This Isn’t Goodbye
Chapter 296: This Isn't Goodbye
Savannah
The moment I stepped into the living room, joy unfurled inside me so suddenly it almost stole my breath. For a heartbeat, I simply stood there, unable to move and unable to think—just feeling. The air smelled faintly of home, of familiarity and safety, of something warm and lived-in that I had missed more than I ever realized.
I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine this moment out of fear that I might never return here. And yet here I was—standing exactly where I belonged, alive, whole, and wrapped in a quiet, overwhelming happiness that made my chest ache.
It felt unreal. Like I might blink and wake up somewhere large, cold and unfamiliar again.
But I did blink. And nothing disappeared. This is real.
A fragile sense of peace settled over me, slow and steady. Piece by piece, the broken fragments of my life had found their way back together. The storm had not erased me after all. If anything, it had carved out space for something stronger to take root.
Maybe there really was light at the end of the tunnel.
I turned slightly and noticed Reese lingering near the edge of the room, as if he’d wandered into a place filled with ghosts only he could see. His posture was relaxed, but there was a guardedness in his eyes—like he was bracing for something that never came.
Did this house remind him of Lizzie?
“Thank you very much, Reese,” I said softly. The words felt inadequate compared to what I owed him. Gratitude swelled in my throat until it nearly became tears.
He offered me a warm, easy smile. “Anytime, Sav.”
The nickname caught me off guard. My lips curved before I could stop them. It was small and simple—but it meant something. A quiet acknowledgment of everything we had endured together.
Roman stepped forward then, his expression serious in a way that immediately shifted the atmosphere.
“I cannot begin to thank you enough,” he said to Reese, voice low but steady. “For taking care of Savannah. For protecting her. For protecting our child while I wasn’t there.”
Reese shrugged, as if deflecting weight he refused to carry. His hands slid into his pockets. “Well… technically, I didn’t have a choice. Someone had to step up.”
I laughed softly, but Roman didn’t.
“You did have a choice,” Roman insisted. “You owed us nothing. Especially not after how I treated you.”
Reese lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Not now.”
But Roman shook his head. He stepped closer until there was barely space between them. His voice dropped, thick with sincerity. “No. Now is exactly when it should be said.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched—not awkward, but heavy with meaning.
Then Roman placed a hand on Reese’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. And I hope… someday… you can forgive me.”
Reese’s expression softened, something unguarded flickering in his eyes. “I never held anything against you, Roman,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
The simplicity of the response seemed to undo Roman completely. Without hesitation, he pulled Reese into a firm embrace. “Thank you,” Roman murmured.
“Damn it,” Reese muttered, blinking rapidly as he pulled back. “You’re going to make me emotional.”
Roman laughed, the tension breaking at last.
I watched them with a warmth that spread through my entire body. The sight was unexpectedly tender—two men who had clashed, misunderstood, and endured more than either would ever admit, now standing in a fragile but genuine peace.
For the second time that day, it felt like the world was quietly stitching itself back together.
Reese cleared his throat and took a small step back. “Well… I should probably get going.”
A pang of sadness stirred in my chest at once. I crossed the room and stopped in front of him. “You’ll come back, right?” I asked. “You’ll visit us?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully, feigning uncertainty. “Hmm. Maybe. Depends… am I welcome?”
“Of course you are,” I said immediately.
Roman nodded. “Our home is always open to you.”
A wide grin spread across Reese’s face. “Careful. You might regret saying that.”
“We’ll take the risk,” Roman replied.
Before I could react, Reese pulled me into a brief, firm hug. It was unexpected but comforting.
“Take care of yourself,” he murmured.
“I will,” I said, pulling back. “You too.”
He turned to leave, but something tugged at me—an unfinished thought, a lingering concern. I reached out and caught his arm gently, lowering my voice.
“I hope you and Lizzie work things out.”
His smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. When he answered, his tone was light but the strain beneath it was impossible to miss.
“Don’t forget,” he said quietly, “my father already picked a wife for me.”
Roman heard him anyway. “He did what?”
Reese exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Arranged marriage. Lauren White. Senator White’s daughter. Do the math.”
“And you’re just going along with it?” Roman demanded.
“Absolutely not,” Reese replied. “But getting close to them… that has its uses. Sometimes the best way to dismantle something is from the inside.”
The casualness of his explanation didn’t lessen the weight of it. If anything, it made it heavier.
I felt an ache bloom in my chest. “What about Lizzie?” I asked softly.
He gave a small, crooked smile. “We’ll see how the story plays out.”
The answer unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. But I didn’t press. Some battles weren’t meant to be fought out loud.
Reese clapped his hands once, forcing brightness back into the moment. “Enough serious talk. I haven’t even agreed to this arrangement yet. Let’s not bury me alive before it happens.”
No one laughed.
He jerked his thumb toward the door. “I should really hit the road now. Stay safe, you two.”
Roman’s arm slipped around me. “This isn’t goodbye,” he said quietly.
Reese’s smile returned, lighter this time. “Don’t miss me too much.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
We followed him outside, the cool air brushing against my skin as we walked to the driveway. His car waited where he had left it.
“Drive safe,” Roman said.
Reese offered a mock salute before sliding behind the wheel. The engine started, low and steady and he lifted a hand in farewell as he pulled away.
I kept waving long after the car disappeared down the road. Only when it was truly gone did I lower my arm.
Silence settled around us—soft, peaceful and complete.
Roman’s presence beside me felt grounding in a way words couldn’t explain. His arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me gently against his side.
“What do you think about getting married tomorrow, my love?” he asked, voice warm with playful certainty.
I tilted my head back to look at him. The future no longer felt distant or uncertain. It was here. It was real. It was ours.
“I wouldn’t want to do anything else,” I said softly.
And for the first time in a very long time, I believed it completely.