From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 287

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

I vividly recalled that fateful night when I set the letter ablaze, the flames licking hungrily at the paper until it crumbled into nothing but ash. “I destroyed it,” I declared, my voice heavy with bitterness. “I thought I was shielding her from harm. If my father remained oblivious, perhaps the curse wouldn’t touch her. Maybe she would finally find safety, and I could be certain that it was him all along.”

Savannah’s gaze softened, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that both comforted and terrified me.

“But the next letter,” I continued, my heart sinking further into despair, “wasn’t from her. It came from her husband. He wrote to tell me that she had died during childbirth. Both she and her baby girl were gone—neither survived the night.”

Savannah gasped, her breath hitching in her throat as she pressed her hand to her mouth, her wide eyes shimmering with shock. “Oh my God,” she murmured, the words barely escaping her lips.

I turned away, desperate to shield her from the turmoil swirling in my heart. “So no, Sav. It’s not my father. It’s not mere coincidence. It’s something far more sinister. Something that disregards reason, love, or even science. Every woman in our family who has dared to try… has died trying.”

The silence that enveloped us was suffocating, thick enough to drown in. I moved to the closet, slipping on a pair of sweatpants to keep my hands busy, to anchor myself in the moment. “I’d give you anything in the world, my love,” I said, finally turning to face her again. “Anything. Except your death.”

Her lips trembled, a flicker of fear crossing her features. “Roman…”

“I mean it, Savannah. I would set every Blackwood property ablaze if it meant keeping you safe. But I refuse to place a child in you if it means I’ll have to bury you next.”

For a fleeting moment, she remained still, as if frozen in time. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she spoke words that sent the room spinning. “Forgive me, Roman.” The tremor in her voice, thick with tears, hung in the air like a fragile thread.

“What?” My heart constricted painfully in my chest, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

She was sobbing now—her shoulders shaking, fingers twisting the edge of the blanket as if it could provide her solace. I instinctively took a step toward her, but then something caught my eye from the corner of the closet.

Something small and white was partially obscured beneath her suitcase. My brow furrowed as I crouched down to investigate. The moment my eyes landed on it, time seemed to freeze.

A pregnancy test kit.

My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage like a drum. I stared at it, my breath hitching, as if willing it to vanish into thin air. But it remained, a stark reminder of the reality I had not anticipated.

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