“Hey,” I murmured as I reached her, the clapping still echoing behind us. “Are you okay?”
Her arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to contain her shivers. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”
The lie slipped from her lips so easily, it made my heart ache.
I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders, ignoring the curious glances from bystanders.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
We didn’t exchange another word as I guided her toward the exit, my hand firm on her back, determined to shield her from the chaos behind us.
Halfway there, my instincts urged me to glance back. Our eyes met-Chloe stood on stage, surrounded by her family, her smile still plastered on her face. But her gaze was locked onto us, her eyes narrowing at Savannah under my jacket, at the way I was leading her away.
It wasn’t jealousy I saw in her expression. It was something colder, more sinister-a warning, perhaps? A threat?
Dean remained motionless, his glass of champagne untouched, a glazed look in his eyes.
I clenched my jaw and turned away, ushering Savannah through the doors.
Outside, the night air hit us, cool and sharp. I opened the car door for her, steadying her as she slid inside, the weight of the night crashing down on her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said again, her voice quiet, almost fragile.
I shut the door and circled around to the driver’s side, my knuckles still aching from how tightly I had clenched them.
As I settled into the seat beside her, I couldn’t shake the haunting image of Dean’s face, Savannah’s pale shock, and Chloe’s venomous smile.
Something was unraveling here-something bigger than a cruel announcement or a staged humiliation. There was more to this, a darkness lurking just beneath the surface.
And I was determined to uncover the truth before it swallowed Savannah whole.
**Roman**
The journey back home felt eerily serene, as if the world outside had muted itself in respect for the heavy silence that enveloped us.
Savannah occupied the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the blurred landscape beyond the glass, as if it held secrets far more captivating than the reality we were escaping. Her profile was a mask, inscrutable and tense, her lips pressed together in a way that suggested she was trying to contain a storm within. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, a barrier against whatever emotions threatened to spill out.
I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out, to take her hand in mine and assure her that she didn’t have to drown in the silence. I wanted to tell her that it was okay to feel a mix of emotions about Chloe and Dean expecting a baby. But I knew her too well; if I pushed her too soon, she would deflect with humor, hiding her true feelings behind a facade.
So I kept driving, my jaw clenched and my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel, the tension in the car thick enough to cut. When we finally pulled into the driveway, the quiet of our home felt almost suffocating.
I unlocked the door and ushered her inside. The house was enveloped in an unnatural stillness, devoid of life or sound-no laughter, no clattering dishes, just the oppressive silence wrapping around us like a heavy blanket.
Her shoulders remained tense beneath my jacket, and her eyes seemed to look past me, lost in their own thoughts. I kept my hand on her waist as we ascended the staircase, guiding her with gentle pressure. She allowed my touch, but I could sense that she was still holding herself back, not ready to let me in.
Once we reached our bedroom, she slipped out of my jacket, folding it neatly over a chair before she sank onto the edge of the bed. Her fingers nervously smoothed the hem of her dress, a repetitive motion that seemed to ground her.
I crouched down in front of her, my fingers gently lifting her chin so that our eyes met. “Talk to me, Savannah. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head, a quick, almost instinctual denial. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t do that,” I urged, my voice sharper than I intended, the frustration leaking through. “Don’t shut me out. You looked like you’d seen a ghost back there.”
Her lips quivered, struggling to maintain their composure. “I’m fine, Roman. Really.”
But I could see through her facade. Every line on her face screamed the opposite; she looked as though she had weathered a fierce storm, battered and weary.
“Is it because Chloe and Dean are having a baby?” I asked cautiously, my heart racing as I watched her reaction.
Her body stilled at my question, a flicker of something-fear, sadness?-crossing her eyes before she quickly masked it. “No,” she replied firmly, her voice steady. “That’s not it.”
She stood up abruptly, cutting me off mid-sentence. “I just… I need to clear my head, Roman.” She smoothed her dress again, a gesture of anxiety. “I’m going for a swim.”
Before I could protest, she slipped into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me in a whirlwind of confusion and concern.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She was shutting me out, and it felt like a knife twisting in my gut. Every instinct screamed at me to break down the door and demand the truth, but I forced myself to remain patient.
Minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, the bathroom door creaked open.
Savannah emerged, wrapped in a white bathrobe, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, her skin glowing, freshly washed of the day’s worries. She looked ethereal, more beautiful than I had ever seen her, yet she avoided my gaze, gliding past me like a specter, the soft sound of her footsteps the only indication that she was even there.
I followed her, my heart racing as we descended the staircase, crossed the polished marble hall, and stepped through the glass doors that opened to the backyard.
The night air hit me like a refreshing wave, cool and sharp against my heated skin. I watched as Savannah approached the pool, her fingers deftly undoing the knot of her robe. It slipped from her shoulders, pooling on the stone tiles like a discarded memory.
And then she slipped into the water.
A tightness gripped my chest.
She submerged herself, and when she resurfaced, her bare skin glimmered in the moonlight, the water embracing her as if it were alive. She was a vision of beauty, both captivating and devastating, like something conjured from the depths of a dream meant to ensnare my very soul.
My body reacted instinctively; heat flooded through me, rushing to my groin as my pulse thundered in my ears.
Savannah. My Savannah.
Without a second thought, I yanked off my shirt, kicked off my shoes, and dove in after her.
The water slapped cool against my overheated skin, jolting me back to reality. But as soon as I broke the surface, I saw her, and nothing else mattered.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.