From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 119

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

For a fleeting moment, the thought flickered in my mind like a candle struggling against the wind. The idea of turning back, of unraveling the intricate web of lies that had ensnared me, danced tantalizingly before me. I could stand before everyone assembled in that grand ballroom and lay bare the truth: Roman and I were merely the closest of friends, nothing more. This elaborate charade had been nothing but a shield, a way to protect myself from the swirling chaos of wedding week—a week that felt more like a descent into madness than a celebration of love.

But then my gaze landed on Chloe. There she stood, a storm of fury radiating from her very being, her eyes blazing with an intensity that could have set the world aflame. In that moment, I understood that she didn’t deserve the truth. None of them did.

Roman, ever attuned to my inner turmoil, sensed my hesitation. His fingers brushed against mine, a grounding touch that sent a surge of reassurance coursing through me before he clasped my hand firmly in his. With a gentle but determined tug, he began to lead me toward the exit, guiding me away from the stifling atmosphere that felt like a noose tightening around my throat.

Just as we were about to escape the suffocating confines of the ballroom, a voice pierced through the tension like a knife. “Do you really have to go?”

It was my mother.

I paused, caught off guard by the softness in her tone, a desperate plea that I hadn’t expected. “Stay, Savannah. Please.”

I blinked, struggling to wrap my mind around her words. After everything that had unfolded—the confrontation between Roman and Dad, the punch that had echoed like a thunderclap through the room—she wanted me to remain? Shouldn’t she be urging me to flee this chaotic mess?

With a heavy heart, I offered her a sad smile, one that carried the weight of my disillusionment. “There’s no place for me here anymore, Mom.”

Her shoulders sagged, a clear sign of her own resignation, her defeat palpable in the air between us.

“Dad has made it abundantly clear that only Chloe matters,” I continued, my voice tinged with bitterness. “So I’m going back to where I’m valued. I won’t set foot in New Hope ever again.” A sigh escaped my lips, a mixture of guilt and bitterness swirling within me. “Take care of yourself, Mom. You look exhausted.”

Her lips trembled, and for the first time that night, I saw the carefully constructed façade she wore begin to crack.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she rushed forward, enveloping me in a desperate embrace. The familiar scent of roses and vanilla wrapped around me, and I could feel her arms tighten as if she feared I would vanish into thin air.

“I’m so sorry for everything,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I hope you can forgive me someday.”

As we pulled apart, I managed only a faint smile, a reflection of the turmoil within. I understood the weight of her words, but the truth was, I hadn’t forgiven her—not for the betrayals she had committed, nor for the role she played in the deep wounds I carried. Perhaps I never would. A mother shouldn’t betray her daughter; she shouldn’t become a pivotal figure in the pain that marred her child’s life.

Turning away, I waved goodbye to Lizzie and Alyssa, catching a glimpse of Emily’s wide eyes before I faced forward, my heart heavy with unspoken farewells.

Roman took the lead, and I followed, my head bowed as we stepped out of the oppressive ballroom. The night air hit me like a sudden splash of icy water, invigorating yet harsh. Roman shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders without a word, a silent gesture of comfort.

“Thank you,” I whispered, clutching the fabric tighter around me, grateful for the warmth.

The drive back to the house should have been steeped in silence, but it wasn’t.

Roman had queued up my Taylor Swift playlist, each track filling the car with familiar melodies that had once brought me joy. I understood his intentions—he was trying to lift the weight that hung heavily in the air, coaxing me to sing along, to remind me of who I was before this night spiraled into chaos.

But I couldn’t bring myself to sing, not even to my favorite song. My throat felt raw, and my chest ached with an unbearable heaviness. I let the lyrics wash over me, mere background noise that failed to penetrate the fog enveloping my thoughts.

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