From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 122

**Chapter 79: You’re Too Pure**

With an unexpected force that belied my own weight, Roman propelled me into the passenger seat as if I were nothing more than a feather caught in a gust of wind. The seatbelt snapped across my chest with a finality that resonated like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. The door slammed shut behind me with a resounding thud, amplifying the charged silence that enveloped us. Through the tinted glass, his glare was molten, fierce enough to ignite a fire, but I refused to let it intimidate me. I turned my head defiantly, indignation bubbling within me, my arms crossing tightly over my chest as he slid into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life beneath his command.

“You’re absolutely unbelievable, Roman!” I exclaimed, the heat of anger rushing to my cheeks, igniting my words like a match to kindling. “What on earth possessed you to act like that? You can’t just manhandle me like I’m some sort of object!”

His response was immediate, cutting through my indignation like a knife slicing through air. “You were about to ditch me and ride with Reese.” The tension in his voice was palpable, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the steering wheel with a ferocity that mirrored the storm brewing between us. “That’s why. How could you even consider it?”

I scoffed, my head snapping around to meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. “Excuse me for wanting to be with my own brother! Is that really such a crime?”

“Yes.” His voice was firm, the single word striking like a gunshot in the confined space of the car, devoid of humor or hesitation. His jaw tightened, muscles in his neck tensing visibly. “It’s a crime, Savannah. Don’t ever do that again.”

I was momentarily silenced, my mouth agape in disbelief. “Do what, exactly? Try to be comfortable in my own skin?” I shot back, my voice rising with indignation, fueled by the unfairness of his accusation.

“Don’t you ever storm off in anger.” His voice lowered, deepening with an authority that resonated in my bones. “I don’t care what the issue is. You will stand there, and we will talk it through. You can hit me, scream at me, break me down piece by piece if that’s what it takes. I’ll kneel and grovel if I have to. But don’t you dare let an issue fester. Is that clear?”

The weight of his command hung in the air, military and uncompromising. My heart raced, the sheer force of his words sending a tremor through me, igniting a mix of fear and frustration.

I turned my gaze to the window, arms folding tighter around myself, as if trying to shield my heart from the storm brewing inside. “I haven’t forgiven you, Roman,” I muttered under my breath, the words brittle and fragile, barely escaping my lips. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.”

There was a moment of silence, the only sound the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic passing of the road beneath us. When I dared to look back one last time at the house, it had already slipped away, swallowed by the distance. A sudden wave of fear washed over me, tightening my throat as I felt the weight of separation.

I must have disappointed him. What must he think of me now? I had shown clear disgust and anger towards a revelation that I had no right to feel that way about. What had I been thinking, allowing jealousy to rear its ugly head? Who the hell was I to lay claim to him?

I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t his wife. I had no rightful claim over him.

I was merely his best friend, someone he slept with when the mood struck him. And for me? I was not just his best friend who reveled in the intensity of our encounters; I was also someone who cherished the way he made me feel—how he ignited something deep within me that I had never felt before. I loved…

In the suffocating silence of the car, the tumult of emotions within me began to settle, revealing the stark truth I had been avoiding. I had built walls around my heart, fortified by jealousy and insecurity, yet Roman had stood unwavering, his presence an anchor in my storm. The realization that he accepted every part of me, even the broken pieces I tried to hide, filled me with a warmth that battled against the chill of my guilt. I had lashed out, blinded by my fears, but in that moment, I understood that my anger was misplaced. It was not Roman I needed to push away, but rather the shadows of my own doubt and self-loathing that threatened to consume me. The guilt weighed heavily on my chest, yet amidst it lay the flicker of hope that perhaps, with time, I could learn to forgive myself and embrace the love that had quietly blossomed between us.

As the landscape blurred past, I felt a shift within me—a fragile yet undeniable resolve. I was not merely a bystander in this relationship; I was an active participant, capable of shaping our narrative. Roman’s unwavering support had illuminated the path forward, and I was ready to confront my own demons. No longer would I allow jealousy to dictate my actions or cloud my judgment. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs, and turned to him, the weight of my unspoken feelings hanging between us like a fragile thread. “I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, the words trembling on my lips. “I need to learn how to trust… in you, in us.” As I met his gaze, the molten intensity softened, revealing the warmth of understanding. In that moment, I realized that love was not just about possession; it was about acceptance, vulnerability, and the courage to embrace the beauty of our imperfect journey together.