Chapter 3 Chapter 003

Tito’s POV

My chest squeezed. “Are you real?” I whispered before I could stop myself.

She laughed, soft and a little shaky. “Guess you’ll have to taste it to find out.”

I set my bag down slowly and sat at the table. It felt surreal seeing it cleared for the first time in years. No empty bottles. No scattered ashtrays. Just plates, cutlery, and the smell of sizzling vegetables.

When she placed the food in front of me, my throat tightened. It wasn’t fancy—just pasta tossed in sauce—but it was warm, cooked, and made with intention.

I took a bite. My eyes burned. “It’s good.”

She sat across from me, tucking her hands together. “I’m trying.”

Warmth broke open in my chest. I put my fork down and reached for her hand. “You don’t know how proud I am of you right now.”

Her lips trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed my hand back. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.” My voice broke, and we sat there for a long time, crying and laughing in turns, eating the first meal we’d shared in forever.

The weeks that followed were a dream I never thought I’d live in.

She kept it up—cooking, cleaning, waking up sober every day. She landed a job at an insurance firm as a secretary. A real job, stable and respectable. She came home tired but smiling, with stories of office gossip and new co-workers.

For the first time, I wasn’t working myself to the bone just to survive. With her steady income, I cut back to two jobs, and my grades improved even more. People at school started noticing I looked less like a ghost. Marcie teased me that I was “glowing.”

At night, I lay in bed whispering thanks to Dad. I wanted to believe her near-death experience had shocked her awake. That maybe, just maybe, we could finally live.

I let myself be happy.

Until the day she sat me down again.

I came home from school, humming under my breath, feeling lighter than I had in years. She was waiting for me on the couch, sitting straight, her eyes bright with a look that made my stomach twist.

“Tito, sit,” she said, patting the cushion beside her.

The last time she’d said that, she told me I was the reason my dad died. My pulse quickened as I dropped my bag and sat down. “What’s going on?”

She clasped her hands together, nerves flickering in her expression. “I have more good news. We’re moving.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard her right. “We’re… moving?” The word tumbled out awkwardly, my heart stumbling over itself.

She nodded, excitement building. “Yes. A new place, better than this one. It's safer, cleaner, somewhere we can finally start fresh.”

For a moment, joy bubbled up inside me. A new apartment without the ghosts of our old life…yes, I wanted that. “That’s… that’s amazing, Mum.”

Her smile widened, then faltered slightly. “There’s more.”

I frowned a bit. “More?”

Her voice softened. “We’re moving in with someone special.”

The world tilted. “Your what?”

“The man I’m seeing,” she said gently. “He’s asked us to move in with him.”

I shot off the couch. “You…you’re seeing someone? Since when?!”

Her face softened, almost shy. “Since after the incident. He came into my life then, Tito. He’s the one who pushed me toward therapy, found the support group, kept checking in on me. He’s the reason I’ve been able to stay sober.”

I staggered back, my throat tight. “So what… you almost die, and suddenly you’re dating some stranger?” My voice shook, anger and disbelief twisting together. “When did you even meet him? Where? How is that possible? Did he just—what—miraculously appear out of nowhere?”

Mum flinched, but I couldn’t stop. The words burned too hot. “And now you want me to just pack up and move into his house like he can become one big family? You are suddenly replacing dad?”

“No one could ever take your father’s place.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But Tito, I was drowning. You know I was. And this man… he pulled me out. I don’t want to sink again.”

Anger clawed up my chest. “Mum, you don’t even know him! You don’t know what he’s hiding, what he wants from you. He could hurt you… he could hurt us…” My voice cracked as the questions spilled out. “Why have I never even seen him? Why am I just hearing about him for the first time now? And you expect me to move into his house the same day you tell me he exists?”

She shook her head, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “No, Tito… it’s not like that. I wasn’t even sure at first if I wanted this, or if I was strong enough to try. I can’t even say we’re really dating. But he’s been there in ways no one else has. He pushed me toward therapy, reminded me every day that I wasn’t worthless. And when he asked us to move in with him… I just couldn’t bring myself to say no.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached for mine. “I’m not only doing this for me. I’m doing it for you. You’ve carried the weight of this house since you were a child, when all you should’ve worried about was homework and friends. You’ve been the parent for so long, Tito. I want you to know what it feels like to breathe again, to live like a normal teenager. I want you to be happy in a home that feels like a family.”

My chest ached, the words breaking loose like glass. “I don’t care if he makes you feel safe. To me, he’s still a stranger. And you’re asking me to walk into his house, to call it home, when I don’t even know who he is. Please, Mum… don’t do this to us.”

Her hands trembled as she tried to form the words. “If you won’t come with me, then I…”

The rest stuck in her throat, but I heard it anyway. The threat. The possibility she would choose him over me.

My chest squeezed tight, tears burning my eyes. “Don’t say it,” I snapped, shaking my head hard. “Please don’t make me hear that from you.”

Silence smothered the room. She looked at me, mouth trembling, eyes desperate, and I hated her for making me feel cornered.

I wanted to keep fighting. To scream that I’d never step foot in that man’s house. To tell her she was betraying Dad, betraying me. But the thought of her walking back into that darkness without me—the bottles, the pills, the nights I’d come home to find her gone in everything but body—froze the words on my tongue.

And then I broke. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Her relief came in a sob as she grabbed me, hugging me tight. “Thank you, baby. You’ll see. He’s wonderful. He’s already made arrangements for your school, your books… everything you’ll need.”

I clung to her, my heart aching. Deep down, I hated the idea. But if following her was what it took to keep her from slipping back, I would do it. I couldn’t lose her again.

The next morning, two sleek cars pulled up outside our building. We didn’t have much to pack…just clothes, a few belongings, and the framed photo of Dad I held tight to my chest.

The ride was quiet. My mum sat straight, nervous and excited. I stared out the window, my chest twisting with dread and curiosity.

When we arrived, I nearly lost my breath.

The villa rose ahead of us like a picture out of a magazine —white walls gleaming in the sun, tall gates opening as if the world itself bowed to the man who lived inside. Gardens manicured to perfection. Balconies arched in elegance.

Inside was even more breath taking. Marble floors that reflected the light like water. Chandeliers that glittered like starlight. Art hung on the walls that I knew cost more than our entire lives.

It screamed wealth. Power. A world we didn’t belong to.

I swallowed hard. “Who is he?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mum smiled faintly. “He’s at work. You’ll meet him soon.”

The head maid, dressed in crisp black, greeted us warmly. She spoke with practiced politeness as she showed Mum to her suite, then me to mine.

My room was bigger than our whole apartment. A bed so wide it looked like a cloud. A closet that could’ve doubled as a boutique. A desk by a tall window overlooking the gardens.

“This is yours, Miss Tito,” the maid said.

“Mine?” I whispered, stunned, even more surprised that she knew my name.

“Yes. Please, settle in.”

When she left, I sat on the bed, my heart racing. I pulled out my phone and video-called Marcie. The moment her face popped up, I blurted, “You are not going to believe this.”

She gasped at the background. “Where are you?!”

I panned the camera, showing the chandelier, the massive bed.

“Holy hell, Tito,” she breathed. “Did you win the lottery?”

I laughed shakily. “Something like that. Mum says we’re moving in with her special person. This is his house.”

Her jaw dropped. “Special person? Since when does your mum have one?”

“Since after the incident,” I muttered, flopping onto the bed. “He pushed her into therapy, found her a support group, kept checking in until she listened. Now she’s sober, cooking, smiling like she hasn’t in years… and it’s because of him. I don’t know what to think, Marcie. Part of me is grateful, but part of me is terrified. It’s all happening too fast.”

Marcie’s eyes narrowed. “And you haven’t even met him yet?”

“Not yet. Mum says soon.”

She leaned close to the camera. “Be careful, Tito. Guys like that don’t just hand out miracles.”