Ryder’s POV
“Wow, Dad... you’re really going all out for tonight,” I said, a bitter edge of annoyance coating my words as I watched him adjust the dining table arrangements. “You’re throwing a dinner party in the exact house we built with Mom.”
My dad paused, letting out a sharp sigh. “Not now, Ryder. Go upstairs and dress up nicely. I want tonight to be perfect.”
My jaw tightened into a hard frown. “Of course, Dad. It’ll be absolutely perfect.”
I turned on my heel and headed upstairs toward my old bedroom, annoyance thrumming beneath my skin. I hadn't stepped foot in this house in years. Walking through these hallways felt eerie; every corner was steeped in memories of my mother. My eyes drifted to the framed canvas paintings lining the walls. Mom and I had painted every single one of
