Chapter 15 Emily's Dad “Are you crazy?” I snapped. “Oh, honey, it’s called raising awareness. God forbid I use my platform for something good. If Bridal Luxe sees this, they'll be covering my wedding for sure.” Roman finally looked up, jaw flexing. “Turn that shit off. Now.” Chloe tilted the phone toward her fake-teary face and forced a sob. “This is a family tragedy. And I—” The phone was snatched from her hand mid-sentence. Alyssa stood, eyes red, hair falling messily around her face. “You want tragedy?” she hissed. “You want attention, Chloe?” “Alyssa—” The crack of the slap silenced the room. Chloe’s head snapped to the side. The silence after was thick and ringing. Alyssa hurled the phone against the wall. It shattered into pieces like her restraint had.“Get. Out.” “You’re overreacting—” “OUT!” Roman stood. Lizzie jumped. Even Dean moved as Chloe stormed out, one hand cradling her cheek and eyes glistening—not from pain, but rage. Dean moved to pick up the broken pieces of Chloe’s phone. “That was too far, Alyssa. She loves Emily in her own way.” “Posting trauma online isn’t love,” Alyssa snapped. “It’s PR.” she brushed a tear away, still engaged in a heated staring contest with him. The rest of us stood there, awkwardly scattered, tension thick in the air like humidity. I crossed my arms, the hospital air cold against my damp skin. Roman was pacing now, jaw grinding, muttering to himself. “You okay?” I asked him quietly. He stopped and looked at me. “She could’ve died, Savannah.” “I know.”“No, you don’t know. No one was watching her. No one saw her go in and that's the scary part. She’s just a kid.” His voice cracked slightly, and he turned away, raking his hand through his wet hair. Dean stepped forward. “She’s fine now. That’s all that matters.” Roman’s head snapped toward him. “You think this is fine? What if it was your kid?” Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk to me like that.” “Oh, I’ll talk however the fuck I want. You were watching Savannah the whole time. That’s where your focus was.” My heart stopped. “What the fuck, man? I wasn't even there.” “As if that made a difference.” “Roman,” I said sharply. Dean took a threatening step toward him, but Lizzie jumped between them. “Enough! This is not the time or place for your macho shit. A little girl almost died.” Dean punched the wall before storming off in the same direction as his fiancée. Roman exhaled sharply and walked away, disappearing down the hallway. I hesitated, then followed. I found him near the vending machines, hands braced against the wall, head bowed. “You didn’t have to say that,” I said softly. “To Dean.” He didn’t turn around. “You think I care?” “I think you’re angry.” “I am angry,” he growled, then finally turned to face me. “I told you this was a bad idea. All of it. Coming here. Staying with your family. Pretending we’re… this.” He gestured to the both of us, one hand on his hip. “We’re not pretending,” I said, even though we were. Weren’t we? “Please don't be mad. I don’t like when we fight.” He moved closer. His eyes pinned me. “You kissed me back.” “Because you kissed me first.” He didn’t deny it. “I’m losing my fucking mind, Savannah. And you’re playing games with Dean like none of this matters.”“Let's not talk about him.” I cupped his cheek. “You're frustrated, and I get it. But don't lash out at everyone because of it. It was a mistake.” “A costly one.” He spat. “You're gonna make Alyssa feel worse.” “That was never my intention.” I flattened my hand on his chest and smiled. “Look, I get it, you’re wound up. You need a release. Maybe even someone temporary—” His eyes darkened. “What are you suggesting?” I lowered my voice. “Since you can't get the usual down here, we can find someone else—” “Fucking hell, Savannah.” He blew a breath. “What? I'm trying to help you. That's what friends are for.” “I don't need a prostitute.” “You clearly do.” He stepped forward. “We're not talking about this when a child almost died.” “You're not her father, Roman.” He raised a brow. “You don't remember? Daddy's here? What was that about?” “That meant nothing.” His voice cracked mid-sentence and he looked away. “I was caught up in the moment.” “I'm not stupid, Roman.” “Don't put words into my mouth, Sav.” I stepped back. “Don't try to control who I talk to.” “And you don't get to tell me who to fuck.” Only the sound of our breathing could be heard. “I'm sorry. I’m not trying to control you, Sav. I’m trying to protect you.” My chest tightened. “From what?” “Stop playing these games with Dean. Let's just get this wedding done with and get back home.” “No.” I stepped back. “We agreed to this. You agreed to help me do this. You said you wouldn't half-ass this. What's going on?” His eyes were dark. Darker than I’d ever seen. “You think I wanted this? That I planned this? I walked out there and saw you in that fucking bikini and I—” he clenched his fists. “Fuck, Savannah.” I swallowed hard. “You’re my best fucking friend,” he said hoarsely. “I shouldn’t be imagining what you taste like.” My thighs clenched involuntarily. I bit my lip and looked away. His words slammed into me like a wave. My knees weakened, but I held my ground. “Then stop imagining.” He stepped closer, now just inches away. “I can’t.” “Roman,” I hissed, eyes darting toward the hallway doors. “Don’t.” His lips parted but before he could speak, Lizzie appeared down the corridor. “They’re asking for Emily’s emergency contacts. Alyssa just stepped out. Savannah, they might need you.” Roman stared at me a beat longer, then looked away. I followed Lizzie, but I could still feel his stare burning into my back. “That looked tense, everything okay?” She asked on our way back to Emily's room. I nodded. “Yeah. Just about earlier. Roman's a softie at heart, he's just a little shaken up. That's all.” My voice was light, almost teasing. “We're lucky he was here to help. I don't want to imagine what would have happened if he wasn't.” Guilt settled in heavily on my chest. A part of me questioned if it was a good idea to deceive my entire family like this. But before I could say anything, Alyssa stumbled in, phone clutched in shaking fingers, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s here,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Emily’s dad. He’s downstairs.” I blinked, blinking away the haze of Roman. “What?” Alyssa’s sob hitched. “He said… he said he’s going to take Emily. That I’m unfit. That he has proof.”