Page 17 of Hannah.

Not looking directly at him is driving me crazy. I need to see his face…need to read the emotions in his eyes. All of this is so new to me. Giving in, I turn to stare at him, feeling like I’m being torn in a million different directions. Inside of me, there’s hurt, confusion, and a hint of something I can't quite grasp flickering through my mind one after the other before starting the process all over.

“Okay, and? I’ve got nothing to do with any of that,” I reply, my tone sharper than I intended.

Johan exhales slowly, his posture turning to face me. “Hannah…I know you’re upset because I didn’t text you back,” he starts, his words hesitant, his eyes searching mine for understanding. “But I?—”

“You don't have to justify yourself,” I cut him off bitterly. “I’m just a fresher, after all.”

“That's not what I wanted to say.” His expression’s pained, as if he’s grappling with his own emotions just like I am. The unsaid words hang between us like chasms, widening with every heartbeat. The weight of our unspoken history lingers in the air. “Can we, uh, talk for a minute?”

Talk?About what? About the tangled mess of secrets, the attraction still lingering from years ago, and the unanswered questions between us? My mind races.

In that instant, a car pulls up, its sleek black exterior gleaming under the streetlights. What luck!

“Sorry, my Uber’s arrived.” In a rush, I open the door and slide into the back seat, hoping to leave this bewildering encounter behind. Of course, nothing is ever easy, and when I shut the door behind me, I see the one from the other side opening and Johan sliding inside beside me before closing it with a click. I can't hide my surprise…or my annoyance.

Exasperated, I throw my hands up. “What are you even doing?”

“I just want to talk.”

The Uber driver turns around and gives me a questioning look about my new companion, and after a frustrating moment, I nod to let him know it’s okay. I don’t want to be around Johan, but it’s not like he’s a danger. The car hits the road, and here I am, sharing the same space as the man I was trying to run away from.

Lowering my voice so that only Johan can hear me, I lean slightly closer beside him and say, “You’re my professor, and you’re in a relationship with someone I greatly respect and call a friend—there’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s exactly what I thought when I got your text,” he utters, matching my discretion. “I just didn’t know what to say. Cambridge’s policy strongly discourages facultyfrom having personal relationships with students, especially with undergraduates. And I knew if I saw you again….”

As Johan looks me in the eye, he probably notices my hurt and how much I don’t want to touch this subject. After two years, we are meeting again, but now he’s met someone and, of course, she had to be the only friend I made on campus.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you something.” His words are delivered with a sincerity and humility I didn’t expect, which warms and squeezes my heart at the same time.

“That’s alright.” I close my arms, shrug, and look out of the window. The silence that fills the space between us is deafening, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the car's engine. I steel myself, preparing to endure this awkward ride.

“There’s something else I need to tell you….”

My attention turns back to him at his words. He seems to hesitate, which piques my interest.

“I know who Amelia is.” His words drop into the car like heavy stones, sending ripples out. Damn him. He knows that he’s got me now.

“What?” My mind’s reeling, my fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of my seat. Amelia, the woman who had become an unsettling mystery in my life.

Johan soldiers on, not wasting any time now that he has my full attention. “She used to be a professor of archaeology and a researcher here until she mysteriously disappeared twenty years ago,” Johan reveals, his voice measured. “She washere, Hannah. Isn’t it crazy?”

“Why didn't you tell me before?” I demand, my voice laced with hurt, my gaze piercing into his as I shift to face him fully.

“I found out earlier this week when her name popped up in a few papers I reviewed. I planned on telling you.” He holds up his hands to try and calm me down, but in vain. “I swear I haven’t been hiding this from you. I hope you know that I would never do that.”

“How can you be so sure it’s her?”

“She’s Dutch, and her true name is Amelia van Wassenaer. I did a little research and found that van Wassenaer was your grandmother’s maiden name.”

The tension in the air crackles as we finally reach my dorm. With the car rolling to a stop, I don’t have much time left. “Oma never told me that,” I stammer, stumbling over my words. “That’s…well, that’s incredible. I had pretty much given up on knowing anything about her.”

“Me too, honestly.” He looks out the window at the college hall, drawing out a breath, before his gaze finds mine again. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw her name. If you ever want to pass by my department and see her work, I can make it happen.” His tone is tentative, as if testing the waters between us.

Johan's offer catches me off guard, his attempt to bridge the gap between our worlds surprising yet oddly comforting.

I consider him for a moment, the prospect tugging at my curiosity. “Alright, I will.”

My gaze holds his for a moment as if time itself has stopped. His hand lifts from his lap, fingers outstretched like he might touch my cheek, but he catches himself and closes it into a fist instead. The simple movement makes warmth pool in my belly, and my pulse quickens. He wants to touch me…and I want him to touch me, too. There's a powerful magnetic pull, like the gravity between two moons. For the briefest moment, while our eyes are locked, I can feel this invisible force pulling us closer, the urge to bridge the space between us and kiss him surging like a tidal wave.

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