From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 60

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**by Serene L. Arden**

I cast a cautious glance in his direction. “You’ve… seen it?”

Roman remained steadfast, his expression unyielding, yet I noticed a subtle tension in his jaw, a tightening that hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface. He maintained eye contact, his gaze unwavering, as if daring me to look away.

“I had to know what he was using,” he replied, his voice steady but edged with an intensity that made my heart race. “What he had. I watched it once. Never again, Sav. I wouldn’t have if it weren’t absolutely necessary.”

A slow, shaky exhale escaped my lips, the air leaving my lungs in a rush as a wave of emotions crashed over me. My skin prickled, a strange battle of heat and cold waging beneath the surface, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

In that moment, I felt like a puppet stripped of its strings, vulnerable and laid bare. I felt exploited. I felt violated. Most painfully, I felt betrayed.

This was someone I had once trusted deeply, someone I thought I knew inside and out. A moment that should have been shared in privacy, a sacred space just for us, had been invaded.

But Dean had to do this. He had to strike at the very core of my being, where it hurt the most.

A scream clawed at my throat, desperate to break free. I wanted to hide, to retreat into the shadows, to crawl into a dark, forgotten hole and never emerge—not to face Roman, and certainly not anyone waiting downstairs.

What did I want? I didn’t even know anymore.

How could I possibly confront Roman now, knowing he had witnessed that part of me? The thought sent shivers down my spine.

The image of him watching—seeing me in my most vulnerable state, unaware and exposed—burned itself into my mind like a brand. Shame coursed through me, hot and corrosive, twisting my stomach in knots until I feared I might be sick.

Yet beneath that shame lurked something darker, something that felt utterly out of place.

Want.

The realization that he had seen me, that he had absorbed it all, and chosen to carry that burden in silence pressed against something primal within me, awakening desires I had never anticipated.

My breath came in shallow gasps, each one a reminder of the weight of this moment.

“Why?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling, fraying at the edges like an old fabric. “Why not tell me straight away? Why the games?”

Roman’s expression was inscrutable, but I could feel the heaviness of his gaze. “Because it would have shattered you coming from me. You would have spiraled out of control. And I need you focused. Not broken.”

His words struck me like a physical blow, and my throat constricted. “You think I’m broken now?”

“I think,” he replied slowly, his tone measured, “that you possess a strength you may not fully recognize. But even the strongest steel can bend under the wrong kind of fire.”

His declaration hung between us, a heavy truth that settled into the silence like a stone.

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