His Daddy’s Fated Mate

17: Not disaster

Hannah’s POV

The tidal wave of disappointment that surged through me moments ago began to ebb, but the hurt lingered, raw and suffocating. It wasn’t just that Taylor, my best friend and my rock, had pushed me. It was the way her gaze distant and cold had stripped me down to nothing. For a moment, I wasn’t her Hans. I wasn’t her ride-or-die. I was… a stranger.

And then, just as quickly, the ice in her expression melted, replaced by wide-eyed shock. She blinked, her bright blue eyes the same shade as Liam’s, a detail I hated noticingsuddenly locking onto mine as if she were seeing me for the first time.

“Wait Hannah? Hans?!” Her voice pitched higher with every syllable, and it sounded so much like her usual dramatic self that I almost burst into tears.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, my voice sharp despite the lump forming in my throat. “What the hell, Tay? You pushed me like I was some creep lurking in the woods!” I remained sprawled on the forest floor, cradling my bruised pride as much as my actual bruises.

Taylor blinked again, then gasped. “Oh my God! Hans!” Without warning, she launched herself at me like a missile.

“Taylor, no—“

Too late.

Her weight collided with mine, driving the air out of my lungs as we landed on the hard-packed dirt. My back screamed in protest, and I let out a strangled grunt. “Seriously?” I wheezed. “Are you trying to killme?”

Taylor’s arms wrapped around me like a vice, ignoring my complaints as she buried her face in my shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you,” she mumbled, her voice trembling slightly.

“Lost me? You mean in the last thirty seconds since you tried to flatten me?”

She pulled back, her face breaking into a wide grin. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the person who screamed my name like I came back from the dead.” I glared at her, but the warmth spreading through my chest betrayed me. This was the Taylor I knew the one who could make me laugh even when I wanted to cry.

She stood and offered me a hand, which I took, though I groaned as every bruise on my body made itself known. “My back is officially broken, by the way,” I said, brushing dirt off my jeans. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Ecstatic.” Her grin widened. “But seriously, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

I tilted my head, feigning deep thought. “Well, my back is ruined, my butt’s going to be sore for a week, and I’m emotionally scarred. So, yeah, I’m fine.”

Taylor clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with exaggerated guilt. “Oh no! What have I done to my precious Hans? My poor, delicate baby!”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hold back the small smile tugging at my lips. Leave it to Taylor to make me feel like myself again, even in the middle of this emotional whirlwind. “Stop calling me ‘delicate.’ You’re the one who nearly broke my ribs.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, waving her hands in surrender. Then she looped her arm through mine, a gesture so familiar it made my heart ache with relief. “I’ll make it up to you. How about a spa day? My treat. Or, ooh, a tattoo date! Remember how we said I’d let you design one for me?”

I snorted. “You mean the tattoo you still haven’t gotten because you’re too scared your agents will find out?”

“Exactly,” she said brightly. “But if I ever do it, you’re my girl. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said softly. Her energy was infectious, pulling me out of the pit of despair I’d fallen into moments ago. For now, at least, things felt… normal.

But the relief was short lived. As we started walking, my thoughts turned darker, twisting and knotting in my mind like a storm cloud. Did she know? About Liam and me? About the secret that threatened to destroy everything I had left?

I snuck a glance at her profile. Her features were serene, almost carefree, but it didn’t ease the tension coiling in my chest. If she didn’t know yet, she would eventually. And when she found out, would she still be this version of Taylor the one who hugged me like her life depended on it or would she become someone else entirely?

Her voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. “Hans, are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

I blinked, startled, and forced a smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

She stopped walking, turning to face me with a frown. “Thinking about what? Is something wrong?” Her concern was genuine, and it made my chest ache.

“Nothing serious,” I lied. “Just… stuff.”

“Stuff?” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t get to ‘stuff’ me, Hans. Spill.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to tell her needed to but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I shook my head and tried to laugh it off. “It’s nothing, Tay. Really.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “Fine. But if you don’t tell me soon, I’m going to pester you until you do.”

I smiled faintly, grateful for the reprieve. For now, I’d hold onto this moment the laughter, the lightness, the bond that had always made Taylor feel like home. Because deep down I knew it wouldn’t last.