Page 23 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Hannah

I sit in class, staring at the board, but the words blur together, my mind wandering miles away.

The air feels heavy, and the faint scent of chalk dust mixes with the winter chill seeping in through the old windows.

The last few days of the semester are always a blur, but this time it's worse. Johan is officially engaged to Astrid, and the thought gnaws at me like a relentless ache. I try to shake it off, focusing on the lecturer's droning voice, but it’s no use. I can’t stop thinking about the mess we’re all in.

My fingers drum on the edge of my computer as I consider my options.

Should I talk to the dean? Confess everything about my kleptomania?

If I expose myself, Astrid will have less power over Johan, at least when it comes to my secret.

It's risky, but it might be worth it. The thought stays with me, heavy and insistent, as the class drags on.

The bell finally rings, jolting me from my reverie.

I gather my things, the rough fabric of my bag brushing against my fingers, and, with a sense of resolve, head toward the administration office, ready to give it a shot.

The corridors are bustling with students eager to leave, their excited chatter bouncing off the walls.

I take a deep breath, the familiar scent of old wood and floor polish filling my lungs as I approach the administration office.

Pushing open the door, I step inside. The secretary looks up from her desk, her curious eyes peering over the rim of her glasses, studying me as I enter.

“Can I help you?” she asks, her voice polite but distant.

“Yes, I need to speak to Dean Pembroke.” My voice wavers slightly despite my effort to keep it steady. I can feel the nerves in my stomach fluttering as I shift my bag on my shoulder. “It’s an important matter.”

She raises an eyebrow, her attention drifting briefly back to the glowing screen in front of her. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Not really,” I admit, forcing myself to stand tall, even as anxiety creeps in. “But it’s urgent.”

As she reaches for the phone, my gaze drifts to the corner of the room—and to my biggest surprise, there he is.

Ludovic Goschen himself, shaking hands with the dean.

The shock hits me like a wave, freezing me in place, and my heart sinks, a cold, heavy weight settling in my chest. It’s clear now.

Johan was right to warn me. Dean Pembroke would never side with me against someone as powerful as Astrid’s dad.

My throat tightens as I turn away, my footsteps silent against the thick carpet, slipping out of the office before they can notice me.

The winter air bites at my cheeks as I step outside, pulling my coat tighter around me.

I make my way to the café where I’m meeting Conrad for lunch.

The warmth inside is a welcome relief, and the rich aroma of coffee and baked goods fills the air, comforting and familiar.

I spot Conrad at a corner table, his expression serious but softening into a smile as he sees me.

“Hey, Hannah,” he says, standing up to give me a quick hug. “How’s it going?”

I shrug, forcing a smile. “You know, the usual end-of-semester chaos. How about you?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Surviving. Barely. I’ve been buried in research papers.”

We sit down, and a waitress comes over to take our orders. I order a cappuccino and a sandwich, while Conrad opts for a black coffee and a croissant. As we wait, we talk about trivial things—the weather, upcoming holiday plans, mutual friends.

“Excited to go back home for Christmas?” Conrad asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I guess,” I reply, staring at the frothy swirl in my cup. “It’ll be good to see family. What about you?”

“Yeah, looking forward to it. Always nice to have a break,” he says, his gaze fixed on me. “But hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

I tense up slightly, setting my cup down. “What is it?”

He hesitates, glancing around the busy café before leaning in a bit closer. “I spoke to Johan. He told me about everything that's been going on.”

My heart skips a beat, and I feel a flush of heat rising in my cheeks. “Everything?”

“Yeah,” Conrad says softly. “About Astrid, and the engagement, and... your situation.”

I look down at my hands, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I never thought Johan would tell my secret to Conrad without asking me first. “I'm sorry, Conrad. I didn’t mean for things to get so complicated.”

He shakes his head. “No, I should be the one apologizing. I tried to date you when you had so much on your plate. That was selfish of me.”

I smile slightly, grateful for his understanding. “We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course,” he replies warmly. “But do you have a plan in place? To deal with Astrid and everything?”

I nod, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yes. Sooner or later, Astrid will get what’s coming to her.”

Conrad leans back, contemplating. “For that to happen, you guys need to weaken her dad’s influence here at Cambridge. He’s a former alumnus and has been financing archaeological excursions for the past twenty years. He’s a major donor.”

I sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

The café’s cozy atmosphere feels stifling, the hum of conversations around us a distant murmur.

“I was about to go and tell the truth to the dean, but he had just had a meeting with Ludovic himself. So yeah, we do have a way to destroy him. But it will take time.”

Conrad’s eyes soften with understanding. “It must be quite hard on you to see Johan with Astrid. How are you coping?”

I fidget with my napkin, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. “I speak to Johan every day, and he promised me he won’t have sex with Astrid.”

Conrad raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. “But it’s still so hard, knowing they’re together, knowing she’s always trying to get closer to him.”

Conrad nods thoughtfully. “Why don’t you invite him over for Christmas?” he suggests, his eyes brightening with the idea.

“What do you mean?” I ask, curiosity piqued.

“Astrid always goes somewhere exotic with her family for Christmas. You can invite Johan to the Netherlands while she’s abroad.”

An idea begins to take shape in my mind, a glimmer of hope cutting through the gloom. If I invite Johan to spend Christmas with Oma, he’ll be far away from Astrid. Oma knows the whole situation and would most likely be okay with it.

“That's brilliant,” I say, feeling a surge of hope. “I'll invite him tonight.”

Conrad smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Good luck, Hannah.”

As I leave the café to head to my next lecture, the wind whips around me, but the thought of seeing Johan, even if it’s just in a classroom setting, brings a slight warmth to my heart. I quicken my pace, eager to see him despite the complicated situation.

The classroom is already filling up when I arrive.

I take my usual seat near the front, trying to focus on the lesson ahead.

Johan is already standing at the front, preparing his notes.

He glances up and catches my eye, giving me a small, almost imperceptible smile.

It’s his last class before Professor Foster returns in January, and knowing that the faculty code of conduct won’t apply to him as a simple PhD student anymore gives me a strange mix of sadness and hope.

Johan begins the lesson, his voice clear and steady, as he delves into the intricacies of Heritage Studies.

“Today, we'll discuss the importance of preserving cultural heritage and the ethical dilemmas that often accompany this field. Heritage is not just about preserving old buildings or artifacts; it’s about maintaining a connection to our past and ensuring it for future generations.”

I try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps drifting. How am I supposed to concentrate when all I can think about is the mess we’re in? Johan’s voice is soothing, yet it only reminds me of how much I want to talk to him, to be with him without the looming shadow of Astrid.

“Consider the case of the Elgin Marbles,” Johan continues, “and the ongoing debate about their rightful home. Are they better preserved in the British Museum, where they are safe and seen by millions, or should they be returned to Greece, where they hold deep cultural significance?”

As he speaks, I watch his gestures, the way his hands move expressively, and the intensity in his eyes when he’s passionate about a topic. I can’t help but admire him, but it also pains me. Knowing he’s so close yet so far because of Astrid and the complications she brings is almost unbearable.

My thoughts spiral. Maybe I should tell him everything today and lay it all out there.

But what if it backfires? What if it pushes him further away?

Johan is bound by the faculty code of conduct now, but once he’s just a PhD student again, things could change.

I cling to that hope, even though it feels fragile.

“The ethical dilemmas in Heritage Studies are complex,” Johan says, snapping me back to the present. “It’s not always clear what the right choice is, but we must strive to respect the cultures and histories we study. Our responsibility is to those who came before us and those who will come after.”

The class nods in agreement, some taking notes diligently.

I jot down a few points mechanically, my mind still racing.

Maybe inviting him for Christmas is the right move.

It would get him away from Astrid and give us some time together.

But would he accept? The thought fills me with a mix of excitement and dread.

Johan wraps up the lecture, his voice softening as he concludes. “This will be my last class with you all. Professor Foster will be back in January to take over. It’s been a pleasure teaching you.”

A pang of sadness hits me, but I remind myself that this change might actually work in our favor. As the students file out, I linger at my desk, pretending to pack up slowly. Once the room is empty, I approach Johan, who is gathering his materials.

“Johan,” I say softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looks up, his expression softening when he sees me. “Miss Hannah, what can I do for you?”

I glance around, making sure we are the only two left in the room. “I wanted to invite you to spend Christmas with me and my family in the Netherlands,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. “You could go back home on the 26th so that you wouldn’t miss too much time with your family.”

Johan looks surprised, then hesitant. “I don’t want to be a burden, Hannah.”

“You wouldn’t be,” I insist, keeping my tone firm but reassuring. “It’d be great to have you there. And it’s only for a few days.”

He pauses, mulling it over. “Let me think about it. I’ll give you an answer by Friday. Does that work for you?”

“Of course, that works fine.” I take a breath, shifting the conversation. “So, how did dinner with the ambassador go?”

A smile spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up. “It went well. We might get the permits to start in January. Things are looking very promising.”

“That’s fantastic news,” I reply, genuinely happy for him.

“Yes, it is.” His expression brightens with optimism.

We linger for a moment in a comfortable silence, a newfound sense of connection hanging between us. It feels stronger than before, a quiet reassurance that things might finally be falling into place. Hope stirs within me, faint but present.

“Well, I’ll see you soon.” I offer him a small, warm smile before turning to leave.

“Take care, Hannah,” he replies, his voice carrying a warmth that stays with me.

As I step out of the classroom and into the cold air, it feels less biting somehow, as though the promise of change has made everything a bit lighter.

The hope that Johan might join me for Christmas fills me with a new sense of determination.

Perhaps this holiday season will be the turning point we all need.