From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 45

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

Roman let out a soft chuckle, the kind that seemed to vibrate through the air between us. “That’s the spirit,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing undertone that made my heart flutter.

His gaze locked onto mine, deep and inscrutable, as if he was searching for something hidden beneath the surface. I half-expected him to break the silence, to draw me closer, to call me anything that might shatter the tension suffocating the space around us. But instead, he just stood there, a statue of contemplation, his silence echoing my own uncertainty.

I shifted my weight, tugging at the hem of my dress, trying to pull it down a little more to shield myself from his piercing eyes. It felt as if I were exposed, laid bare under his scrutiny. I couldn’t shake the thought that Lizzie would surely pick up on the charged atmosphere that had unfolded earlier. The air felt thick and electric, too palpable for her to ignore.

He raised his phone, breaking the spell. “Do you still want the waffles? I’ll place an order,” he offered, his tone casual, yet I could sense the underlying current of something more.

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, please.”

With a quick nod of acknowledgment, he turned and climbed the stairs, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke. I found myself struggling to tear my gaze away from him, captivated by the way he moved, confident and assured.

Lizzie cleared her throat beside me, her demeanor shifting as she turned to face me fully. “Spill,” she commanded, her tone playful yet laced with a seriousness that made my heart race.

There was a teasing glint in her eyes, but I could sense an undercurrent of concern, as if she could see through the carefully constructed facade I was trying to maintain.

I turned slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, attempting to deflect her probing. “Spill what?”

She rolled her eyes, a gesture that seemed to say, “Come on, you can’t fool me.” “I’m not blind, and I’m definitely not a virgin. I know something went down. It’s literally written all over your face. But why are you acting like something’s wrong?”

She paused for a moment, letting her words hang in the air, before suddenly grabbing my left hand with a fierce grip.

“Oh, thank God. It’s still on,” she exclaimed, her breath escaping in a relieved huff as she spotted my engagement ring. Roman’s engagement ring.

I glanced down at the ring that had become a part of me, a strange comfort that I had grown accustomed to. At times, I even forgot it was there. But in that moment, it felt like a weight, a heavy burden pressing down on my chest.

“Look, Sav,” she said, her voice softening, “I don’t know what’s going on, but running away from it won’t solve anything. Trust me on that.”

“I know,” I replied, swallowing hard, the lump in my throat refusing to budge.

“Roman’s pretty chill, and that’s a good sign. He’s not running from anything—definitely not from Chloe, and certainly not from Dean.” She added with a smirk, “We are Harts, Sav. We don’t run from chaos.”

I blinked, pulling back slightly from her intensity. “That sounds too serious, Lizzie. We’re not preparing for battle.”

“With Chloe, everything is a battle. I’m seriously considering attending her wedding rehearsal with a dagger strapped to my thigh. Just in case,” she quipped, her laughter ringing out like a bell.

For a moment, I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. The absurdity of the situation lightened the heaviness in my chest, if only for a fleeting moment.

“Do you need a hug, Sav?” she asked, her eyes softening as she shot me a sideways glance.

I nodded, the simple gesture feeling like a lifeline.

I could feel his eyes on me, the weight of his gaze pressing down like a physical force. He stood there, rooted behind me, as if battling the urge to pull me into his embrace once more.

I took off the ruined dress, standing bare before him, no longer caring if he was watching. What was the point of hiding anymore?

I walked over to the dresser, picked up a shirt that wasn’t mine, and tugged it over my head. It smelled like him, a comforting scent that wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Everything in this room seemed to carry his essence.

“I shouldn’t have let it happen,” I whispered, the admission slipping out before I could stop it.

Roman remained silent, his eyes still locked on me.

The words tumbled from my lips, unbidden and raw. Not because I truly believed them, but because it was easier than confessing the truth—that a part of me still craved him, still longed for his touch.

“It was a mistake,” I murmured, the weight of my own words settling heavily in the air.

In an instant, he crossed the room, his long strides closing the distance between us. He grasped my hand firmly before I could retreat again. “Stop,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent.

“I can’t stop,” I replied, the truth clawing its way to the surface.

He stepped closer, invading my space, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you keep running from what’s right in front of you?”