From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 205

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 205**

The accusation cut through the air like a razor, leaving a deep wound that throbbed in silence. It was far from the truth, yet I wasn’t prepared to reveal that to her. The truth felt like a fragile secret, one I was not ready to share.

“I couldn’t look at her,” I finally murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, “because she wasn’t mine.”

With a swift shake of her head, she challenged me. “You keep repeating that. But what evidence do you possess to back it up?”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, devoid of humor. “Evidence? What kind of evidence does anyone ever possess in this family? Secrets and silence are our currency, that’s all we’ve ever known. But I knew. You can sense it in your very bones when something that was meant to belong to you is taken away. It’s a gut feeling, a haunting awareness.”

Her voice quivered, small and fragile. “So, you believe my sister was a liar?”

“I know she was human,” I replied with a heavy heart. “She made a mistake. And I paid the price for it.”

“You think losing her was your punishment?” Penelope’s voice dripped with bitterness.

“No,” I corrected her softly, “living without her was the true punishment.”

Those words hung in the air like a heavy fog, finally silencing her. For a moment, the only sounds that filled the room were the soft, rhythmic drip of water from the faucet and the uneven cadence of our breaths, each one a reminder of the tension that crackled between us.

She turned away from me, her shoulders trembling, but I couldn’t discern whether it was anger or grief that drove her movements. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

“You genuinely believe that, don’t you?” she said, her back still to me, voice laced with disbelief. “That she was unfaithful. That you’re the victim in all this.”

“I never claimed to be the victim,” I muttered, my voice low and strained. “I merely stated that I wasn’t the one who killed her.”

She pivoted to face me, her eyes blazing with a fervor I hadn’t anticipated. “But you shattered her spirit long before that car ever did. You made her feel small, Roman. You made her loathe herself.”

Her words struck me like a barrage of small stones, each one finding its mark.

“You think she never called me, crying on those lonely nights?” Penelope’s voice rose, filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “You think I didn’t hear the cracks in her voice when she insisted she was fine? You broke her, Roman. You broke my sister.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of every unspoken truth pressing down on my chest, suffocating me. “Then perhaps you should hate me,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I already do.”

The air seemed to leave my lungs in a rush. She had struck the one truth that I could never voice aloud.

I looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, her face mirrored Dahlia’s. I didn’t know anymore if I was speaking to Penelope or to Dahlia. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs like a caged animal desperate to escape.

“Get out,” I commanded, my voice steady but laced with urgency.

“No,” she replied defiantly, standing her ground.

“Penelope, don’t force my hand. Don’t make me throw you out.”

“You can bury your guilt all you want,” she said, taking a step closer, tears shimmering on her lashes. “But I see the man who destroyed her every time I look in the mirror. And I still see her standing in front of me.”

Something inside me snapped, quietly yet irrevocably.

I took a step toward her, close enough to see the faint red rim around her eyes, the evidence of her pain. My voice was deceptively calm, too calm. “If your innocent sister hadn’t betrayed my trust, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Each word was deliberate, venom wrapped in restraint. “We wouldn’t be here, caught in this web of despair.”