Page 60 of Johan.

Mom hesitates, her lips pressing together before she asks, “And do you know how long this could take?”

I heave a long sigh, taking a sip of my tea to warm my cold hands. “Not really. A couple of months, maybe. At least when he’s in Oman, he’ll be far from her.”

“But also far from you.” Her eyes soften with understanding.

My face falls as I realize the depth of my predicament. “I know. Elise was right. I shouldn’t have invited an engaged man over,” I say, my voice trembling. “The more I love him, the more it hurts.”

She reaches across the table, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “Oh dear, I’m sure one day or another things will get better. And if you have a plan and a deadline, then I’m sure Johan will work hard to break free sooner rather than later.”

I nod, my eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I hope you’re right.”

Mom then moves around the bar, wrapping me in a big hug and planting a kiss on my head. “Remember, we are here for you. Anytime you need, dear.”

The warmth of her embrace offers a fleeting comfort, a reminder of the support I have even amidst the chaos. I lean into the hug, feeling a bit of my burden lift, even if just for a moment. The weight of the situation still lingers, but at this moment, I am reminded that I am not alone.

After tea with my mom, I head upstairs to Arthur's bedroom, where he and Johan are still playing. The sight of them engrossed in their imaginative world brings a brief smile tomy face. I lean against the doorframe, watching as Arthur animatedly explains the latest adventure of Drago and Sir Knight, his little hands moving expressively.

"Time to go downstairs for lunch," I call out gently, trying to sound cheerful.

Arthur barely glances up, his focus still on his toys. "Just a few more minutes, please."

I sigh, stepping further into the room, the cozy warmth contrasting with the chilly hallway. "It's now, Arthur, not in a few minutes."

Arthur looks up, his face scrunching in protest, but I stand firm. When he doesn’t budge, I walk over to Johan, taking his hand. His touch is warm and reassuring as I gently pull him up from the floor. Johan rises smoothly, and I lead him out of the bedroom. Arthur, realizing we’re serious, scrambles to his feet and follows us into the corridor.

I find the nanny nearby; her presence is always a calm, steadying influence. “Can you take Arthur down for lunch?” I ask.

She smiles warmly and takes Arthur’s hand, her eyes twinkling. Arthur keeps looking back at Johan, clearly not wanting to leave his new playmate. “There’s a dragon downstairs waiting for you, Arthur,” the nanny says in a playful tone.

Arthur’s eyes widen with excitement, and he lets himself be led away, his chatter filling the corridor. With a final glance at Johan, he hurries down the stairs, talking animatedly about the dragon.

I take Johan’s hand again, feeling a surge of warmth and security. We walk quietly to my bedroom, each step filled with anticipation. Once inside, I close the door softly and turn the lock, the click echoing in the stillness. “Finally alone,” I murmur, my voice low and filled with longing. I step closer and kiss him, hard and passionate, feeling the connection deepen.

Pulling back slightly, I look into his eyes. “I’ve got something for you,” I say, my voice softer now, almost a whisper. “Since you got me a present for Christmas, I’ve got a little something from my own Oddities collection.”

I reach into my pocket and take out the erotic ring, its intricate design gleaming softly. Holding one of his hands, I begin to explain. “This ring was made 160 years ago in France, but for some reason, it found its way to an antique shop in Amsterdam.” I slip the ring onto the finger of his left hand, the metal cool against his skin. “While I can’t be with you at the NYE’s ball or in Oman, this ring can, and I hope it’ll remind you of me.”

Johan gazes at the ring, his eyes wide with awe and appreciation. He turns his hand slowly, the female figurines interlaced around the band catching the light. “Hannah, it’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen a ring like this before.”

I smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. I lean in and kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the taste of his lips. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. We stand there for a moment, lost in the intensity of the kiss, the world outside fading away.

Our kisses grow more passionate, the urgency building. Johan’s hands move up my back, sending shivers down my spine. I tangle my fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, feeling the heat between us rise. Each touch, each caress, is filled with a promise, a silent vow of love and commitment.

We move to the bed, our bodies entwined, the connection between us palpable. The worries and uncertainties melt away, replaced by the raw, undeniable connection we share. In this moment, nothing else matters but us, together, lost in our love.

24

Johan

This weekwith Hannah has flown by, each day a precious gem in a sea of uncertainty. Now, I stand by the car, the driver waiting patiently to take me to the airport. The early morning chill bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the cold feeling of leaving her behind. The sky is a muted gray, the sun hidden behind a veil of clouds as if the world itself mourns our parting.

Hannah stands close, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I try to etch every detail of her face into my memory—the curve of her lips, the way her hair catches the light, and the deep, soulful look in her eyes. She’s wrapped in a thick coat, but I can still see the tremble in her shoulders, whether from the cold or the emotions, I can’t tell.

“I’ll come back,” I promise, my voice thick with emotion, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

She nods, but her eyes betray her doubts. “Worst case scenario, I’ll try to see you before you go to Oman,” she whispers, her voice barely steady.

She steps closer, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. I feel the warmth of her body against mine, the way her hands clutch at my back as if holding on for dear life. Her tears begin to soak through my shirt, each one a silent testament to the pain of our impending separation. It hurts, knowing how much this is tearing her apart, and I can feel my own heart breaking in response.

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