From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 419

Chapter 419

Chapter 237: You’re Dying

Savannah

A

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All my life, I’d heard people say that someone was their entire life.

I’d heard it said with smiles, with laughter, with a kind of certainty that always made me tilt my head and wonder.

I used to think it was an exaggeration–something people said when they didn’t know how else to explain love. How could one person become your whole world? How could your entire existence revolve around a single heartbeat that wasn’t even your own? I never believed

1. it.

Not until Roman.

Not until I fell in love so deeply, so recklessly, so obsessively that there was no part of me left untouched by him. Not until loving him rewired something fundamental inside my chest. He didn’t just enter my life–he became it. He became my entire life.

My world. My sun. My moon. My stars. The gravity that held everything else together.

And now?

Now my entire world was bleeding out on the floor in front of me, clutching his chest, struggling to breathe like the air itself was

betraying him.

And it was my fault.

I shot him.

The realization ripped through me with a violence that stole the breath from my lungs. A sound tore out of my throat–raw, animal, unrecognizable–as my body moved on instinct alone.

I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled toward him, the pain in my belly screaming in protest, but I didn’t care. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything except the sight of Roman collapsing under his own weight.

“No. No. No. No,” I chanted, the words tumbling out of me like a prayer gone wrong. “No–please–God–no.”

I don’t remember how long it took me to reach him. I don’t remember how my body even managed to move when every muscle felt like it was tearing itself apart.

All I knew was that one moment he was standing–and the next, I was staring down at him as his blood soaked into the floor beneath us, warm and horrifyingly real.

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Chapter 419

“Roman,” I sobbed, my voice breaking apart. “Roman, please-”

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My hands were shaking so badly I could barely function, but I pressed down on the wound on his chest anyway, desperate, useless. The blood soaked through my fingers instantly. Too much. There was too much of it.

He groaned in pain, his body jerking beneath my touch.

“I’m here,” I cried. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

I cradled his head onto my thigh, brushing my fingers through his hair as tears blurred my vision. His skin was starting to look pale–too pale–and his breathing was shallow and ragged, each inhale sounding like a battle he was losing.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry, Roman. I didn’t mean to. I never meant to hurt you. I would never ever do anything to hurt you-”

“Shhh,” he murmured weakly, his voice strained but gentle. “I know, my love. I know.”

And then–God help me–he smiled. A faint, crooked thing that shattered what was left of my heart.

“Thank God,” he breathed, “I already called an ambulance.”

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