Page 32 of Hannah.

A soft chime interrupts my thoughts, and I glance at my phone to find a text from Johan himself. My heart flips in my chest, and I pick it up and open the message.

Astrid told us you went to bed early. Are you okay? I’m worried. X

Well…I didn’t expect this. Honestly, I thought he and I would go back to mostly ignoring each other and pretending to be strangers once more. The single letter at the end of the text feels oddly intimate, even if I know better. I sigh, my thumb hovering over the screen, contemplating how to respond.

Yeah, just an upset stomach, I type back, keeping it simple, not wanting to burden him or be too casual with a man that I have no business talking to beyond pleasantries. But hisconcern pulls at my heartstrings, reminding me that despite our situation, there's a genuine connection.

Do you want me to bring you something?Johan offers, surprising me. What could he possibly be bringing me that wouldn’t make things awkward as hell after last night?

I hesitate, my mind waging a silent battle between wanting his presence and fearing its implications.

I’m fine now. Thanks,I reply, trying to sound casual, though my fingers tremble slightly as I type.

Not even an English tea?he responds, injecting a hint of playful banter into the conversation as if trying to break through the walls I’ve managed to put up around my emotions.

A small, involuntary chuckle escapes my lips at his persistence. It’s all too easy to accept his offer just to see him. I won’t let him stay long…Okay, English tea, then,I concede, my resolve weakening.

As I hit send, anticipation washes over me. The idea of Johan coming to my room, even for something as mundane as tea, ignites a flutter of excitement in my stomach.Alone, in a bedroom!

Yet, beneath that excitement simmers a whole hell of a lot of complicated feelings—longing and confusion that I’m not quite ready to confront.

As I jump up from my bed, my mind races with thoughts of what to say and how to act. I head to the mirror, my hands trembling slightly as I smooth down my hair, trying to appear casual and composed. Who am I kidding? I’m anything but composed right now. I try to convince myself that it's just tea, that there's no reason to get worked up over a simple gesture. But deep down, I know it's more than that.

I brush my teeth, my movements automatic, my mind caught up in thoughts of Johan. I debate putting on a touch of makeup, then decide against it; he should see me just as I am. A spritz ofperfume, a quick check in the mirror, and I’m ready, or as ready as I'll ever be.

Back on the bed, I take a moment to compose myself. I remind myself that I’m the one who pushed him away last night and that I can't expect him to keep coming back, especially after my rejection. Yet, a part of me can't help but hope, a small flame of longing flickering in my chest. I shake my head, trying to dispel the unrealistic fantasies dancing in my mind.

Then I hear a soft knock on my door. It’s silly, really. He’s with Astrid, which is who heshouldbe with. I shouldn't be this thrilled at the prospect of seeing Johan again. But my heart doesn't seem to understand logic, especially when it comes to him. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts, and then call, “Come in.”

The door opens, and for a fleeting moment, hope surges within me. But then I see it's not Johan but Conrad standing there, and my heart sinks, the excitement dissipating like smoke in the wind.

Conrad, his cheerful grin stretching from ear to ear, pushes the door fully open. He’s holding a steaming cup in one hand, the other resting against the door frame.

“Good morning, Hannah. I brought you some tea. May I come in?” He holds up the cup as if it's the solution to all my problems.

“Of course,” I reply, my voice a tad too bright, my disappointment hidden behind a practiced smile. “Good morning, Conrad.” I accept the tea, the warm ceramic grounding my shaking hands. Taking a cautious sip, I glance away, my eyes searching the room for a way out of this unexpected encounter.

I thank him, trying to mask my feelings, but I can't help but glance back at the door, half-expecting Johan to appear, as if he might magically materialize despite my rejection.

Conrad, oblivious to my inner turmoil, launches into small talk, his words filling the room with an unbearable lightness. I nod, smile, and laugh at his jokes; all the while, my mind races, wondering when he'll leave and if Johan will show up after all. The tea, usually a comforting ritual, now is bland and unwanted.

I focus on the swirls in my tea, desperately waiting for this encounter to end. I’m so pissed at Johan for this stupid joke and how cruel it is to Conrad. He had to have known I would be taken aback when the wrong man appeared.

Every word Conrad utters grates on my nerves. I know he wants me to return his interest. I just…don’t. It’s not Conrad’s fault, and if Johan wasn’t in the picture, I might even have a passing interest, but the timing is all wrong. I try to steer the conversation toward neutral topics, anything to avoid discussing why I might be feeling down, but he keeps pressing into more personal territory over and over again.

Finally, Conrad picks up on my subtle cues and makes a move to leave. Before he does, though, he drops a last comment. “Oh, we’re heading back to Cambridge in twenty.”

When the door shuts behind him, I go to pour out the now tepid tea in the bathroom sink and start gathering my belongings. My return to my private dorm can’t come soon enough.

Once I’m ready, I head downstairs, the knot of annoyance still lodged firmly in my chest. Astrid’s car waits outside, all sleek sophistication, while the staff loads our luggage into the trunk.

When I come out with my things, a staff member graciously takes my bag while I steal a glance at Astrid and Johan. They kiss, oblivious that I’ve arrived, and it feels like a dagger twistingin my gut, igniting a wildfire of jealousy within me. Oh, I don’t like this at all. I try to hide it, but I turn away just in case until I get myself under control.

“Oh, hey, Hannah,” Astrid chirps, blissfully unaware. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very much so,” I reply, my voice steady despite how I feel. I turn to Johan, his eyes holding a glint of amusement, and I can't resist a sarcastic quip. “Thanks for the tea.”

His gaze flickers to Astrid, a momentary panic in his eyes, hoping she missed the subtle jab. Fortunately, she's engrossed in conversation with the staff, giving me the perfect opportunity to make my escape. I move towards Astrid’s car, yearning to flee all of this, but Astrid’s innocent request feels like another knife twist.

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