From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 282

**Chapter 164: She’s An Advi**

My foot wouldn’t stop its relentless tapping against the floorboards, a nervous rhythm that had persisted for what felt like an eternity—twenty minutes, to be precise. Each tap seemed to echo the relentless patter of rain against the windows, a sound that had become an unwelcome backdrop to my swirling thoughts. Earlier, Roman had called, his voice low and weary, informing me that he would be late due to some never-ending contract signing that seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

This wasn’t out of the ordinary, but tonight, my heart raced with a ferocity that mirrored the thunder rumbling outside. Each raindrop that struck the glass reverberated through me, a reminder of the tempest brewing both outside and within.

From the living room, the eerie sounds of a horror movie wafted down the hallway—Lizzie’s choice, naturally. It struck me that the house had transformed into more than just a shared space for Roman and me. Reese was now a part of our lives, and Lizzie had claimed the couch as if it were her throne.

And where did that leave me? I found myself in our bedroom, a place that should have felt safe, with three unopened pregnancy test strips shoved beneath the suitcase in the closet. They lay there, hidden away like evidence of a crime, an unspeakable secret.

I hadn’t dared to take the tests yet. A part of me quaked with fear, while another part hesitated, unsure if I truly wanted to confront the truth at this moment. If I was indeed pregnant, there would be no turning back, no erasing the reality that would unfold. And if I wasn’t… well, perhaps relief would wash over me, only to be tainted by guilt for feeling that way.

But what terrified me most was Roman’s potential reaction.

What if he yelled? What if he accused me of trapping him, of deceiving him, of forcing a future upon him that he wasn’t ready to embrace? I had glimpsed the flashes of his temper before—uncontrolled, sharp, and dangerous enough to make me tread carefully. In my mind, the safest course was clear: don’t test. Don’t know. Don’t face it. At least, not yet.

Yet, another part of me, a smaller and more honest part, was almost certain. The mood swings, the late period, the disquieting feeling in my body—it all pointed to something I couldn’t ignore. My instincts screamed that the tests would yield a positive result. And if that happened, everything—absolutely everything—would change. For better and for worse.

I was still mired in that tumultuous sea of thoughts when the sound of the door clicking open broke through my reverie.

Roman stepped inside, his shoulders tense and a tie dangling loosely from his hand, his shirt slightly damp from the rain. He looked utterly drained, yet when his gaze landed on me, a slow smile unfurled on his lips, as if the very sight of me lifted some weight from his weary heart.

“My love,” he breathed, the words spilling from him like a sigh of relief, as if they had the power to lighten the burdens he carried.

I pushed my rising panic aside, quickly wiping my palms on my thighs, forcing myself to appear composed. “Hey,” I managed, my voice almost a whisper.

In just three strides, he closed the distance between us, capturing my lips with his in a kiss that was both fierce and unexpected. It was as if he needed to remind himself that I was real, that we were still here—together. I gasped, but he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss until all I could taste was him. Just him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm and comforting. “One more second in that blasted discussion and I would’ve added arson to my résumé,” he joked, a hint of irritation still lingering in his voice.

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