Chapter 7 Savannah #4
My hands curl into the cushions on either side of me. “I’m not okay with that. Not having any privacy—”
He turns sharply to face me. "We're getting married, Savannah. That means we don't have secrets. That means I have a say in who you spend time with, especially when it's another man who's clearly interested in you."
"Even if he is interested—which I'm not saying he is—that doesn't mean anything. I'm engaged to you."
“And does that mean anything to you?” The question is sharp. "Because lately, I'm not so sure. You're distant. You're distracted. You don't want to be intimate with me. And you're spending all your time with him."
"I'm spending time on my degree. On my research. On the things that matter to me."
"The things that matter to you should be us. Our future. Our life together." He moves closer, and I stand up abruptly, backing away. "I've been patient, Savannah. I've let you have this little academic adventure. But it's time to start thinking seriously about what comes next."
"What comes next is that I finish my degree."
"What comes next is that we get married. And then you come home to Charleston, and we start our real life together." His hand comes up to cup my face, and the gesture that should be intimate feels like a shackle. "This is a phase. A detour. But it's time to come back to reality."
He leans in and kisses me before I can pull away. It's possessive, demanding. His other hand slides down my side, pulling me against him, and I feel panic rising in my throat. "Thad, stop—"
"We're engaged, Savannah. We're going to be married. This is normal."
"I said stop." I push against his chest, and he pulls back, but only slightly.
"What's wrong with you?" His voice is frustrated now. "You used to be more affectionate. Is it him? Is he in your head?"
"This isn't about Romeo. This is about you not listening when I say no."
"I barely touched you."
"You shouldn't have touched me at all after I asked you to stop."
We stare at each other, and I see something in his eyes that frightens me. Not anger, exactly, but something colder. He’s looking at me as if he’s appraising me, like I’m suddenly flawed.
"You're changing," he says finally. "New York is changing you. This program, these people, this Romeo—they're putting ideas in your head. Ideas about who you are, what you want. But those aren't your ideas, Savannah. They're not who you really are."
"How do you know who I really am?" The words come out before I can stop them.
"Because I've known you your entire life. Because I know what's best for you, even when you don't."
The presumption of it—the absolute certainty that he knows me better than I know myself—makes me want to scream.
"I think I should leave," I say quietly.
"Savannah—"
“Please. I just need a little time. This has all been really fast. The engagement, the—” I break off, because I know to him, it doesn’t seem fast. He and my father decided on this much longer than I’ve had to acclimate myself to it. To him, this was inevitable, and it has been for a long time.
Thaddeus blows out a sharp breath. “I think you do need time to think about your priorities, Savannah. This isn’t the kind of behavior I expect from my wife, and it needs to be curbed before we marry.”
I’m on the verge of not being able to hold my tongue. I swallow hard, forcing myself to nod. “I just need some rest, Thad. That’s all.”
He studies me for a long moment. Then he nods. "Fine. But we're going to talk about this. About your priorities. About what you owe to me, and to your father." He picks up my purse and hands it to me.
I grab my bag and leave, enduring the cold kiss on the cheek that he gives me.
I should head back to my dorm, but I know Vivian will see how out of sorts I am and ask questions that I don’t want to answer right now.
So instead, I slip into the archaeology building, into one of the empty classrooms on the third floor.
It's quiet and peaceful. There are a few students downstairs in the studio, working on their projects, but mostly I have the building to myself. The room is empty, and I’m completely, totally alone.
And for the first time since the engagement, I break down.
All the pressure, all the conflict, all the fear and confusion and guilt come pouring out in great, gasping sobs. I sink into one of the chairs and put my head in my hands, and cry like I haven't cried since I was a child.
I’m supposed to want this life, but I don’t. I’m supposed to be thrilled to be marrying a man like Thaddeus, but instead, I feel like I’m in a prison. I have all these dreams, and I’m supposed to give them up because they're not practical or appropriate or what's expected.
I’m supposed to tell Romeo I can’t study with him anymore, and for some reason, that feels worse than just losing a good project partner. Because every time I'm with Romeo, I feel like I can breathe, like I'm real, like I matter. And every time I'm with Thad, I feel like I'm disappearing.
I cry over all of that, and I cry because I don't know how to choose myself when everyone else has already chosen for me.
I’m crying so hard that I don’t hear the door open or footsteps until a voice says, quietly, "Savannah?"
I look up, and Romeo is standing in the doorway.
His expression is concerned and careful. Like he's looking at something fragile that might shatter, or maybe a bomb about to go off. Like he doesn’t really know how to handle what he’s seeing.
I hate that he’s seeing me like this at all.
"I'm sorry.” I wipe at my face. "I didn't—I thought I was alone."
"I was in the library. I saw you come in here." He takes a step closer, then stops. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
The certainty in his voice makes me laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. "No. I'm not."
He moves into the room, but he doesn't come too close. He just pulls out a chair a few feet away and sits down, giving me space.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I can just sit here, if that helps."
Somehow it does help. Just having him here, not pushing or demanding, not trying to fix me. Just being here if I need him.
We sit in silence for several minutes. I hear the sound of students laughing outside, and a car going past somewhere on the other side of the building. I swallow hard, not quite looking at him.
“I’m sorry about lunch. And Thad. I’m sorry about… everything, I guess.”
"You don't have to apologize."
I still can’t look at him. "I do. You were defending me, and I just—I didn't know what to say."
"I shouldn't have said those things. It wasn't my place."
"Maybe it wasn't. But you were right." I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud to him. I don’t know him all that well. I don’t know if I can trust him with this, but it feels like I can. Like I have a real friend. "About all of it—him not seeing me. Wanting me to be someone I'm not."
Romeo is quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"
I nod, sniffling. "Okay."
"Do you love him?"
The question hangs in the air between us, and I know I should say yes. I should defend my engagement, my relationship, my choice.
But instead, I shake my head. “It’s not about love.
Our families have been planning this for so long, and he's everything I'm supposed to want. Successful, appropriate, from the right background. He’s my father’s choice.
That was the deal. My degree in exchange for marrying the man he wants me to.
” I wipe at my cheeks, brushing away the tears.
“This isn’t a love match. It’s an arrangement. I was supposed to be fine with that.”
I can see Romeo’s shoulders tense as I speak. He waits a moment, then says, "But?"
I swallow hard. "But I don't think I've ever felt like myself with him. I've always felt like I'm playing a role. Being the person he wants me to be, the person my father wants me to be. And I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of pretending."
"Then stop."
I look at him, and he’s serious. I shake my head. "It's not that simple.”
"Isn't it?"
"You don't understand. My father—he has expectations. Plans. And Thad's family, too. I can't just—"
"You can." Romeo leans forward, and his voice is quiet but firm. "Savannah, you can do whatever you want. You don't have to marry him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
The words take the air right out of my lungs. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.
No one has ever said that to me before. Not my father. Not Thad. Not anyone. Everyone in my life has told me what I should do, what I'm supposed to do, what's expected of me. But no one has ever told me that I have a choice.
"It's not that easy," I say, but my voice is shaking.
"I know it's not easy. I know there will be consequences. But Savannah—" He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and more serious than I’ve ever heard him before. "You're remarkable. You're brilliant and passionate and brave. And you deserve to be with someone who sees that."
"Romeo—"
I look at him, finally, and he’s staring at me with that same intensity that makes my heart start to race.
I think of the way he defended me to Thad, even though it wasn't his place, and made everything more complicated.
The way he's sitting here now, not touching me, not pushing me, just suggesting to me something no one else ever has. The possibility of choice.
I want to lean in and kiss him. The thought jolts me, makes me physically sit up straighter. I’ve never had that thought about anyone. I’ve never wanted someone like this before, felt drawn to them in a way that’s both physical and intellectual.
"I'm in trouble," I whisper.
Romeo’s forehead creases. "What?"
"I'm in serious trouble. I should go," I say, standing. "I need to—I need to think." I need to get away from him before I act on what I’m thinking and actually kiss him.
"Okay." He stands too, but he doesn't move toward me. "Savannah?"
"Yes?"
"Whatever you decide—I'm here. If you need to talk, if you need help, if you just need someone to sit with you in an empty classroom—I'm here."
The sincerity in his voice makes my eyes sting with fresh tears. "Thank you," I whisper.
And then I leave, before I can do anything that would get me in even worse trouble than I already am.