Page 85 of Hannah.

I know she feels the same way. The way she looked at me, the way her body responded to my touch, the way she whispered myname—it's more than just desire. There’s a connection. There’s emotion.

And knowing that makes it even harder to say goodbye to all of this.

We have to be careful, smart, and, most of all, trust that what we’re doing is worth the risk.

I press a soft kiss to the top of Hannah’s head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. She sighs softly, snuggling closer to me, and I tighten my arm around her waist, holding her close.

We might be saying goodbye to Portmeirion, but we’re just getting started with each other.

We take breakfast out on the stone patio, and it makes me laugh internally to think about how little time we’ve spent in the cottage properly. Instead, we've passed our hours in the bedroom suite, both of us knowing that the scenery and cottage were really just afterthoughts. We came here for each other, the privacy, and the chance to spend uninterrupted time discovering this powerful thing between us.

After enjoying a hearty breakfast of fresh fruit, toast, and eggs, we lie on the patio’s double lounger to savor these last moments together. Sitting up, our backs against the cushioned backrest and legs stretched out in front of us, we bask in the rare sunlight.

“I'll miss this,” she says softly. I already know what she means because I feel it, too, but I humor her anyway. “Portmeirion?”

Hannah shoves playfully at me. “Don’t be obtuse. You know what I mean—being able to hold you, touch you, and sleep beside you.”

“We're living on the same campus,” I remind her. “You’re talking like this is all over. It’s just the beginning.”

“I know, but it’s just not the same thing.”

She’s right, but I don't want to admit it. Leaving the bubble we’ve created here will be hard, and the reality of trying to hide our relationship from the rest of the world will put a strain on us. Hannah is smart and incredibly observant. I’m sure she can see the strife in the coming weeks just as clearly as I can.

Instead of admitting it, I cup Hannah’s chin, tilting her face towards mine. I kiss her gently, letting my lips linger against hers. Her mouth opens, and our tongues tangle together. We’re still sitting up on the lounger when Hannah pushes me back until I’m fully laid down, her body draped over mine. It’s lazy and gentle. Unhurried.

“Hannah,” I murmur, my hands moving to grip her ass, content to pretend that everything is fine right along with her. “We have to pack.”

“I know.” Her breath is hot against my neck as she kisses and sucks a trail from my earlobe down to my collarbone. “Stop reminding me.”

“You have class tomorrow, and I have a class to teach. The real world is going to intrude, and we’re going to have to face it.”

“Shut up.” Hannah lifts her head and presses her lips to mine. Hard. I can feel the urgency in her, and I know that I’m not the only one who is dreading what’s coming. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

I do. I do it because Hannah is intoxicating, and I’m powerless to resist her.

I don’t take her right there on the patio under the open sky, even though I can’t think of a single thing I’ve ever wanted more in life. Instead, we kissed, held each other, and watched the white fluffy clouds floating by, not saying a single thing.

When we finally pack, it's around one pm, and the drive back is long, filled with stolen glances and quiet music. Hannah’s hand is in mine, and I’m tempted to keep driving until we’re somewhere else, far away, where we can hide away for a few more days in another town, another inn, another bed. That's the fantasy, anyway, but the real world is waiting for us.

“Should we have a plan?” she asks me, and I shake my head.

“There are too many variables. Let's just keep it simple for now. Act like nothing has changed in public, and I promise I will make time for us to be alone as often as I can. I’ll talk to Astrid to make sure she knows it’s over. And once I’m no longer your professor, we can start figuring out how to be official and inform our families.”

“Mmm,” Hannah hums thoughtfully, gazing out the window. “I assume there's no timeline on all of that, then.”

I wince. “Ah, no. Sorry. I know Astrid is going to want to talk to me after this weekend, so meeting up with her should be simple enough. Whether she takes it without causing a fuss is another thing entirely.”

Hannah shifts in her seat, turning to face me fully, her eyes searching mine as the landscape whizzes by outside the car windows. “Are you going to tell her about us?” she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

I keep my eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Do you want me to?” My question hangs in the air as I glance at her briefly before focusing back on the highway.

She bites her lip, looking down at her hands resting in her lap. “Maybe… I don’t know.” Her voice’s almost a whisper, filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. The tension between us ispalpable, mingling with the steady hum of the car engine and the rhythmic thump of tires on asphalt.

“If you prefer, we could make it a weekend-only thing until the school year is over, and I don’t have to mention you to her at all. We can pretend it happened sometime after I cut ties with Astrid completely, act like it happened naturally….”

“No,” Hannah cuts me off firmly. “I refuse to be your secret for that long. I know you need to talk to Astrid, and we need to be careful until you stop being my teacher, but after that? We’re just two consenting adults involved with one another. That’s it. No shame, no hiding.”

“Alright.” I squeeze her hand gently, not wanting to prolong the discussion. Her skin is warm and reassuring under my touch. “Just trying to make this easy.”

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