Riley's POV
I sat beside Michael, quietly taking in the room while he caught up with his grandmother, Elizabeth, as I learned. His parents, Ferdinand and Eleanor, sat across from us.
He leaned in when she spoke, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. His fingers tapped once against the polished wood of the table when she said something that clearly amused him. There was a lightness in him that felt rare, unguarded.
And I couldn’t help but notice the contrast.
He had greeted his father with polite stiffness, the kind of tension that filled the space between people who used to be close but hadn’t been for a long time. His mother got a nod at best, barely a glance. But his grandmother? That was different. His expression softened around her. And Zara? He’d ruffled her hair with
