Chapter 8 - The House We Built Ourselves
Phedra and I eventually bought land.
Small.
Nothing impressive.
We designed a house.
Two bedrooms.
Wide kitchen.
Big windows.
A garden.
When construction began, Phedra laughed.
“After all that money you sent for a house, we're building another?”
“This one's ours.”
She smiled.
“Both names?”
“Both names.”
Every document.
Every account.
Every decision.
Both.
We reviewed bank statements together.
Not because we distrusted each other.
Because transparency became part of love.
Phedra returned to school.
She trained as a patient advocate.
Eventually, she worked with cancer patients navigating treatment funding and family coercion.
She was good.
Not because suffering automatically makes someone wise.
Because she studied.
Trained.
Listened.
Her story informed her work.
It didn't replace expertise.
I loved that about her.
I returned to Canada briefly.
Not four years.
Three months.
Phedra came for six weeks.
She hated winter.
“You lived here?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“For money.”
“You're stupid.”
“Apparently.”
Eventually, I left metalworking.
My settlement and savings helped me retrain.
I opened a small fabrication business back home.
Nothing huge.
I hired eight people.
Then fifteen.
Godfrey never worked for me.
Important boundary.
He asked once.
I said no.
He accepted it.
More growth.
Selina grew older.
At sixty-eight, she developed diabetes complications.
Godfrey called.
I almost didn't visit.
Phedra said:
“Do what lets you sleep.”
Not:
She's your mother.
Not:
You have to forgive.
Choice.
I visited.
Selina cried when she saw me.
I stayed twenty minutes.
Then thirty.
Eventually an hour.
Before leaving, she asked:
“Can I see Phedra?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
No argument.
That was the first reason I visited again.
Over years, our relationship became limited.
I never gave her financial access.
Never left Phedra alone with her.
Never pretended the past hadn't happened.
But we spoke.
May you like
Sometimes healing is not reunion.
Sometimes it is being able to sit in the same room without lying.
