Page 44 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Hannah

I’m jolted awake by the insistent buzzing of my phone on the nightstand. Squinting at the screen, I see Johan’s name flashing, and anxiety tightens my chest as I answer.

“Hey, baby, how are you?” I try to sound calm, but my voice betrays my concern.

“Not well. I just had a huge fight with my dad,” he says, his voice heavy with frustration.

I sit up immediately, my heart pounding in my chest. “What kind of fight?”

Johan heaves a long sigh, laced with frustration. “He wants me to spend the week with Astrid.”

“What?” The word escapes me in a gasp, the shock making it hard to breathe. I try to process what he’s saying, my mind struggling to catch up.

“He’s messed up. I told him I was going to the Alps with Conrad as a cover-up to visit you, but he said I have to spend the week with her instead.”

“Or else what?” I ask in apprehension.

“Or else he'll tell her and her dad the truth about my whereabouts. He knows I spent Christmas with you.”

Tears well up in my eyes, my mind racing with the implications. While Johan managed to escape her tonight, the threat of him being forced to have sex with Astrid looms heavily over us. I clutch the phone tightly, my knuckles turning white.

“Hannah, are you there?”

“Yes,” I breathe, struggling to keep my voice steady. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm thinking of poisoning that bitch once and for all,” he replies, pain and anger clear in his voice.

A shiver runs down my spine. “You'll be caught, don’t,” I respond, fear spiking through me. “The last thing I want is to see you behind bars for murder.”

I try to think of a solution, my mind grasping at straws. “If your dad tells Astrid and Ludovic about us, they'll tell the Dean what I did, get me expelled, and you won't go on the expedition. Ludovic will keep stealing artifacts, and my aunt will never have justice.”

“I know, but is it really worth it to keep up with the plan? What about us?” Johan asks, desperation creeping into his tone.

I bite my lip, feeling the weight of our predicament crushing me, but we need a way out. “What if she gets food poisoning? Is there a way for her to eat contaminated food and just get sick for a few days?” I suggest, my voice trembling with the enormity of what I’m implying.

There’s a long pause on the other end. I can almost hear Johan’s mind working through the possibilities.

“That’s fucking crazy, but I love it.” He pauses, pondering a bit further.

“I have no idea how to make it happen, though. It’s the staff who buys the food and cooks.

” I can hear the mix of resignation and despair in his voice which crushes me even more.

I sigh deeply, the weight of our situation pressing down on me like a physical burden.

There’s no way he will manage to leave for Oman without spending a few nights with her.

“Whatever you do, I’ll forgive you.” I can’t stop the tears streaming down my cheeks, and I sniff back.

“I know you have done everything in your power to prevent it.”

“Hannah, I love you, but I hate this. I hate everything that is happening to us.”

“We’ll get through this,” I assure him, my voice breaking. “I love you, too.”

Johan sucks in a breath, and I can hear the emotion in his voice. “Oh, baby. You’ve no idea how much those three little words mean to me. Thank you for saying it.”

“I miss you,” I whisper, feeling the overwhelming distance between us. “Don't forget me.”

“I could never,” he replies, his voice filled with resolve.

We linger on the line for a few more moments, the silence heavy with unspoken fears and unfulfilled desires. Finally, I force myself to say goodbye and hang up, the darkness of my room feeling even more oppressive.

I lie back down, staring at the ceiling.

Hatred for Astrid churns in my gut, making sleep impossible.

Images of her and Johan together plague my mind, each one more painful than the last. I toss and turn, unable to escape the torment, feeling the weight of our situation pressing down on me from all sides.

The rest of the night is a sleepless blur, my mind consumed by a mix of dread and helplessness. Every time I close my eyes, I see Johan’s face, hear his voice, and feel the crushing reality of our circumstances. The tears continue to flow, my heart breaking a little more with each passing minute.

I wake up and check the clock—1 p.m.. January first. I didn’t sleep at all last night, the thoughts of Johan and his fiancée swirling through my mind. I should have seen this coming, should have known better. But my heart blinded me, and now I’m facing the harsh truth of it all.

Elise’s words echo in my head—her calling me a mistress, mocking me for being with an engaged man. Deep down, I knew she was right. I simply didn’t want to admit it, the truth too bitter to swallow.

I drag myself out of bed and shuffle to the kitchen.

As I enter, I see Aunt Amelia sitting at the table, a serene presence in the morning chaos.

She’s perched on a wooden chair, a thick diary open in front of her as she writes with deliberate strokes.

A mug of steaming tea sits nearby, the soothing aroma mingling with the scent of fresh ink.

Her brow furrows slightly in concentration, but when she notices me, she looks up with a playful smile.

“Look who finally decided to wake up,” she teases, setting her pen down beside the diary.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, trying to muster a smile. But it’s weak, and I know she can see right through it.

Her smile fades, replaced by concern. “What’s going on, love?”

“Just a hangover,” I lie, busying myself with making an Americano.

As I fumble with the coffee machine, Amelia stands up and walks towards me. She stops by my side, her presence a comforting weight. “Hannah, I know the difference between a hangover and a heartbreak.”

The tears well up before I can stop them. I take a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but it’s no use. I fall into her arms, finding a small measure of comfort in her embrace.

“Oh, Hannah…” She strokes my hair, her voice soft and understanding. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. I know it’s hard, but that’s the price to pay for being in love with a taken man.”

“Except he was forced into that engagement,” I say, my voice cracking.

“I know, love, I know. Soon enough, he will break it off, and you two will be together.” Amelia pulls back, looking me in the eyes. “I understand how hard it is. I went through this pain too. But at least you know the truth—you know he loves you and intends to break it off.”

I take a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. I wipe my tears and look at her, a question burning in my mind. “Speaking of which, can I ask you something private?”

“Of course, dear.”

I pause for a moment, pondering how to articulate this sensitive topic. “Why did you get into an affair with Ludovic knowing he was married?”

Amelia’s face registers shock and surprise.

She nods, reflecting on my words. “Well, that is a great question,” she says slowly.

“I guess it just happened.” She cuts eye contact for a second, her lips curving upwards as she recalls those memories.

“We were working together and had great chemistry, and I let myself indulge in the fantasy.” She pauses, gauging my reaction.

“I was working so hard that the only man I’d spend time with was him.

I... I never thought I’d fall in love. At first, it was just sex, and then the more time we’d spend together, the more it felt like a true relationship.

” She exhales loudly, her expression more somber than before.

“But I knew he’d never leave Nina. I was under no illusion.

But it still hurts. The heart is stubborn. ”

Her words resonate with me. I nod, understanding the complexity of it all, even if it doesn’t make the pain any less.

“I just... I just don’t know what to do,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.

“Take it one day at a time,” she advises gently. “Focus on what you can control. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”

I hug her again, grateful for her support. Maybe things will get better. Maybe Johan and I will find our way back to each other. But for now, I just have to get through today.

After a few more moments in Aunt Amelia’s comforting embrace, I pull away and muster a weak smile of gratitude. “Thanks, Auntie.”

“Anytime,” she replies, her eyes filled with understanding and concern.

I head back upstairs to the bathroom. The hot shower feels like a temporary escape, washing away the remnants of last night’s emotional turmoil. I try to clear my mind, but the thoughts of Johan and his fiancée, Astrid, keep creeping back in.

After getting ready, I unplug my phone from the charger on my nightstand. The screen lights up with two missed calls from Johan and a text message.

While I have to spend the week with Astrid, I'm free for the next one. Let's get together. X

The confirmation that Johan is spending the week with Astrid feels like a punch in the gut.

My first impulse is to throw the phone against the wall, but I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me.

Instead, I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the message, feeling the weight of reality pressing down on me.

With a mix of frustration and resignation, I type out a response. Where? Here or in the UK?

I send the text and then place the phone down beside me, knowing that despite his good intentions, it might be almost impossible for him to come back. Doubts swirl in my mind, and the pain of the situation feels almost unbearable.

I sit there for a moment, the silence of the room pressing in around me. How did I get here? How did I let myself fall so deeply for someone I can’t fully have? The questions are relentless, but there are no easy answers.

I start getting dressed, pulling on my favorite sweater and jeans, when my phone buzzes again with a message from Johan: Wanna go to St. Moritz on the 8?