Chapter 3: Breakfast with the Enemy

I didn't sleep that night.

Not because of the couch creaking every time Roman shifted in the living room.

Not because of the diamond ring on my finger that felt heavier than it should.

But because of one name.

Dean Archer.

By the time morning came, I had already imagined every possible version of how this could go.

None of them ended well.

You're overthinking, Roman said from the kitchen.

I turned toward him, arms crossed.

I'm preparing.

You're spiraling.

There's a difference.

Barely.

He handed me a cup of coffee exactly how I liked it.

No questions asked.

No reminders needed.

I hated how comforting that was.

We need to leave in ten minutes, he added.

I know.

My eyes drifted to the ring again.

Still there.

Still real.

Still fake.

Savannah, Roman said softly.

Hmm?

Look at me.

I did.

Today, he said, stepping closer, you don't react to him.

I'm not planning to.

You don't look at him like he matters.

He doesn't.

Roman's gaze held mine a second longer.

Good, he said. Because if he does, he'll see it.

I swallowed.

And what do I do instead?

He reached for my hand, his fingers sliding naturally into mine.

You look at me.

Simple.

Dangerous.

Effective.

My heart beat faster.

Got it, I whispered.

And just like that, we were no longer pretending.

We were performing.

My parents' house in New Hope looked exactly the same.

Perfect.

Welcoming.

Deceptively peaceful.

Which meant chaos was already inside.

The moment we walked in, my mother rushed toward me.

Savannah!

Then she stopped.

Her eyes dropped to our hands.

Interlocked.

Then to the ring.

Oh my God, she whispered.

And then she screamed.

Within seconds, the entire house exploded with movement.

Let me see!

Is that real?

Roman!

I knew it!

I froze.

Roman didn't.

His grip tightened slightly, grounding me.

Morning, he said calmly.

I forced a smile.

Hi, Mom.

She grabbed my hand, practically shaking.

This ring is stunning!

Thank you, Roman replied smoothly.

My dad walked over, smiling.

About time, he said.

Roman chuckled.

I didn't want to rush something important.

That line felt too real.

Too intentional.

Where's Chloe? I asked.

In the dining room, my mother said. With Dean.

There it was.

The moment.

Roman squeezed my hand once.

I squeezed back.

We walked in together.

And then I saw him.

Dean Archer.

Standing near the window like nothing in the world had ever touched him.

Same face.

Same presence.

Same effect.

His eyes found me instantly.

Everything inside me went still.

Then his gaze dropped.

To my hand.

To the ring.

And something in his expression broke.

Savannah, he said quietly.

My name.

The way he used to say it.

No.

Not today.

I turned.

And looked at Roman.

Just like we planned.

You okay? Roman asked softly.

Perfect, I said.

Then I smiled at him.

Dean noticed.

Of course he did.

Chloe walked over, smiling.

Everyone! Look who's here!

Her eyes landed on the ring.

For a second, jealousy flashed.

Then it disappeared.

Wow, she said sweetly. You weren't kidding.

I rarely am, I replied.

Roman stepped forward.

Good to see you again, he said.

Dean's gaze shifted to him.

Congratulations, Dean said.

Thank you, Roman replied calmly.

Dean looked back at me.

You moved on fast.

I tilted my head slightly.

So did you.

Silence fell.

Chloe clapped her hands.

Okay! Let's eat!

We sat down.

And somehow, it got worse.

Because Roman didn't let go of my hand.

Not once.

Under the table, his thumb brushed against my skin.

Slow.

Natural.

Intimate.

My pulse reacted instantly.

I glanced at him.

He didn't look at me.

He didn't need to.

Across the table, Dean was watching.

And this time, there was no hiding it.

Regret.

Clear.

Sharp.

Too late.

And for the first time since last night,

I wasn't the one losing control.

He was.