Page 49 of Johan.

He looks up, his eyes softening as he sees me. A slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “A Macallan. Do you want one?”

“Sure,” I reply, trying to sound casual even though my heart quickens with a mix of excitement and apprehension. It's my first time drinking whiskey, but I don't let on. He pours a glass and hands it to me, the amber liquid catching the light. We clink our glasses together, the soft chime echoing in the room.

“Well, to your wonderful future in England. I guess you have your life all in order. Far from us,” he says, raising his glass. There's a hint of sadness in his voice, a slight tremor that betrays his attempt to sound cheerful. His expression mirrors his tone, the lines on his face deepening as he speaks.

I take a sip, the whiskey burning slightly as it goes down, and ask gently, “Dad, are you sad?” I can't ignore the melancholy I see in his eyes, a mix of pride and longing.

“Not sad per se. Just…” He meets my gaze, his eyes searching mine. “You grew up so fast. I still remember those dinners we had, just the two of us, while your mom was away.”

“While she was considering a divorce, you mean…” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. A small chuckle escapes my lips, but it feels forced. Then, straightening my posture, I add more seriously, “You still have Joris, Aleida, and Arthur at home. Must be busy.”

He sighs, a deep, weary sound. “Well, yes and no. Joris is twelve and only cares about fencing and hanging out with his friends. I'm an old dinosaur to him. Andries almost never shows up at home now that he’s part of a lit club in Amsterdam. Thank God Elise is still around, but that’s only because I'm paying her the same wage as a ten-year-experience employee.”

“Are you serious? The only way you would see Elise is by having her employed at the company?” I ask, unable to hide the disbelief in my voice.

“Well, it's not a bad choice. She’s learning fast, and at least I get to see one of my children daily. Worth every penny.” Hisattempt at humor doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which remain clouded with a hint of sadness.

In that moment, I realize how much my dad is struggling with the oldest three of us leaving to live our own lives. The weight of his emotions presses down on me, making my chest ache with a mix of guilt and empathy. “Why don't you ever call if you miss us that much?” I ask him gently, hoping to bridge the gap that has grown between us.

“Oh well, I don't want to bother,” he says, looking away as if ashamed to admit his loneliness.

"You wouldn’t be bothering us. You should call from time to time,” I pause, taking another sip of the whiskey, feeling it warm me from the inside out. “I know you're used to asking Mom to call us and then give you an update, but there’s no harm in reaching out directly, even for a two-minute catch-up.”

He nods slowly, considering my words. The room feels heavy with unspoken emotions, the walls closing in as we stand there, father and daughter, trying to navigate this new phase of our relationship. I hope he understands how much we still need and want his presence in our lives, no matter how far away we are. The silence stretches on, but it feels comforting now, filled with the promise of new beginnings and the strength of our bond.

As we stand there, Elise walks in and heads straight for the group around the fireplace. She starts whispering to Andries, Dan, and Roxanne, who all look in my direction. I roll my eyes and turn back to my dad. “To be honest, I really enjoy living in Cambridge. It's really nice. Way less gossipy.”

My dad hums in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips, when Johan walks in, looking around the room. His eyes meet mine, and I call him over.

Johan makes his way towards us, and my dad notices his expression. “You look like you need a drink,” he says to Johan.

“I do, indeed. Just had a bad phone call,” Johan replies, his voice heavy with whatever news he just received.

“Yeah, I can see that,” I say, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the furrow in his brow. I glance over Johan’s shoulder and see Elise still whispering to the others, her eyes flicking towards us. My irritation flares up again. “Dad, can you serve Johan a Macallan? I will be right back. And refill mine, please.”

I walk over to where Elise, Dan, Andries, and Roxanne are gathered. Their hushed conversation stops as I approach. “What's up since you all seem so engrossed in secrecy?” I ask, my voice edged with impatience.

Elise looks up, her expression blank. “Nothing,” she says, but I don't believe her.

“Really? Nothing? You just arrived and started spreading gossip like a vicious snake. I know you,” I say, my tone sharp.

Roxanne steps in, her voice calm but firm. “You're right, Hannah. Elise, unfortunately, hasn’t grown much and still believes the world only revolves around her.”

Elise gasps at Roxanne’s words, but Roxanne continues, “You know I'm right. The best is to fess up to your sister.”

I wait, my eyes locked on Elise. Finally, she speaks. “What? I was commenting on how strange it is to see Johan again, that's all.”

“And what else were you saying?” I press on.

Elise taps her feet, her mind mulling over what to say next. “I just don’t understand why you’d bring an engaged man here. What are you? His mistress? I'm just worried about you.”

“Bullshit. You're just pissed because you don't know the underlying reason for his presence. As I told you all before, we are good friends. Now leave us alone.” I turn on my heels and head back to my dad and Johan, feeling a renewed sense ofconfidence. Facing Elise, who always looked down on me, feels liberating.

When I return, my dad and Johan are chatting, their drinks in hand. I join them, feeling lighter and more self-assured. The room feels warmer now, the earlier tension dissipating as we share this moment together.

As the evening winds down, everyone begins to gather their coats, exchanging hugs and warm farewells as they make their way toward the foyer. Johan, Amelia, and I are staying the night, a decision I’m grateful for given the long drive home. The familiar comfort of Oma’s house feels like a needed respite.

Mom approaches me, a crease of concern in her brow, her voice soft but tinged with worry. “Are you sure you want to stay at Oma’s?”

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