Divorced CEO's Forgotten Wife Strikes Back (Riley and Bryce) novel Chapter 2

**Dreams Refuse Gravity by Leo Arden Knox**

**Chapter 2: Bringing Mom and Dad Home**

Riley’s POV

The wind howled fiercely today, a relentless force that seemed to claw at my skin. I couldn’t tell if it was the grit of sand stinging my eyes or the overwhelming sight before me that caused the burning sensation in my nose, but I could feel the tears threatening to spill over.

Standing at the entrance of the military base, I was met by a solemn sight: two neat rows of soldiers, standing at attention beneath the fluttering flag, their postures as rigid and proud as the tallest pines in a forest. Their eyes, unwavering and filled with respect, seemed to bore into my very soul.

Commander Nicolas Parker, clad in a crisp military uniform that spoke of discipline and honor, approached me with deliberate steps, cradling an urn in his hands. Each step he took felt like a march toward my heart, heavy with grief.

My eyes stung, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. The two people who had nurtured me, who had loved me unconditionally, were now confined to memories, mere whispers of their presence trapped within this wooden box.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, a strange sense of peace washed over me like a gentle tide.

When they had answered the call to serve, joining the overseas peacekeeping forces, they had already prepared themselves for this ultimate sacrifice. It was a part of their oath, a promise made with unwavering loyalty to their country—a faith they had lived by and, ultimately, died by.

“Riley,” Nicolas spoke, his voice deep and resonant, laced with a profound sadness. “When we recovered your parents’ remains, they were… together. The overseas team made sure to cremate them side by side. They’re both in here.” He gestured toward the urn, his expression solemn.

“That’s good,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady as I cleared my throat. “They loved each other fiercely in life. Now they can be reunited in death. That’s how they would want it.”

Nicolas regarded me with an intensity that made me feel seen, and then he executed a sharp military salute, a gesture steeped in tradition and respect.

Standing tall, he held the urn firmly with both hands, presenting it to me as if it were the most sacred of treasures.

His voice rang out clear and strong, cutting through the air like a clarion call. “The heroes’ spirits live forever!”

The soldiers behind him echoed in unison, their voices rising like a choir, cutting through the clouds with their powerful declaration. “The heroes’ spirits live forever!”

In that moment, the dam broke, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Yet, I held my head high, returning their salute with a dignity that felt like armor against the world.

“I, Riley Anderson, am bringing my parents home!” I proclaimed, my hands trembling as I reached out to take the urn.

The weight of the box was substantial, almost numbing, as if it contained not just ashes but the very essence of my past.

But amidst the heaviness, a warmth began to fill the empty space in my heart.

I whispered softly to myself, “Mom, Dad, please forgive your terrible daughter. I let you drift for three long years, but now I’m finally bringing you home.”

******

After the ceremony concluded, Nicolas’s gaze swept over the gathering crowd before settling back on me.

He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Where’s your husband? Didn’t he come with you?”

I lowered my eyes, feeling the weight of his question press down on me like a heavy fog. “He’s… busy. He couldn’t make it,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

A warm, heavy hand landed gently on my shoulder, offering solace.

“Riley, if anyone gives you trouble, don’t suffer in silence. I’m not too old to have your back,” he said, his tone reassuring. He paused for a moment, searching my face. “If things aren’t working out out there, come back. The base gates are always open for you. This will always be your home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion as tears threatened to spill again.

After bidding farewell to Nicolas, I carefully carried the urn to my car, securing it in the passenger seat as if it were the most fragile treasure.

I fastened my seatbelt, the familiar click resonating in the silence, and turned the engine over.

Even though I knew no one would respond, I spoke softly to the air that filled the car. “Let’s go home, Mom, Dad.”

The drive home was surprisingly smooth. All green lights, no traffic—a rare streak of good fortune that momentarily allowed me to forget the weight of Bryce’s broken promise.

I held the urn close as I walked toward the front door of our villa, the familiar sight both comforting and painful.

Before my fingers even grazed the handle, sharp voices sliced through the air, piercing my ears like daggers.

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