Page 88 of Hannah.

Oh, I’m going to have to be careful with her. I’m the older one of us two; I need to make better calls. But damn, does she make it hard.

Once my head has cleared and rational thoughts have returned, I drive home. I’m not tired in the slightest, and it’s not terribly late. I can unpack, answer some emails, and make a cup of tea. Maybe read a bit before bed.

There’s one thing that I’m going to have to deal with, heavy in the bottom of my small luggage bag—my phone, which has been turned off since that call from Lukas. I never thought there would be a time in my life when I would be uninterested in hearing about archaeology, but everything is boring when Hannah is with me.

My messages and emails have been on “Do Not Disturb” for the last two days, and I know that I’m going to have a hell of a lot to answer. Work is one thing—it was the weekend, and although it isn’t normal for me, it isn’t out of the question for someone not to take correspondence.

Astrid, though? I know good and fucking well she’s going to have a lot to say.

I haven’t been completely truthful with Hannah. While it’s true that Astrid and I aren’t together, the last time I saw her, I agreed to discuss our relationship further on Monday. Then I went radio silent. She undoubtedly still has hope for us and has probably been trying to get in touch with me all weekend.

Steeling myself, I head up to my apartment, throwing my bag on the floor by the door and turning on all the lights. The place seems foreign and impersonal. I don’t spend much time here, and it feels like a hotel rather than a home.

I go through the motions of making tea, ignoring the potential bomb that is my phone. After settling in at my kitchen table and wrapping my hands around a hot mug, I finally, reluctantly, power on the device.

Several emails, some missed calls, one voice message, and one text.

I exhale.

Two messages are all I have. Only two messages, and of course, they’re from Astrid.

Somehow, the lack of messages is more terrifying than if there were hundreds of them. My stomach drops to the floor, and my hands tingle even as I clutch the heated mug. This is it.

First, I open the voicemail and press the phone to my ear.

“Johan.” Her voice is frigid, flat. No hello. No friendly, light-hearted tone.

“I’m with your mom and mine having dinner after the art gallery, and, well, I tried calling you since this afternoon, but your phone is off. It’s been hours like this. Is everything okay? Anyway, I guess I’ll see you on Monday. We have things to discuss, you and I, remember? You won’t be able to avoid me any longer. Don’t bother trying, either.”

She hangs up. There’s no goodbye, no see you later.

Just...nothing.

Fuck.

The next text was sent today, just an hour ago. It’s equally as sparse, but the ten words are enough to send me reeling.

Astrid:I hope the two of you had a good time x

Fuck! I break out in a cloying sweat, abandoning my phone and my tea, pacing the room like I’m electrified.

What do I do? Do I reply? Do I pretend like I have no idea what she’s talking about?

Hannah has told no one, that’s clear. Otherwise, her entire world would be imploding right now, too. So, how did Astrid find out? No, it’s not worth playing dumb. I’m not a good liar, anyway. I could play innocent and surprised, but she’d never buy it. I’d already planned to tell her the truth, just as slowly and as gently as possible. This… technically doesn’t interfere with that, except for the glaring fact I kissed Astrid goodbye Thursday night, right before going on a romantic getaway with her good friend Hannah.

Oh, hell.

I decide to get a little liquid courage, pouring a whiskey over ice and settling onto the couch. There are several responses I could give. I could apologize and beg for forgiveness. I could play ignorant. I could tell her the truth.

Finally, after another drink and a half, I settle on one.

Johan:Shall we talk tomorrow as planned? In person?

I don’t expect a response. She’s angry and hurt, and rightly so, and the ball is in her court. To my surprise, less than a minute later, my phone buzzes.

Astrid:Yes.

Short and to the point. Well, then.

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