Chapter 13
13
Hannah
It’s an early day for me; stepping out into the rare sunlit morning, I have to squint to see anything. Shifting my backpack to my other shoulder, I hold a hand to my face to shield my eyes and look around, wondering what else to do with my day.
The question is quickly answered when a familiar silhouette approaches through the sea of students heading back to their dorms. It’s Conrad, his hands tucked into his cardigan and a lopsided smile.
“Fancy meeting you here!” he exclaims, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, it’s totally a coincidence that you’re here outside the fresher English classrooms, not because you were seeking me out or anything,” I smirk, a little flattered that he’d have gone out of his way to see me. Astrid or Johan must have leaked my schedule to him.
He narrows his eyes, looking me over. “So are you actually annoyed or…?”
“No, of course not,” I say with a laugh, waving away his worries. “It’s my early day, anyway.”
Conrad's eyes light up with enthusiasm, his dark, unruly hair dancing with the wind. “So you’re free? How about a punt tour? It’s a quintessential Cambridge experience, and trust me, you’re in for a treat.”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “Punt tour? I’ve heard of it, but I’m unsure what it entails.”
Conrad’s grin widens, and he motions toward the riverbank. “Picture this: a flat-bottomed boat, a punt, gliding through the serene river. You sit back, relax, and let the scenery of Cambridge unfold around you.”
I follow his gaze to the punts, the sun dappling the water's surface. “Sounds delightful. Is it like a guided tour?”
Conrad nods, his hands gesturing like a conductor orchestrating the description. “Exactly! You have a punter, the expert guide, propelling the boat with a long pole, and they share fascinating stories about the historic landmarks, colleges, and bridges along the river.”
I find myself drawn into his animated explanation, his excitement contagious. “Sounds great.”
“It does,” Conrad nods, pleased with my understanding. “You get to soak in the beauty of Cambridge from a unique vantage point. It’s a tranquil escape from the hustle and bustle. And I haven’t even mentioned the best part….”
“Which is?”
Conrad leans in like he’s sharing a secret. “You get to experience it all with me .”
"Oh, I should have guessed.” I can’t help but laugh at the unexpected joke. “But in all seriousness, it sounds lovely.”
Exploring Cambridge's charm from the tranquility of a punt feels like a welcome distraction, a respite from all the classes, and my constant, annoying preoccupation with Johan, the man who is forever out of my reach.
After stashing my backpack at my dorm, we head to a punting company where Conrad insists on paying for both of us. He’s such a good sport that I almost forget the edge of annoyance I felt after leaving Astrid’s. Conrad doesn’t deserve my disdain simply for being interested in me while also not being Johan, the only person whose interest I want. I decide to be easy on him for the afternoon, accepting his company rather than using it as a barrier.
As we approach the punt, Conrad extends a hand towards me, his grip firm and reassuring. “Watch your step,” he says, guiding me onto the narrow wooden platform. The punt rocks slightly under our combined weight, and I clutch his hand a bit tighter for balance.
He helps me settle onto one of the cushioned seats in the middle of the punt, ensuring I’m comfortable before letting go. “There you go,” he says with a smile, his eyes briefly meeting mine.
“Thanks,” I reply, feeling a mix of excitement and tranquility as I look around at the serene Cambridge scenery. The river is calm, and the leafy branches of the willow trees dip gracefully into the water, creating a picturesque setting.
Conrad then steps into the punt after me, taking the long pole in his hands as he moves to stand at the front, facing me. He plants the pole firmly into the riverbed and, with a practiced motion, pushes off, and we start to glide smoothly across the water. The sound of the pole slicing through the river and the gentle lapping of water against the wooden sides adds to the peaceful atmosphere.
I let out a sigh of contentment, watching the majestic buildings of Cambridge pass by, their reflections dancing on the water’s surface. “This is perfect,” I murmur, more to myself than to Conrad, but he hears me and smiles.
“Glad you’re enjoying it,” he says, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the river. He looks relaxed, his movements confident and fluid as he navigates us through the gentle currents. The sun casts a warm glow on everything, making the experience feel almost magical.
“So, how's life in Cambridge treating you, Hannah?”
I offer a small smile. “It has its moments, but it’s nice for the most part. How about you?”
Conrad shrugs, expression serene and unbothered. “Oh, you know, the usual academic chaos. It keeps things interesting.”
“What are you studying, by the way? I don’t think I’ve asked you,” I inquire, watching Conrad as he stands in front of me, skillfully maneuvering the long pole through the water.
“I’m doing my MBA,” Conrad replies, a hint of pride in his voice. “I spent a few years dragging out my bachelor's degree, so I only got started on my master’s this year.”
“Oh, and are you gonna work in management or something?” I ask, trying to understand his future plans.
“Yeah, most likely at my family’s trust,” he says, shrugging slightly. His muscles flex with each movement, and I can see the concentration on his face as he navigates us through the tranquil waters.
I decide to lighten the mood a bit. “Who’s your family, by the way? You know about mine, but I know nothing about yours. Are they secret agents or something?” I say with a playful grin.
Conrad chuckles, followed by a shrug. “Oh, just a bunch of barons who enjoy hunting, drinking, and pretending to work between social activities,” he says with a wry smile, though I sense a touch of bitterness behind his words. His eyes briefly meet mine before he looks back to the water, adjusting our course.
As we glide past the majestic buildings of Cambridge, the spires and gothic architecture reflecting in the water, I feel a sense of awe. The willow trees line the banks, their branches dipping into the river, creating a serene and almost magical atmosphere. Students and tourists alike stroll along the cobbled paths, adding to the vibrant yet peaceful ambiance.
Despite his smile, I feel I touched a sensitive subject, and decide not to press on. Instead, I glance around the picturesque surroundings. “And what’s your favorite part of the MBA so far?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation to safer grounds.
He seems to relax a bit. “I’d say the strategic management classes. They’re challenging but incredibly rewarding. Plus, the professors are top-notch,” he says, his voice carrying a bit more enthusiasm as he pushes the pole again, the punt gliding smoothly under his control.
“That sounds interesting,” I reply, genuinely intrigued. “Do you have any particular project or paper you’re working on right now?”
“Actually, yes,” he says, brightening up. “I’m working on a case study about sustainable business practices in family-owned companies. It’s fascinating to see how different generations approach sustainability.” He shifts his weight, the punt rocking gently.
“That does sound fascinating,” I agree, feeling the earlier tension dissipate. “Maybe you could share some of your insights with me sometime. It’s always great to learn new perspectives.”
“I’d like that,” he says, his eyes meeting mine with a sincere smile. “Maybe over coffee sometime?”
“Sure,” I say, returning his smile. “I’d like that too.”
The Thursday afternoon unfolds in the gentle rhythm of the punt, the river meandering beneath. I close my eyes and let the sun warm my face, the buzz of the other tour takers surrounding me.
I crack one eye open when Conrad speaks again. “So tell me, Ms. Hannah, have you let your sister know you’ve been hanging out with her ex and his handsome friend Conrad?”
His question makes me crack a quick laugh. “Ha. No, I haven’t. Elise is busy one hundred percent of the time, and I’m positive she wouldn’t care anyway. She has a serious boyfriend.”
“It’s a small world,” he muses. “What were the chances of you running into each other here? Johan said you befriended Astrid before he even realized you were attending the school.”
“That’s right,” I say, leaning back against the edge of the punt, the sun warming my skin. “Have you been friends long, you and Johan?”
Conrad grins. “Since we were freshers, yes. When I met him, Johan was a bit of a lone wolf, you know? Single, focused on his studies to the point where we called him a boring brainiac. But then he started hanging out with me, and things changed for the better.”
I chuckle, imagining a studious Johan buried in books. “Really? I can’t picture that.”
Conrad nods, “Oh, believe me, he was the quintessential academic. But he had this fire in him, especially for archaeology. The guy could talk your ear off about ancient civilizations.”
The punt glides along the riverbanks, passing by willow trees that dip gracefully into the water. I shift my gaze from the scenery to Conrad, engrossed in his stories.
“He was passionate, but once he met me, he learned how to balance it,” Conrad continues, a small smile pulling at his lips at the nostalgic memories. “Despite his brainy pursuits, he always made time for us. Whether it was late-night chats at the pub or impromptu trips, he was there.”
I mirror his smile, but there’s a sadness inside of me. I realize I’ve missed a chapter of Johan’s life, and as much of my thoughts as he occupies, I don’t know him that well at all. “Sounds like he had a solid routine.”
Conrad agrees, his eyes reflecting fond memories. “Then Astrid appeared on the scene, and it’s been mostly the three of us. But, you know, love has a way of changing things.”
I wince at the mention of love and almost ask Conrad if he thinks that Johan loves Astrid. Of course, I know the truth after their fight and immediate makeup at the party, but something tells me that Johan hasn’t been open with Conrad about his relationship troubles.
The punt glides under an ornate bridge, the sun casting a warm glow on the water. As we navigate the river, I can’t help but wonder if Johan would have committed to Astrid if we had never met.
Conrad notices the shift in my expression. “Hey, don't worry. I’m sure he doesn’t take all of Astrid’s free time. She’ll be able to hang out.”
When I realize he thinks I’m sad because Johan will be taking up a lot of Astrid’s time, I almost snort. Little does Conrad know that Johan has me tied up in knots.
To keep the facade up, I offer a grateful smile, appreciating the reassurance. The tour continues, and Conrad points out landmarks and shares anecdotes about Johan. “Did you know Johan once got lost on the way to a lecture and ended up in the botanical gardens? Classic Johan.”
I chuckle, finding myself more engaged in the conversation than I expected. “Really? I can’t imagine him lost.”
Conrad grins. “Oh, he has his moments. But it’s part of what makes him, well, Johan.”
We pass under picturesque bridges, the rhythmic swish of the punt's pole providing a soothing soundtrack. Conrad’s easy banter lightens the atmosphere, and for a moment, I forget all the drama of my life waiting on the shore.
The sights along the riverbanks capture my attention. Conrad’s descriptions add color to the scenes, and I find myself appreciating the beauty of Cambridge in a new light. We view lush greenery, historic architecture, and the occasional quirkiness of student life.
Couples, friend groups, and single students all live full, meaningful lives, and here I am, worrying about my friend’s boyfriend. Ugh. I’d do anything to be able to move on.
Should I move on, or should I keep him for myself? As soon as it pops in my mind, I shake my head to dispel the idea.
As the punt tour comes to an end, I realize Conrad has successfully offered me at least a brief break from the stressors of my everyday life. I thank him genuinely, grateful for the temporary escape. I guess it was inevitable that the subject of Johan would come up, but Conrad managed to amuse me nonetheless.
“Are you in any hurry to get somewhere?” Conrad asks with a hopeful tone.
I have nothing else going on, but my stomach is rumbling. I suppose I could have a meal with Conrad, but I don’t want him to think this is some date.
“I was just going back to my dorm to study,” I tell him. While he looks a little disappointed, Conrad offers me his arm anyway, and I loop my hand in it.
“Then let me walk you back, at least.”
I’m lost in thought about what to order for dinner when Conrad makes a surprised noise, stopping. Astrid and Johan come into view at a bend in the footpath, and Conrad raises his arm to wave at them.
“Speaking of our friends, look who it is. Hey, you two!” he calls, and I reluctantly follow him as he approaches the couple. My heart stutters at the sight of Johan, so handsome and casual, but there is no polite way to disappear now that they’ve seen us. Astrid looks lovely, too, and the pair make the perfect Cambridge couple. It’s enough to make me want to run away, polite or not.
As they get closer, recognition flashes over their faces. Johan’s expression shifts from a casual demeanor to something more tense, perhaps even annoyed, as Conrad continues to wave, and we start approaching them. All at once, I realize what this looks like—Conrad and I, arm in arm, just like he and Astrid are, having a nice afternoon stroll together. Conrad and I look like a couple, and Johan is doing a poor job of hiding his displeasure.
The dread of seeing the pair fades, and there’s a certain satisfaction bubbling within me, knowing that my presence with Conrad is causing a reaction in Johan. Call it petty, call it a small victory, but it feels good to see him slightly agitated. I loop my arm tighter through Conrad's, an intentional move to emphasize our camaraderie, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. As we get closer, I catch Johan’s eyes narrowing, his jaw tensing. It’s a subtle reaction, but I can feel the tension in the air. Astrid, on the other hand, greets us with a warm smile, oblivious to the underlying, crackling energy between me and her boyfriend.
Conrad releases me long enough to slap Johan jovially on the shoulder and to lean in to kiss Astrid’s cheek in greeting before taking my arm once more. “Hey, Astrid, Johan. Fancy bumping into you here.”
Johan’s response is a curt nod, his gaze briefly flickering down to mine and Conrad’s linked arms. I can’t help the inward smirk, reveling in the silent discomfort I seem to be causing.
Astrid, still unaware of any tension, chimes in. “Hey, guys! We were enjoying a stroll along the river. How about you two?”
I casually shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, I’m just exploring Cambridge with Conrad. He came to get me after class. We just did a punt tour together.” I look especially at John before adding, “It was fantastic, by the way.”
Conrad smiles with pride. “It was great, yeah. Gives you a whole new perspective on the city.”
Throughout the exchange, I maintain the linked arms with Conrad, fully aware that it’s fueling Johan’s evident displeasure. It’s a subtle form of retaliation for the confusing emotions he’s stirred within me and his cruel tea prank that I haven’t forgiven him for. I’m not entirely sure what I want from him, but for now, relishing his discomfort’s satisfaction feels strangely empowering.
“Johan,” Astrid begins, a playful grin on her face, “we should go on a punt tour for our next date. It’s incredibly romantic in the evening, I’ve heard.”
Johan, though still reserved, manages a small smile. “Sure, Astrid. We can plan that.”
My attention is diverted as Astrid approaches me, her eyes gleaming. “Speaking of dates,” she starts, “Johan and I are actually heading out for dinner after this. How about we make it a double date? You and Conrad could join us. It will be fun!”
For a split second, I’m caught off guard. A double date with Johan and Astrid? The proposal is full of genuine excitement from my sweet friend, but a full evening of watching her and Johan be a lovey-dovey couple sounds like hell on earth. And then there is the fact that I don’t want Conrad to assume I have any romantic feelings towards him. But Astrid is still smiling, her enthusiasm pouring off her, and I can’t tell her no.
Conrad beats me to the punch. “Sure, why not? Sounds like a plan.”
I can see the flash of irritation in Johan’s eyes, and at that moment, I decide to add a pinch of salt to the wound.
“Thanks, Astrid, but…” I glance pointedly at Johan, a sly smile playing on my lips. “Mr. Johan doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about dining in the company of a fresher.”
Astrid, ever the optimist, is undeterred. “Oh, nonsense. He’s just having a grumpy day. You’re coming with us, and I refuse to take no for an answer.”
She takes my arm in a friendly gesture, determined to include us, placing me in the middle of a Conrad-Hannah-Astrid chain. It’s funny enough that I giggle, but Johan looks even more annoyed.
“A grumpy day, huh?” I ask Johan, unable to stop myself from teasing him a little. Astrid and Conrad’s happiness is contagious, I guess.
Johan is silent, giving me only a frown. It makes me giggle harder.
“We’re having dinner at Parker’s Tavern. It’s just a short walk from here. You’ll love it,” Astrid adds. “Follow us, it isn’t far.”
Astrid is right; we reach the restaurant in a little under twenty minutes. She’s lively and talkative, as is Conrad, but Johan remains quiet. I feel a little bad about doing so much to annoy him, finding myself caught between the satisfaction of turning the tables on him and the lingering ache of a connection I can’t quite sever.
The restaurant, nestled within the University Arms Hotel, is traditional and elegant. The exterior exudes a timeless charm, and as we enter, I find myself enchanted by the warm glow of the brasserie and bar. The wood-paneled interior, adorned with college crests, creates an atmosphere that’s part historic coaching inn, part fine dining. It’s a seamless blend of the old and new.
The arched windows offer a lovely view of Parker’s Piece, the expansive green space bathed in the soft glow of evening light. Astrid confidently leads the way, and her familiarity with the place is evident. Johan, though still reserved, seems at ease in the surroundings. With his easygoing nature, Conrad would probably be fine having dinner anywhere as long as he gets to socialize.
We’re guided to our table with its crispy white tablecloths and comfortable wooden chairs. Inside, the buttery light lingers on the rich wood paneling, and the atmosphere is filled with the murmur of hushed conversations and the clinking of fine china.
As we settle into our seats, the arrangement inadvertently places me directly across from Johan. The face-to-face setting feels both intimate and charged. It makes sense. I’m here with Conrad, so as far as Astrid is concerned, I should be sitting next to him. It’s a double date, after all. Maybe if I felt some pull towards Conrad, the way his thigh brushes against mine might be thrilling, but at the moment, I barely notice it.
“Everywhere I turn at Cambridge, something else makes me feel like I’ve gone back in time,” I muse, resting my chin on my fist and elbow on the table.
“It really is a world outside of time,” Astrid agrees, glancing around. “Maybe that’s why it attracts so many history enthusiasts.”
“I’ve wanted to go here since I was a kid,” I tell her, my attention focused on her. “My dad wasn’t thrilled that I didn’t follow my brother and sister to college in Amsterdam, but Cambridge is prestigious enough that he didn’t feel like his pride was too wounded.”
Our attentive server appears, presenting the menus and wine and beer lists. He rattles off the chef specials, and Conrad takes the initiative to order us all a round of what he says is his favorite stout.
While we wait for the beer, Conrad’s face gets closer to mine. He reads my menu with me instead of picking up his own. His breath is warm on my face, and the proximity makes me uncomfortable.
“What do you suggest?” I ask, eager to get the orders in so he can stop invading my space.
Conrad leans in more, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “How about we share the wood-fired ribeye and lemon sole? The best of both worlds, don’t you think?”
Astrid, across the table, nods in agreement. “Good choice, you two. And perhaps a bottle of the Chateau Macquin Bordeaux to accompany our feast?”
The waiter returns with the stout, thick, and rich with a caramel-colored head of foam on it. It’s sweeter than I expected, and I hum in appreciation after my first sip. We give our orders and sit back to await the food. I’m reminded all over again how easy it is to look into Johan’s eyes from across the table. It makes my cheeks flush, realizing I could touch his foot with mine if only I extended my leg. Oh, this is close. Too close.
Astrid's playfulness infuses the dinner with a light-hearted energy. Her fingers dance across the tablecloth in a mischievous rhythm as she hints at something that makes any warm flush I might have felt disappear in a rush.
“Soo…Conrad has let me in on your little secret.” Her eyes dart between Johan and I. A million possibilities flit through my mind’s eyes, especially Johan pinning me at Astrid’s estate, the two of us just a single breath away from a kiss. I feel panic crawling up my spine.
An air of caution envelops Johan and me, both of us uncertain of what she is referencing. He licks his lips and speaks first. “What are you talking about?”
Still smiling, Astrid swats him on the arm. “Oh, don’t play dumb now. Why keep it hush-hush that she’s Elise’s sister?” Astrid questions Johan, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “It’s okay, you know. I wouldn’t have taken it badly.”
Relief hits me like a freight train, the breath I have been holding coming out in a rush. Johan, the picture of nonchalance, responds with a casual shrug. “Wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.”
I jump in, attempting to keep it breezy. “We didn’t know each other that well, anyway. I was just Elise’s annoying little sister whenever he was around.”
Johan’s expression tells me that I was anything but annoying. To my surprise, his eyes hold a fondness and nostalgia for those past days. I wish I could tell him that I feel exactly the same.
As the conversation shifts, I catch sight of a few of my classmates entering the restaurant, their laughter weaving through the ambient sounds of the tavern. Instinctively, I try to keep a low profile, hiding behind the menu, knowing how it might look to be out having dinner with my professor, even if others are eating with us. I don’t want anyone to question me about Conrad, either. Spotting the group and realizing they are his students, Johan tries the same maneuver, covering his face with the manila parchment menu.
Astrid and Conrad exchange amused glances. “Seriously, you two,” Conrad laughs, leaning in. “You aren’t breaking any laws, you know?”
Astrid leans in, too, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Relax. Your secret’s safe with us. No one will ever know that Professor Johan Bentinck dared to eat at the same table as one of his young, impressionable students.”
“Impressionable student?” I scoff, keeping my menu just as high. “Not at all. I’m just worried my colleagues will think I have no life if I’m hanging out with such a boring teacher.”
Johan’s eyes widen in shock, processing my words. “Boring?” he repeats, indignation evident in his tone. “I thought my classes were great.”
I grin, enjoying the playful teasing. “Whoever told you that clearly needed to win your favor.”
Johan raises an eyebrow, a mock-serious look on his face. “You don’t think I’m a good teacher, then?”
“Oh, you’re a great teacher,” I reply with a smirk. “Just not very entertaining. Maybe you should consider adding some juggling or magic tricks to your lectures. Looking good can only last you so long…”
Johan leans closer to me, lowering his voice. “Maybe not everyone is equipped to keep up with such intellectual stimulation,” he retorts with a playful smile.
“Or maybe you’re just overestimating your charm,” I quip back, a mischievous glint in my eye. “A little humility might make you even more endearing, you know.”
“Guys, enough,” Astrid interposes, her tone filled with humor. “You’re behaving like teenagers, it’s ridiculous.”
Struck by how absurd we must look and the humor in Astrid’s observation, Johan and I lower our menus at the same time, looking at each other in embarrassed chagrin. Then, his mouth twitches up on one side, his eyes crinkling with amusement. My laughter bubbles up, and before I know it, he and I are laughing together, and it feels like the rest of the world fades away. He’s so damned close that I want to touch him so badly. To my surprise, and as if he could hear my most intimate thoughts, I feel his leg extend under the table to touch mine. A jolt of electricity shoots through me, and I glance at him, wide-eyed.
Johan meets my eyes with a corner smile, a secretive and intimate expression meant only for me. He continues his conversation with Astrid and Conrad, his voice steady and composed, as if nothing unusual is happening. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my body warming at the secret contact. I flush deeply, trying to steady my breathing and focus on the drink in front of me, but it’s no use. All I can think about is his leg against mine, the silent, thrilling message it carries.
Our food finally comes, but his leg keeps touching mine—a gentle reminder of our secret connection.
Once we are at mid-meal, we watch as a jazz band begins to set up, which explains why the tavern is already so full. We’ve come on a live music night, unbeknownst to us. The jazz band starts their set, and the bright, brassy music has the entire restaurant buzzing with energy. The saxophonist's lively tunes fill the air, creating a contagious rhythm that makes everyone clap along. The atmosphere is electric, and I can’t help but get caught up in the infectious vibe.
Johan and I share a moment, a glance that’s like a silent acknowledgment of what we’re both feeling and the unexpected happiness the night has brought. For a moment, it’s just Johan and me, attuned to the music and each other.
However, amidst it all, Conrad keeps trying to engage me in conversation. He’s animated, sharing stories and trying to hold my attention, but my focus keeps drifting back to Johan. There’s an unspoken connection, an understanding as if we’re sharing a secret—which, I guess, we are…many secrets, in fact.
Like the fact that I want him beyond logic and sense or that he all but admitted that he left Astrid for me back at the party. Or that we once had lunched beside a burbling stream, discussing a family mystery, before spending two days at an equestrian show.
God, he and I have so much history in our short time, all so steeped with meaning and…longing.
Eventually, the evening ends, and as we leave Parker’s Tavern, our group naturally divides; Astrid and Johan head one way, their figures blending into the night, while Conrad and I venture in the opposite direction toward my dorm. A subtle glance back reveals Johan’s silhouette disappearing into the distance, and an unwelcome pang of longing tightens in my chest.
Conrad walks beside me, refusing to let me walk home alone in the dark. We engage in light chatter about the evening, the jazz, and the delicious meal.
“I think Astrid really enjoyed herself tonight despite Johan being a drag,” Conrad muses, a hopeful tone coming into his voice as he asks, “Did you have a good time, too?”
I force a smile, trying to match his enthusiasm. “Oh, yeah, the jazz band was fantastic, and the food...exceptional.”
He grins, seemingly content with my response. Little does he know that my mind still echoes Johan’s laughter, our secret connection under the table, and the fleeting glances we shared during dinner. The undeniable bond between us lingers like a ghost, haunting my thoughts. Walking back home, the cool night air does little to quell the warmth that lingers from dinner. The forbidden allure of it all leaves a sweet taste on my lips.
Once we reach my building, Conrad leans in and gives me a slow kiss on each cheek.
“Good night, Hannah,” he says, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, before turning and walking away.
I get inside and up the stairs until I enter my dorm room, haunted by the echoes of a night that should have been just a group outing but turned into something more complex, more tangled.
Flopping down on my bed, I close my eyes, letting the memory of the night wash over me like a comforting wave. Johan’s handsome face and smile, the jazz melodies, and the shared glances all play on a loop in my mind. I can still feel the closeness we shared, how he looked at me, and how sitting across from him at the tavern felt like our secret little date, hidden in plain sight.
A tiny pang of guilt flits through my thoughts. After all, Conrad and Astrid were there, too, and it should have been a double date, as my friend suggested in the first place. Whenever I’m around her and Johan, I feel like I’m lying to her about our history and attraction to each other.
And then there’s the lie resting on my bedside table, the little bauble I took from her show, but that’s a worry for another time.
Still a little fuzzy from the beer and wine, I replay the moments over and over in my mind, dissecting the entire dinner. It’s as if the universe conspired to create a bubble around us, a bubble that held only Johan and me.
The guilt is fleeting, overshadowed by the intoxicating thrill of my crush, the world reduced to stolen glances and shared moments. It’s a guilty pleasure, one I’m not sure I should indulge in, but for now, I relish in the enthralling afterglow of an evening that feels like so much more than it should have been.
I might have had one too many stouts, the residual buzz making my face flush and my inhibitions much, much looser than normal, because I reach for my phone, the idea of texting Johan playing at the edges of my mind.
My fingers hover over the screen as I flirt with the idea. He must have felt it, too, the secret date within a double date. A smile tugs at my lips as I imagine his reaction, but then my rational side kicks in. It’s wrong , I scold myself. I shouldn't be indulging in these thoughts. I’m sure he’s still with Astrid.
Yet caution is fleeting, easily discarded in the warmth of the alcohol's embrace. I throw it to the wind, typing out a message: I really enjoyed the evening. We should do it more often. X.
I hit send before I can overthink it, feeling excitement and nervousness as I toss my phone aside. With a content sigh, I pull my comforter over me, still clad in my day clothes. Sleep tugs at my senses, the events of the evening replaying in my mind as I mentally erase Astrid and Conrad, leaving just Johan and me. It’s a fantasy I want to hold onto, even if the rational part of me warns of the potential complications ahead. Sleep comes, and I fall into it, the dream of him and I alone still on my mind.