From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 172

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TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time
by Serene L. Ard

And yet, as I inhale the sweet, intoxicating scent of her hair, allowing it to weave itself into my very being, a relentless question gnaws at the edges of my mind:

Does she love me back?

The uncertainty hangs heavy in the air.

I can’t quite grasp it.

Perhaps she perceives me merely as a friend, a protective barrier against the world’s harshness. Maybe my presence is simply tolerated, an unwelcome addition to her life’s intricate tapestry. Am I deluding myself, desperately clinging to fragments of affection and weaving them into something grander than reality?

The thought of being seen as just a friend feels like a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, deep down, I want to believe that she harbors some fondness for me, even if it’s just a flicker of warmth. That much feels undeniable.

But I sense something deeper. I notice the way her gaze softens, the way her defenses lower just a fraction when she looks at me. It’s in those fleeting moments that she allows me to glimpse her heart, to share the burdens she carries. When she opened up about her past, about the pain inflicted by Asher Kingston, she didn’t just share a story; she entrusted me with a piece of herself. In that moment, I became more than a mere observer. I became part of her journey toward healing.

That connection means something profound. It has to.

And because of that, I find solace at night, my mind finally able to drift into sleep.

Yet, her tale etched something into my soul, something enduring and unyielding. When she recounted the horrors inflicted upon her by him—what Asher Kingston had stolen from her life—I made a vow. I would obliterate him. I would erase his very existence from the fabric of reality, ensuring that even his shadow would never dare to cross paths with hers again.

I was ready to wage that war for her.

I would seek the vengeance she deserved.

I would dismantle everyone who had ever inflicted pain upon her, starting with him.

**Flashback**

Tracking down Asher Kingston had proven to be a straightforward endeavor. Men like him often wore their arrogance like a shield, believing themselves untouchable as they hid behind polished shoes, immaculate reputations, and the scent of expensive cologne. But beneath that façade lay nothing but cowardice. It only took a single thread pulled from the carefully crafted seams of his life for the entire illusion to unravel.

When I finally laid eyes on him, he was exactly as I had envisioned. Too slick, too pristine—he was the type of man who polished both his cufflinks and his conscience. He radiated principles, an image of professionalism that felt almost suffocating. But I was not fooled. I knew the darkness lurking behind those glasses, the malevolence that lay concealed beneath that perfectly styled hair. I understood the filth that resided beneath his crisply ironed suits.