From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 289

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 167: Let’s Be Practical**

Savannah

“Roman, please, just look at me,” I murmured, my voice cracking as tears streamed down my cheeks. Each sob felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs, while the silence hung heavy between us—a chasm that seemed to widen with every passing second.

But he remained unmoved. There he sat, a statue carved from grief, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond me, as if I were invisible, as if the very sight of me was too painful to bear. That unyielding silence cut deeper than any harsh word he could have uttered, leaving me feeling utterly shattered.

With trembling fingers, I reached out, my desperation palpable. I grasped his hand and pressed it against my cheek, letting my tears mingle with the warmth of his skin. “Please,” I implored, my throat raw and aching. “Roman, just look at me.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned his head.

His eyes, usually so vibrant, were now bloodshot, the red veins stark against the deep green. He appeared utterly drained, as if life itself had been siphoned from him, leaving behind only a hollow shell. I felt the faintest twitch of his hand in mine, and it struck me like a lightning bolt—he was trembling.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a gravelly whisper, thick with something that wasn’t entirely anger, but rather an unbearable sorrow. “You deceived me. I trusted you, Savannah.” The words fell from his lips like stones, heavy and unyielding. He swallowed hard, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “You used me. You took advantage of me. You hurt me.”

Each of those accusations sliced through me like a knife, shredding my heart into a million pieces. I shook my head fervently, tears cascading down my face. “No, no, Roman, please. I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean—please forgive me.”

He closed his eyes tightly, the tension in his jaw evident as he fought to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. When he spoke again, his voice softened, but the weight of his words hit me like a freight train. “The damage has already been done. How can I trust you again, Savannah?”

I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat, panic flooding my senses. “No. We’re not sure yet, Roman. We don’t even know anything for certain. It’s just an observation. I could be wrong—I might not even be pregnant.” My voice trembled, desperation dripping from every syllable. “It’s just stress. That’s all. I swear, that’s all it is.”

He let out a bitter laugh, one that felt foreign coming from him. “How many times have I made love to you since you took matters into your own hands?”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off balance, scrambling for a number that eluded me. “I—I don’t know,” I stammered, my mind racing. “I can’t count.”

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