From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 67

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

I grasped his arm firmly, determination coursing through me. “Yes, Roman. You’re going to help me with this.”

His response was swift, tinged with disbelief. “You heard me right. That’s a ludicrous plan you’re trying to set in motion. Your sister’s wedding is just three days away. Do you even comprehend the chaos you’re about to unleash?”

Frustration bubbled within me. “Why are you reacting like this? Why do you care so much?”

“Because you’re not thinking clearly, Sav.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the air. “You’re consumed by anger and jealousy, and it’s blinding you. Your ex, the one who broke your heart, is still going to walk down that damn aisle and slip that ring onto your sister’s finger.”

His words felt like a physical blow, sending a wave of nausea through me. “And guess what? You’re going to stand right beside her, plastering on a smile as if you’re genuinely happy for her, even while you’re plotting her untimely demise. That’s the reality you’re facing.”

He took hold of my shoulders, not with force but with a firm grip that demanded my attention. His gaze was intense, dark and unwavering, as if he was searching for a glimmer of understanding in my eyes. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded, feeling the weight of his authority settle heavily within me.

“Words, Savannah,” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” He drew me closer, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, a gesture that felt like a definitive end to our conversation. “I’m just looking out for you. The sooner that wedding takes place, the sooner you can close that chapter for good. And after that, we’re catching the first flight out of New Hope and leaving all of this behind.”

I nodded again, though a heavy truth loomed in my chest like a storm cloud. He had no idea that I wasn’t ready to close any chapter. Dean had unraveled me long before Chloe ever got her claws into him, and no amount of “moving on” could rewrite the history we shared.

“Tomorrow is her rehearsal dinner,” Roman continued, his voice steady and authoritative. “You’re going to smile, act as if everything is normal. You might even catch the damn bouquet if she decides to toss one. You’re going to be happy for your sister. Understood?”

The words hung in the air, and I struggled to find a response. How could I explain to Roman that the thought of watching Dean build a life with my sister felt like a slow, agonizing bleed?

I just can’t do it. I never really got over him, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. I lied to myself, telling myself that I had moved on, that I hated him for sending that thoughtless text and ending things as if our time together meant nothing—only for him to pursue my sister right after.

If I opened my mouth, I would spill the truth: that witnessing Dean marry Chloe would feel like watching my heart shatter in slow motion. So instead, I chose silence.

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