From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 233

**Chapter 139: SAVANNAH**

**Remian**

I find myself caught in a relentless battle between two agonizing forces: the poison that seeps through my veins and the silence that stretches between Savannah and me. If I’m being honest, the latter feels like it will claim my life far more swiftly.

I’m propped against the doorframe, straining to catch the sound of her footsteps as they glide past toward the hallway. But they don’t come. Instead, the stillness of the house wraps around me, suggesting she remains in the living room, likely snuggled up on the couch, her phone in hand, pretending I’m nothing more than a distant memory.

A wave of frustration crashes over me. I should go to her, burst in there, and unleash my pent-up anger at her maddening behavior. I should shout at her, let her know just how infuriating she is, and then, in a reckless moment of passion, pull her close and kiss her until we both lose consciousness from the lack of air.

Yet, every time I envision that scene—storming in with fury and desperation—I can’t help but also see the other possibility. The one where she looks up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, voice quaking as she implores me to leave her be. Or worse, she tells me she thought I was different, that I wouldn’t hurt her like this.

So here I remain, leaning against this cold wooden door, feeling utterly foolish as that haunting image paralyzes me.

The truth is, the absence of her presence is a physical ache, a gnawing pain that settles deep within my chest.

I miss her voice, the sweet melody of her laughter, the way she always carries the scent of something warm and comforting. I miss my girl—more than I ever believed I could miss anyone.

But I know this distance is what she needs right now. She’s trying to piece together everything—me, us, the chaotic whirlwind that we have become together.

And I’m doing my best to respect that.

Still, hearing her voice tonight—even if it was to spark yet another argument—filled me with a foolish kind of joy. I could have grinned like a child, if only I didn’t know how dangerous that smile could be. She’s a beautiful firecracker, that one. I can already tell she’ll set my world ablaze one day, and I’ll probably be grateful for every singed edge of my heart.

Since this fight erupted, I’ve been a shell of myself. My mind feels disoriented without her laughter echoing in it. Each minute that passes in silence gnaws at me like a relentless curse.

The people at work have taken notice. I can see it in their eyes. They tread carefully around me, whispering in hushed tones, quickly averting their gazes the moment I step into the building.

I’m certain they’ve pieced together that something’s amiss at home. And if anyone is audacious—or foolish—enough to inquire, I’d fire them before they could finish their question.

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