From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 68

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 43: The Same Hell**

“Me? Crying? No, I wasn’t.” The denial escaped my lips too quickly, my voice rising an octave, betraying the calm I desperately wanted to project. I hastily rubbed the sleeve of my sweater across my eyes, the coarse fabric scratching my skin uncomfortably.

As if by some magical force, I could erase the image of vulnerability she might have glimpsed.

“Something just got in my eye, and Roman was helping me get it out,” I added, trying to weave a narrative that sounded plausible.

Her brows knitted together, a clear sign of disbelief, yet she offered a gentle smile. “Mind if I sit?” She gestured toward the edge of the bed, a simple request that felt monumental in the moment.

“Of course.” The words spilled out in a rush, and my gaze flitted nervously to the meticulously arranged duvet. Thank heavens Roman had a habit of keeping his living space immaculate. If she had walked in to see the usual chaos I left behind, I would have felt even more exposed.

As she settled onto the mattress, it dipped slightly beneath her weight, the springs creaking softly in response. Her hands glided nervously down her thighs, once, twice—an unconscious gesture that mirrored her unease. “I wanted to apologize for the last time we spoke,” she said, her voice measured, each word seemingly chosen with care as if she had rehearsed this moment.

“I realized that some of my words were a bit harsh and very uncalled for, and… I really shouldn’t have said those things to you. Especially about—”

“No, no, no. It’s fine.” I interrupted sharply, my hand slicing through the air as if I could physically sever the connection to that painful memory. “I didn’t take it to heart. It’s really fine, Alyssa.” I dismissed her concerns with a wave, though inside, I was trembling with the weight of unspoken truths.

Her gaze bore into me, as if she were trying to peer into the depths of my soul. Those eyes, unwavering and intense, reminded me of our childhood—when she would search for every secret I tried to conceal.

“Sav, are you okay?”

I nodded, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I even threw in a casual shrug, the kind people use in sitcoms to convey a facade of normalcy.

But she wasn’t buying it. No, she could see through my flimsy act.

The atmosphere between us shifted, thickening like the air before a summer storm. Alyssa took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering the blow I hadn’t prepared for.

“I heard you crying from outside the door.”

Her words struck me like a bucket of icy water, shocking and disorienting.

Her brows furrowed, her tone low and careful. “Did Roman do anything? Did he say something? You can always talk to me.”

The room suddenly felt constricted, the air thinning around us. Heat prickled at my scalp, sliding down the back of my neck like a warning. My throat felt drier than the desert sun, parched and unyielding.

My palms grew slick with sweat, and I clenched them into fists to hide my trembling.

Still, I grappled with the need to fabricate a believable excuse.

“What? Crying? No… of course not.” My laugh came out brittle, an awkward sound that felt foreign to my ears. “I was sneezing. There was something in my throat—”

“Don’t lie to me, Sav. I’m your sister.” She leaned closer, her voice sharpening with concern. “I know you better than anyone.”

Her hand reached for mine, warm and reassuring, fingers wrapping around me with a quiet insistence that felt both comforting and terrifying.

“Talk to me. Please.”

I glanced down at our hands. Hers was steady, while mine trembled ever so slightly. I forced my gaze upward, inch by inch, until I met her eyes. The softness there wasn’t pity yet, but it was dangerously close.

I swallowed hard, unable to maintain the connection. My eyes slipped away, seeking refuge.

“Please, Sav.”

Disgust bubbled up inside me before I could contain it. “You spoke with him?”

“We met.” A smile broke across her face, bright and genuine, and the sight twisted my stomach into knots. “I just wanted to let him know that I wasn’t going to let him take my daughter away from me. I informed him that Roman was ready to back me up in court.”

A dark, ugly feeling coiled low in my stomach—a vile sensation that felt disturbingly like jealousy.

Its bitter, metallic taste lingered under my tongue, refusing to be ignored.

“Well, Chloe’s rebellion sort of brought us back together,” she continued, her smile wide and unguarded. “He actually had no intentions of taking her away. He just wanted to connect with us. And strangely, Chloe helped make that happen.”

I struggled to comprehend her words. “What are you saying?”

“He’s leaving his wife, Sav.” Her tone took on a dreamy quality. “She couldn’t give him what he needed most. So he’s divorcing her. He wants to be present in Emily’s life now.”

Bile rose in my throat, a sickening wave of incredulity. “Are you serious?”

“I haven’t said yes yet,” she added quickly, “but it’s good to know that he isn’t going to cause any problems—”

“Are you out of your mind?” My voice cracked, louder than I intended, and my chest heaved with the weight of my words. “Shouldn’t you be pressing forward with a lawsuit against this guy? You should make him pay through the nose for neglecting Emily for five years! That’s his daughter.” My pulse raced as I leaned forward, unable to contain my anger. “You shouldn’t be sitting here smiling as if everything is okay. And divorce? Come on, Alyssa, put yourself in her shoes. She’s a woman. Just like you.”

Alyssa flinched as if I had struck her, a quick, involuntary recoil. Her eyes shut briefly, and when they opened again, something colder flickered within them.

The next words she spoke were quiet but sharp enough to slice right through me.

“Did you put yourself in Monica’s shoes when you slept with her husband, Sav?”