From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 123

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 123**

“Please, Savannah, don’t utter another word. You might just fracture the delicate remnants of what we have as friends.”

Oh, dear heavens, this was an utter catastrophe.

“You know,” his voice cut through the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind, low and tinged with a playful tone, “I’m beginning to feel a bit concerned. Your thoughts are so loud that I can almost hear them bouncing around in the space between us.” He cast a fleeting glance my way, his eyes alight with mischief, before focusing intently on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with each passing moment.

A knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach, my fingers fidgeting nervously in my lap. How in the world was I meant to initiate this conversation? My throat felt dry and constricted, and as I wrestled with the right words to convey my feelings, I finally managed to stammer, “Roman… did I… did I disappoint you?”

As soon as those words slipped out, a wave of humiliation crashed over me. What a foolish and pitiful question to voice!

His brows furrowed in confusion, a deep frown settling on his handsome features. “Disappoint me?” he echoed, his voice softening, disbelief evident in every syllable. “What are you saying, my love? You could never let me down.” He spoke gently, as if comforting a child who had just awakened from a terrifying nightmare.

My heart plummeted, a heavy weight anchoring in my chest. I found myself staring down at my trembling hands, forcing a shaky breath to steady my racing thoughts. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did back there. I’ve made far worse mistakes in my life. You know that. And you’ve never cast judgment on me for any of it. You didn’t lash out. You didn’t… you didn’t look at me like I was tainted.” My voice quivered, cracking under the burden of my emotions. “But tonight, I judged you. And I had no right to do that.”

He turned to me, his eyes wide with surprise, clearly taken aback by my confession. “No, my love. You should never apologize for how you feel.” His voice was steady, almost reverent, as if he were sharing a sacred truth. “Those emotions you expressed are a part of you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I don’t want you to stay silent. I don’t want you to bottle up your feelings just to shield me. I crave all of you—your honesty, even when it cuts deep.”

The sincerity in his words began to unravel the tight knot of anxiety in my chest. My lips parted in shock, breath hitching painfully in my throat. How could he be so calm, so graceful, always the steadfast anchor while I felt like a tempest of fire and chaos?

“I suppose that makes me a terrible person, then,” I whispered, leaning against the cool glass of the window, my breath fogging the surface.

He chuckled softly, almost in disbelief. “You’re not a terrible person, Savannah. You’re far too pure to be that.”

I shot him a bewildered glance, my frown deepening. “Pure? Roman, I lost that a long time ago.” My voice dropped to a bitter whisper. “I can’t even remember the last time I felt pure.”

Sixteen. Nineteen. Somewhere within that haunting blur of years.

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