Ryan came home late from work, still fuming from his father’s deception, only to find something worse. His dad stood in Ryan’s room, broom in hand, staring at the floor. The sacred rose pot—broken. Scattered soil. And within it, the ashes of his mother now mixed with trash.
Ryan’s world tilted. He dropped to his knees, digging through the dirt with shaking hands, heart hammering as grief and fury collided. His father apologized, said it was an accident while opening the window. But some things couldn’t be undone.
The roses, once symbols of rebirth and memory, were now broken fragments in the bin. For Ryan, it wasn’t just a plant—it was the last piece of his mother, defiled by the same man who’d once abandoned her.
Larry tried to explain, his voice cracking. He was lonely. The house felt like a tomb. He missed Rose. He missed Ryan. But Ryan could only stare at the ruins of something beautiful, unsure if anything between them could ever grow again.
Outside, the city buzzed like nothing had changed. But inside that small apartment, something sacred had been lost. What came next, Ryan didn’t know. But this time, forgiveness wouldn’t come as easily as May roses.