Chapter 136 Crave The Distance Roman I didn’t answer her right away. I didn't answer Savannah’s question immediately, not because it was true or because I was guilty. But because of the extreme absurdity of the question. Sleeping with Penny? The fuck? Christ. It was outrageous. Unthinkable. It's disgusting. I can't even picture that without itching to throw up. I blinked at Savannah, sure I must’ve misheard her. My ears were ringing from how ridiculous it sounded. Out of all the things she could’ve accused me of, she chose that? Fucking Penny? I wouldn't ever do that. Even with a gun to my head. I'd rather you shoot me instead. The image alone made my stomach twist. Not that Penny was unattractive—she wasn’t in any way. She was the kind of woman men turned to look at. Sharp, bright eyes, that sort of easy charm that still managed to make everyone around her feel inferior. She was Reese’s type. My brother was once so badly into her I was certain he'd marry her despite their age difference. Sadly, that wasn't the case. It's a pity they ended the way they did. To each their own. But for me, Penny’s always been more like a guy friend in a dress. One of the boys. The person who could call me an idiot to my face without me taking offense. A sister, almost. The kind of person you protect, not desire. And now Savannah was standing there, trembling, eyes wide, accusing me of sleeping with her. I stared at her, at the way her hand gripped the glass like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “Sleeping with Penny?” I finally said, my voice rough. “Savannah, do you even hear yourself? That's wild.” Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer me.” “Because it’s insane!” I snapped, louder than I meant to. “It's an outrageous accusation. You sound crazy, Savannah!” She flinched. The glass slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, shattering into a dozen bright pieces.She gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my God. It’s true.” “What’s true?” “Oh my God, it is true!” she said again, her voice climbing, frantic. “You—you hesitated, Roman! You couldn’t even deny it right away!” I pressed a hand to my temple. A dull ache was already starting to throb behind my eyes. “Savannah—” “No! Don’t ‘Savannah’ me!” Her chest was rising and falling fast. “You looked guilty. You always look guilty when you lie.” I sighed, already feeling the exhaustion and migraine sink in at the same time. If this keeps up, I'll probably die before forty. But at least, Sav will end up being one of the wealthiest widows in the world. So something good would definitely come out of my demise. “I can't believe we're having this discussion.” I mutter, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. “What?” “Nothing,” I said, stepping out from the closet. “Savannah, I have never—” “Don’t say it!” she cut in sharply. “Don’t stand there and look me in the eye and lie again.”I stopped halfway to the nightstand, then turned back. “There’s nothing going on between me and Penelope,” I said, quieter this time. “We’re friends. That’s it.” She took a step toward me. Her foot nearly touched a piece of glass. “Don’t move,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “There’s glass everywhere. You’ll cut yourself.” She froze but didn’t drop her glare. “You think I care about glass right now?” “Yes,” I said flatly. “Because I do.” She didn’t move. Her eyes were burning into me. “Roman, I swear to God, if you don’t stop lying to me right now, I’m walking out that door. And you will never see me again.” That did it. I turned sharply, the air leaving my lungs all at once. “And where the hell would you go, Savannah? Huh?” “I’m not fucking destitute!” she yelled back. “I’ll figure something out.” Her voice was shaking, but the anger made it sound solid. I stared at her for a long second, jaw tightening. “You know what your problem is? You don’t just know when to stop. You can’t read the damn room, and you sure as hell can’t tell when someone’s telling you the truth!” Her lips parted. “What truth, Roman?!” she shot back. “You want me to play dumb? Pretend I didn’t just catch you red-handed?” “Red-handed?” I repeated, my voice breaking into disbelief. “You caught me doing what? Breathing near Penny? Sharing a bottle of wine? What exactly is the problem? Last time I checked she isn't my ex.” She laughed, running her hands through her hair. “I can't believe I fucking thought you'd be different.” She begins pacing. “You make me feel crazy, Roman. Maybe that’s what you want—so you can feel like the sane one when you're lying.” My heart shattered. “What?” She blinked hard. For a split second, I saw guilt flicker across her face. But it vanished. She doubled down. “Don’t twist this around.” “I’m not twisting anything. You’re making something out of nothing.” “Then why do you look so defensive?” “Because you’re accusing me of something vile!”She stared, eyes glistening. “You looked scared, Roman. When I asked you about her. You looked terrified.” “Because I knew it would come to this!” My voice cracked, finally. “I knew the second that question left your mouth, nothing I said would fix it. You’d already made up your mind.” Her expression faltered. “I knew,” I said again, quieter this time, “that you didn’t completely trust me. That you never really did.” “That’s not true.” “Isn’t it?” I asked. “You think I’m a liar. You think I’m some kind of man whore who can’t stay faithful for five minutes. Tell me that’s not what you think.” She swallowed hard. “I just—” “Say it, Savannah.” She didn’t. Instead, she whispered, “I just don’t want to feel like I trusted the wrong person.” The words hit me harder than her yelling ever could have. I stared at her, at the woman I’d loved enough to imagine a life with, and felt something inside me split.“Then don’t make me feel like I loved the wrong person again,” I said quietly. Her breath caught. And for a moment, neither of us spoke. The room was too still, too heavy. I turned toward the door. “Roman,” she said softly, her voice barely holding together. “Please don’t walk away.” I didn’t look at her. “I’m not walking away. I’m giving you space to think about what you just said. About what trust actually means.” “Roman…” She said my name again, smaller this time. It cracked something in me that I refused to let show. I opened the door. “Don’t follow me.” The click of the door closing behind me was too soft for what it felt like. ~~~~~~ I sat in the hallway for a minute, staring at nothing. My hands were trembling a little. Anger and hurt did that—twisted inside you until you couldn’t tell which was winning. I could still hear her faintly through the door, pacing, muttering to herself, glass crunching under her slippers. I almost went back in. Almost. But I didn’t. Instead, I went to the kitchen, grabbed a broom, and came back. When I opened the door again, she was sitting on the bed, head in her hands, looking small. She lifted her head as I stepped inside. “Roman…” “Step back,” I said quietly. She didn’t argue. She moved away from the glass and I crouched down and began sweeping. The sound of glass scraping across the floor filled the silence between us. She watched me, eyes red but still defiant. “You don’t have to do that,” she whispered. “I know.” When I finished, I dumped the shards into the bin and turned toward the door again. That’s when she grabbed my arm. And I could feel her fingers trembling. “Roman, please,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have said those things.” I didn’t respond. Her hand slid down, still holding on. “Please say something.” I finally looked at her. “You’re not sorry, Savannah.” “I am.” “No,” I said quietly. “You’re not. You just regret how it sounded.” Her eyes flashed. “Well maybe if you’d been honest from the start, I wouldn’t have had to ask.” That hit harder than it should’ve. “Honest?” I said, my voice low. “What honesty do you think I’m holding back, Savannah? What else do you need from me? You want me to swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t sleep with Penny? You want a signed affidavit?” “Then why did you look scared?” she shot back. I exhaled slowly. “Because I knew that nothing I said after that question would matter. Because I saw the look in your eyes, and I knew you’d already decided who I was.” She said nothing. Her silence was an admission and a wall all at once. I stepped back, her hand falling from my arm. “Roman—” I shook my head. “You don’t believe me. And honestly, I don’t even know if I care enough to convince you anymore. I'm tired, Savannah. This is draining.” Her breath hitched. “That’s not fair.” “Neither is being accused of something I didn’t do.” The quiet between us stretched thin. Then finally, I said, “You should probably clean up the floor again. Just to be sure.” She stared at me like she couldn’t recognize me. “That’s all you have to say?” “What else is there to say?” Her eyes glistened. “You could at least tell me you still love me.” I hesitated. For a second, something inside me wanted to break. But I bit it down. “If you have to ask,” I said, “then maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.” Her lips parted, but nothing came out. I turned toward the door again. This time, she didn’t stop me. I opened it, stepped through, and closed it quietly behind me. No slamming. No final words. Just silence. The kind that feels heavier than shouting ever could. I went to the guest room and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. I could still feel the weight of her voice in the air—accusing, trembling, rabid. She thought I’d slept with Penny. Penny, of all people. I shuddered at the thought of fucking a woman who shared the same womb and face with my late wife. I let out a breath that sounded like a laugh but wasn’t one. There was a time when I would’ve gone back in there, held her until she calmed down, reassured her until she believed me. But something in me was too tired this time. You can’t keep proving your loyalty to someone who’s already decided you’re permanently guilty. So I lay back, staring at the ceiling, the sound of my own thoughts filling the silence. Maybe tomorrow we’d talk again. Maybe not.But tonight, the distance between us felt final. And strangely, I craved the distance.