From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 217

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 217**

**Chapter 131: Nightmarish Day.**

“Should I drop you off at your place or… at your fiancé’s?” Dean inquired, his voice tinged with a careful politeness that felt almost forced.

Outside, the rain had eased from its earlier fury, transforming into a gentle patter against the windshield. “Let’s stop by my place first,” I replied, my eyes glued to the rivulets of water racing down the glass, each drop competing for the finish line. “I’ll be staying at Roman’s tonight, so I need to grab a few things.”

The silence hung heavy between us. Roman still hadn’t responded to my texts, and a knot of worry began to unfurl in my stomach. What if something was wrong?

Dean nodded, his expression unreadable. “Alright. I’ll—”

Before he could finish his thought, his phone erupted with a shrill ring, jolting me from my reverie. I winced, the sound slicing through the quiet like a knife.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, his eyes darting to the caller ID. I could see the color drain from his face, leaving behind a pallor that sent a shiver down my spine. “Great,” he mumbled under his breath, almost as if trying to convince himself. “Just great.”

He abruptly pulled over to the curb, the engine sputtering to silence.

I chose not to pry about the call. After the day we’d endured, I wasn’t in the mood to delve into Dean’s complications. Instead, I leaned back in my seat, allowing the rhythmic sound of the rain to envelop us as he answered the call.

“Good evening, sir.” His voice shifted, adopting a stiffer, more cautious tone that felt foreign to me.

There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words.

“No, I’m in Philadelphia at the moment.”

Another pause, this one stretching longer, thickening the air with tension.

“What? I drove here! How does that equate to fleeing? I’m literally with her sister right now! I took her to see their mom in the hospital!”

I stole a glance at him, though I kept my head still. He was tense, his shoulders rigid, jaw clenched, and his fingers were gripping the steering wheel as if it were a lifeline.

“Of course, I understand,” he replied after a beat, his voice a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “But this is outrageous. All of this is insane because I did nothing to her—”

His voice cracked, and I could sense the panic rising within him.

“What do you mean?” His tone sharpened, a mix of confusion and fear. “That’s a lie! Someone’s clearly setting me up! I wasn’t even home yesterday! I was with Savannah Hart! I drove from Pennsylvania to Philadelphia—” He abruptly stopped, his expression shifting. “Does my mom know about this?”

Fear seeped into his voice, palpable even from where I sat.

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