From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 98

**Chapter 64: I’m Filthy**

“Should I delve deeper?” Roman inquired, his tone carefully measured, as if he were treading on fragile ground.

I managed a nod, though my throat felt parched, each heartbeat echoing in my ears like a warning bell. The anticipation of what lay ahead sent a shiver down my spine, stirring up old wounds I had painstakingly bandaged over the years.

“What could my father have possibly shared with you?” I whispered, already sensing the answer lurking in the shadows of my mind.

Roman’s gaze remained steady, unwavering, as he let his words fall into the stillness between us like heavy stones, each one sinking into the depths of my consciousness.

“Your father mentioned he had to resign from his position after you became pregnant by your sister’s dance teacher’s husband.”

For a fleeting moment, the world around me ceased to exist. My heart plummeted, my breath caught in my throat, and I felt as if the ground beneath me was crumbling away. Hearing him articulate it so bluntly, so devoid of emotion, was akin to being sliced open by a knife I had long convinced myself was dulled by time.

“He’s lying.” My voice trembled, but I pushed it to rise above the fear. “That’s not how it went down.”

Roman’s expression remained inscrutable, though I noticed a slight furrow in his brow as he processed my words.

“Asher was my professor,” I continued, my thoughts spilling forth in a torrent. “Long before Chloe ever hired Monica as her ballet instructor. Whatever transpired between Asher and me… it happened before Monica even entered the picture.”

He tilted his head, his calm demeanor unsettling. “Monica is his wife?”

I nodded, my heart heavy with the truth. “Yes. And she despises me more than anyone else on this planet.”

“And your sister…?”

I rolled my eyes, bitterness lacing my response. “Chloe has always known about Asher and me. That’s precisely why she brought Monica into the fold. It wasn’t about dance lessons; it was a calculated move to watch me squirm, to see me unravel. She wanted to twist the knife until I bled out in front of everyone. And thanks to her, everything fell apart.”

As soon as the words escaped my lips, a wave of regret crashed over me. I sounded defensive, almost shameless, like a girl trying to justify the wreckage she had caused herself. What must Roman think of me now? Just a brazen little harlot?

But he leaned back, his jaw tightening. “It seems your sister is relentless in her pursuit of making her disdain for you known.”

“Chloe has always been that way,” I muttered bitterly. “She covets everything I possess while insisting that I envy her life. As if that makes any sense. I wouldn’t touch whatever she’s had her hands on with a ten-foot pole.”

The atmosphere shifted, heavy with unspoken truths.

Roman’s next inquiry sliced through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

“What happened to the baby, Savannah?”

I froze, the question hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

The room tilted, memories crashing over me with the ferocity of a tempest. The sterile scent of antiseptic from a hospital. My father’s stern voice, resolute and unyielding. The suffocating weight of helplessness that pressed against my chest, threatening to crush me.

My hand instinctively drifted to my stomach, and I felt the sting of tears pooling in my eyes.

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