From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 61

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 39: Conspiracy Theories**

Another day, another absurdly frustrating event.

Of all the trials I’ve faced in my life, nothing has tested my patience quite like witnessing Dean glide around, embodying the ideal fiancé to Chloe.

The air was alive with the soulful sounds of a Bluetooth speaker, blending a nostalgic medley of Motown and classic rock—Marvin Gaye’s smooth melodies seamlessly transitioning into the rebellious riffs of The Rolling Stones, followed by the catchy choruses of ABBA, and finally landing on the electrifying energy of Tina Turner. Everyone was lost in the rhythm, swaying to the music.

Every now and then, Aunt Thelma would join in, her hips moving to the beat as she balanced yet another platter of burgers, making her way to the table. Alyssa was in her element, dancing and belting out lyrics that clearly brought back memories of her first love, Troy, who had affectionately dubbed her ‘Dancing Queen’ back in their high school days. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought; it was a sweet, albeit bittersweet, reminiscence.

But that moment of lightness was fleeting.

Dean spun Chloe around, and the collective ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from everyone present shifted their focus entirely to them. I let out a groan, the sound escaping my lips for what felt like the millionth time today, as I downed the contents of my soda can in one swift motion.

Why do they always have to steal the spotlight?

Damn it.

Dean’s laughter rang out when Chloe whispered something in his ear, and I felt my fingers clench around the can, the metal crumpling under the pressure.

I had already crushed at least two cans, and here I was, on my third.

The sight of his happiness conjured a hundred dark fantasies in my mind—each one more violent than the last—about how I could rid myself of him right here, right now, in front of my family, at this ridiculous barbecue.

Forget this wedding.

Everyone around me was grinning, laughing, as if the earlier confrontation had never happened. It was as if they had all practiced the art of pretending so thoroughly that I almost wanted to give them a standing ovation.

Dean’s family was here too—Bethany, Franklin, Eli, and the rest of his insufferable clan—each one contributing to the picture-perfect, smiling facade.

—

How utterly perfect.

A barbecue dedicated to the world’s most enviable couple. I could feel the bile rising in my throat.

The backyard was a haze of summer heat, thick with smoke and the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat that would cling to our clothes long after the day was done.

Chloe, normally averse to such olfactory offenses, was all sunshine and laughter today, doing TikTok dances with Emily—clearly for the views. Emily, however, was more interested in her Barbie doll than the choreography, fumbling through the steps while Chloe flashed her perfect veneers at Dean every time he came over to dab her with a napkin.

What a whipped fool.

As for me? I had parked myself in a corner, next to the little tent where Alyssa used to sneak her boyfriends in during high school, fully embracing the role of the bitter maid of honor.

At this point, I could have donned a witch’s hat and wielded a broomstick, and it would have suited my part just fine.

Roman, on the other hand, blended effortlessly into the crowd—one hand casually tucked into his pocket while the other held a Heineken. He was deep in conversation with my dad, Dean’s dad, and Uncle Jace, regaling them with tales of fishing trips and ludicrous court cases. The way he charmed even those who were supposed to be his adversaries was nothing short of diabolical.

Even Dean’s mother and younger brother were fawning over him. It was almost nauseating.

When he caught my gaze, he shot me a wink from across the yard, and my stomach twisted, a familiar sensation that reminded me of being a naive sixteen-year-old.

I quickly looked away.

“There you are. I’ve been searching for you,” came a voice that I didn’t need to turn to recognize.

Dean.

“What do you want?” I snapped, my eyes fixed straight ahead. I was afraid that if I met his gaze, I might just lose control.

“You’re not joining the fun, Sav?” His voice dripped with smugness, as if he relished in my discomfort.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I shot back, still refusing to look at him, fearful that if I did, I might just commit a crime before the first toast was even made.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify