From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 190

**Chapter 115: I Need To See My Mother**

“Cancer?”

The word hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving, like a stone plummeting into the depths of a well. It reverberated within me, sending shockwaves through my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My ears buzzed, drowning out the world around me. This couldn’t be happening. It felt unreal, as if Dean had uttered a foreign phrase, one that my mind, despite its fluency, refused to comprehend.

I was submerged in a disorienting silence, as if I had been plunged underwater. Time slowed to a crawl, and everything around me faded into a muted blur. Dean’s lips moved, but all I could focus on was that solitary word echoing in my mind: cancer.

No.

Not her.

Not my mother.

“She can’t—” My voice faltered, choked by the weight of dread. I shook my head fiercely, as if my frantic motions could somehow reverse the reality of his words. “No. You’re wrong. That’s not—”

Dean’s gaze fell to the floor, his expression heavy with a sorrow that felt more crushing than his words. “Unfortunately, yes.” His voice wavered, tinged with an emotion I couldn’t bear to identify. “When the news about Chloe’s abandoned car broke, she collapsed. They rushed her to the hospital. That’s when they discovered it. Leukaemia.”

Leukaemia.

The mere sound of it turned my stomach into a tight knot, as if it were a physical entity coiling within me. I felt nauseous, the kind of sickness that rises with a force that threatens to spill over.

Tears began to stream down my cheeks, hot and relentless, blurring my vision. I hadn’t realized I was crying until the warmth of my grief became undeniable. They came in waves, the kind that made my chest ache and my throat constrict painfully.

Suddenly, everything fell into place in a cruel, twisted way. Her fatigue. The way she moved with a sluggishness I had mistaken for disappointment in me. The shadows that lingered beneath her eyes, dark and heavy.

“My mum’s going to die, isn’t she?” My voice was barely a whisper, broken and fragile, but the silence that followed was deafening, louder than any answer could ever be.

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he averted his gaze. His refusal to meet my eyes was confirmation enough.

A sob tore itself from my throat, so raw it felt like it scraped the very depths of my lungs. “Oh, God.” My stomach twisted violently, bile rising in my throat as I stumbled backward, covering my mouth in a futile attempt to contain my anguish.

This time, Dean didn’t reach for me. Perhaps he sensed that I might lash out if he did. When he finally spoke again, his voice was low, almost reverent. “Savannah.”

My heart stuttered in my chest.

“She wants to see you,” he continued, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a folded envelope and pressed it into my trembling hands. “She gave me this. She said… if you’d read it, maybe you’d come.” His voice cracked, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. “She hopes to see you one more time before—” He couldn’t finish the thought, and the silence that followed filled the space with an unbearable weight.