and for a moment, the world fades away.
Conrad pulls back, his eyes wide with surprise and apology.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have?—”
“Don’t apologize,” I interrupt, my voice soft but firm. “I willingly accepted.”
We sit there for a moment, the air between us charged with new possibilities. His hand goes up on my cheek, his thumb gently caressing my skin. “Johan has no idea what he is losing.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes, the quiet strength in his gaze. It’s a look that promises understanding and patience, something I desperately need right now.
The distant sounds of the party continue, but here, by the fountain, it feels like a different world.
The garden is our sanctuary, a place where I can breathe and begin to piece together my broken heart.
I don’t know what the future holds, but for now, I’m grateful for Conrad’s presence, his support, and the promise of something more.
“Let’s stay here a little longer,” I suggest softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Conrad nods, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “As long as you need, Hannah. I’m here.”
We sit in silence, the gentle sound of the fountain mixing with the distant laughter from the party, finding a sense of peace amid the chaos.