Chapter 41: Back at Home
Richard didn’t realize how long it had been since he last returned home before sunset.
For the past several months, his life had revolved almost entirely around Phoenix Auto Trading. Construction meetings filled his mornings. Customer appointments consumed his afternoons. Inventory planning, advertising campaigns, and paperwork occupied most evenings. More often than not, he simply slept inside his office at the dealership because driving back and forth to Tondo felt inefficient.
Work had slowly become his routine.
His entire world.
That realization only struck him as he guided his pickup through the narrow roads leading toward Happyland.
Nothing had changed.
The same sari-sari stores stood where they always had.
The same tricycles occupied half the road while their drivers chatted beside them.
Children still played basketball using makeshift rings attached to electrical posts.
Laundry still hung from windows and fences.
The smell of grilled barbecue mixed with the scent of cooking rice drifting from nearby houses.
The neighborhood looked exactly as he remembered it.
Meanwhile, his own life barely resembled the one he lived a year ago.
Richard parked several streets away from their house before turning off the engine.
That had become a habit.
A deliberate one.
His family knew he was doing buy-and-sell work.
What they didn’t know was the scale.
As far as his mother was concerned, he bought and sold second-hand vehicles through business partners and occasionally stayed near the dealership because work demanded it.
That explanation was close enough to the truth.
Just not the whole truth.
Nobody in Happyland needed to know that he had sold hundreds of millions worth of luxury vehicles.
Nobody needed to know that his dealership now looked more expensive than some banks.
The less attention he attracted, the better.
Richard grabbed the paper bags from the passenger seat before stepping outside.
Two buckets of chicken.
Several burgers.
Spaghetti trays.
Peach mango pies.
Large fries.
Two family-size soft drinks.
His sister had always loved Jollibee.
Actually, so had his mother.
The old habit never disappeared no matter how old they became.
By the time he reached the house, the familiar sounds of television drifted through the open window.
He pushed open the door.
"I’m home."
His younger sister immediately looked up from the dining table.
"Brother!"
Her eyes immediately moved toward the bags in his hands.
"Jollibee?"
Richard laughed.
"Your eyesight only works when food is involved."
His sister ignored the insult entirely.
"Chickenjoy?"
"Yes."
"Spaghetti?"
"Yes."
"Peach Mango Pie?"
Richard raised an eyebrow.
"You can smell it through the paper bag?"
Her grin widened.
"Of course."
Their mother stepped out from the kitchen while drying her hands with a towel.
"You came home without telling us?"
"I wanted to surprise you."
She smiled before glancing toward the food.
"You didn’t have to buy all this."
Richard had heard that sentence his entire life.
It translated directly into:
Thank you.
He placed everything on the table.
"Work was good this week."
That explanation always worked.
Technically, it wasn’t even a lie.
His mother sat down while shaking her head.
Richard opened one of the boxes.
His sister immediately grabbed a piece of chicken.
"How’s work, Brother?"
Richard opened the box of chicken and handed one piece to his sister before answering.
"Busy as always."
"Still fixing phones?"
"Mostly repairs. Some buy-and-sell on the side."
That answer had become his standard response over the past several months.
Technically, it wasn’t even false.
He had started with buy-and-sell.
The only detail he omitted was that the products had changed from smartphones to luxury SUVs worth more than entire apartment buildings.
His sister nodded while focusing entirely on the Chickenjoy in front of her.
"Divisoria still crowded?"
Richard laughed.
"When has Divisoria ever not been crowded?"
"Fair point."
His mother sat down across from him and poured soft drinks into plastic cups.
"At least business seems better now."
Richard looked up.
"What makes you say that?"
She gestured toward the food spread across the table.
"You come home with food more often now."
His sister immediately joined the attack.
"And you replaced your old phone."
"And your clothes look more expensive."
"And you smell like air conditioning now."
Richard nearly choked on his drink.
"What kind of observation is that?"
His sister pointed accusingly at him.
"Before, you smelled like soldering smoke and cellphone glue."
Their mother laughed.
"She’s not wrong."
Richard surrendered immediately.
"Fine. Business improved."
His mother smiled.
"That’s good."
"For a while I was worried."
Richard knew exactly what she meant.
There had been days when he returned home exhausted after sitting in the repair stall for twelve hours straight. Some weeks were good. Others were terrible. A broken screen replacement could feed them for several days. A slow week meant carefully calculating expenses and delaying purchases that weren’t absolutely necessary.
Those years weren’t that far behind him.
Sometimes it still felt strange how quickly life had changed.
His sister grabbed another piece of chicken.
"How’s your boss?"
Richard paused for half a second.
"Still the same."
The lie came easier than expected.
He hadn’t stepped inside the repair stall in months.
The older man probably assumed Richard had simply moved on to independent buy-and-sell work somewhere else in the city.
Which, technically, was true.
Just not in the way anyone imagined.
His mother nodded.
"He treated you well."
"He did."
"Good bosses are hard to find."
Richard looked down at his food for a moment.
If his mother knew that he currently employed more people than Boss Mario did, she would probably stare at him as if he had lost his mind.
The thought almost made him smile.
His sister suddenly leaned forward.
"So when are you getting your own repair shop?"
Richard blinked.
"My own repair shop?"
"Yeah."
She looked around the house.
"You’ve been saving money for years."
"You always talk about opening your own place someday."
For a moment, Richard forgot to answer.
Because she was right.
That had been the dream.
A small repair shop.
A few display cases.
Some accessories for sale.
Maybe one employee if business became good enough.
Back then, owning a tiny store in Divisoria had felt like success.
Now he owned a luxury automotive showroom that looked like it belonged beside multinational headquarters.
Life really was absurd sometimes.
Richard forced himself back into the conversation.
"Maybe eventually."
His sister frowned.
"That’s not an answer."
"It’s the only answer you’re getting."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
His mother simply smiled while watching the two of them.
"You know," she said quietly, "your father used to make plans like that too."
The room became quieter.
Richard looked toward her.
"He always talked about opening his own business one day."
She smiled faintly.
"Nothing big."
"Just something that belonged to him."
Richard didn’t know what to say.
He barely remembered his father.
Only fragments remained.
A face.
A voice.
A few memories that became harder to hold onto with every passing year.
His mother noticed the expression on his face and quickly changed the subject.
"So how long are you staying this time?"
Richard hesitated.
"Just tonight."
Her expression fell slightly before she quickly hid it.
"Work again?"
"Yeah."
"The customers don’t stop calling."
That part, at least, was true.
His phone vibrated in his pocket almost as if the universe wanted to prove his point.
His sister immediately pointed at him.
"See?"
"Work."
Richard pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
Most likely another customer.
Another inquiry.
Another appointment request.
He silenced it and returned the phone to his pocket.
"See?" he said.
His sister laughed.
"You’re becoming important now."
If only she knew.
Later that evening, after dinner had been cleaned up and the television quietly played in the background, Richard stepped outside and sat near the doorway.
Happyland at night felt different from anywhere else in Metro Manila.
People remained outside long after sunset.
Neighbors talked across the street.
Children still played games under streetlights.
Somebody nearby was singing karaoke despite the late hour.
Some things never changed.
His sister eventually stepped outside and sat beside him.
"You’ve changed, Brother."
Richard looked at her.
"Hopefully for the better."
She shook her head.
"Not like that."
"You just seem... busier now."
He didn’t answer immediately.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Phoenix Auto Trading had consumed his life.
The customers.
The construction.
The employees.
The inventory.
The expansion.
Every month demanded more than the last.
His sister nudged his shoulder.
"Just don’t disappear completely, okay?"
Richard smiled.
"I won’t."
She nodded.
"Good."
For several minutes, the two simply sat there listening to the sounds of the neighborhood.
Richard looked up at the familiar skyline of electrical wires, rooftops, and dim streetlights.
Somewhere in Valenzuela stood a luxury dealership carrying inventory worth hundreds of millions of pesos.
Somewhere in his bank account sat more money than he had ever imagined earning in his lifetime.
Yet sitting here outside their small house in Happyland still felt strangely normal.
Maybe that was a good thing.
Because no matter how successful he became, no matter how large Phoenix Auto Trading eventually grew, and no matter what the system unlocked in the future...
This place would always remind him who he used to be.
And perhaps more importantly...
Who he never wanted to stop being.