Chapter 46: The Decision
Richard didn’t sleep early that night.
Long after the house had gone quiet, he remained outside near the doorway with his phone in one hand and the condominium listing still open on the screen. The photographs looked different now. Before, they had been polished marketing images pulled from a property website. After bringing his mother and Angela there, the rooms had somehow become attached to memories that hadn’t even happened yet.
He could still picture Angela standing near the windows and immediately claiming the bedroom with the best view.
He could still remember his mother quietly running her fingers along the kitchen counter as if she wasn’t entirely convinced she belonged in a place like that.
That image stayed with him the longest.
For years, his mother had moved through life like someone who had learned not to ask for too much. She accepted leaking roofs, unreliable electricity, flooding streets, and neighbors whose definition of peace involved karaoke until midnight because experience had taught her that complaining rarely changed anything.
Survival had taught her how to endure.
Richard hated that.
Not because he hated where they came from.
Happyland had raised him. It had shaped the way he looked at money, taught him what scarcity felt like, and showed him how people could still laugh and share meals even when life was difficult.
But gratitude wasn’t the same thing as obligation.
Loving where you came from didn’t mean staying there forever.
By the time morning arrived, his decision had already been made.
He wasn’t going to wait for another typhoon.
He wasn’t going to wait until the roof leaked again or until floodwater entered the house for the next time.
He had the means to change things now.
So he would.
Richard arrived at Phoenix Auto Trading before eight o’clock, entered his office, and called the broker before he had even sat down.
The man answered with the same polished enthusiasm he had shown during the viewing, but his voice changed the moment Richard told him he wanted to proceed.
"Sir, you mean you’d like to reserve the unit?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful, sir. We can prepare the reservation documents immediately. Would you prefer bank financing, deferred cash, or full payment?"
Richard looked through the glass wall overlooking the showroom below.
One of his sales consultants was walking a customer around a Mercedes-Benz GLS while another guest sat near the lounge speaking with the receptionist over coffee.
The business looked calm.
Professional.
Established.
As if it had existed for years instead of months.
"Full payment," Richard said.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"Full payment, sir?"
"Yes."
"Understood, sir. That will make the process significantly faster."
Richard could practically hear the broker trying to remain professional.
"Send me the complete computation. Taxes, transfer fees, association dues, parking fees, everything. I don’t want surprises."
"Of course, sir. I’ll send everything within the hour."
After ending the call, Richard leaned back in his chair and let out a slow breath.
Twenty-eight million pesos.
Closer to thirty million once the additional fees were included.
The number was large enough to command respect, but it no longer inspired fear.
That realization alone reminded him how far his life had moved from where it had once been.
Not that long ago he would have spent an entire week deciding whether buying himself a new phone was irresponsible.
Now he was buying a condominium for his family.
Outright.
The computation arrived forty minutes later.
Taxes.
Transfer fees.
Association dues.
Parking allocations.
Move-in permits.
Miscellaneous charges.
The final amount settled just below thirty million pesos.
Richard stared at the figure for several moments.
Part of him expected panic.
Instead, he felt strangely calm.
Relieved, even.
This didn’t feel like spending money.
It felt like fulfilling a promise he had made to himself years ago.
By noon he was sitting inside the developer’s office signing documents.
The conference room smelled faintly of paper, coffee, and recycled air conditioning while sunlight filtered through the glass walls overlooking another part of Quezon City. The broker sitting across from him carried himself differently now than he had during their first meeting.
More respectful.
More careful.
Money had a way of changing conversations.
"Congratulations, sir," the broker said after the final signature was complete. "Once payment clears and the remaining documents are processed, we can arrange turnover immediately since the unit is already ready for occupancy."
Richard nodded.
"How soon?"
"If everything is finalized today, turnover can happen within the week."
"Good."
The broker smiled.
"Your family will be very happy, sir."
Richard paused for a moment.
Family.
For some reason, that word carried more weight than the transaction itself.
"I hope so."
The transfer of money felt strangely anticlimactic.
A few taps on his phone, a verification call with the bank, and several minutes later an amount of money that would have shattered his understanding of reality a year ago quietly changed hands inside an air-conditioned conference room while someone offered him bottled water.
When the confirmation message finally arrived, Richard looked down at the screen.
Transaction successful.
Funds transferred.
He had done it.
He had bought a home for his family.
Not rented.
Not planned for someday.
Not postponed until circumstances improved.
Bought.
For several moments he simply sat there while the broker explained turnover schedules, association rules, parking access cards, and building regulations.
The words reached him, but only partially.
His mind was somewhere else entirely.
By the time he returned to Phoenix Auto Trading, the afternoon sun had filled the showroom with warm light reflecting off polished paint and glass.
Customers moved between vehicles while sales staff handled inquiries with the confidence of people who knew business was good.
Adrian met him near reception.
"Sir, the client for the black Lexus LM confirmed inspection tomorrow morning."
Richard nodded.
"Good."
"And the buyer for the GLS requested another copy of the service records."
"Send it."
Adrian studied him for a moment.
"Everything alright, sir?"
Richard looked at him.
Apparently something on his face had given him away.
"Yeah," he said.
"I bought a condominium."
Adrian blinked.
"For investment?"
Richard shook his head.
"For my family."
The sales manager smiled.
"Congratulations, sir."
"Thanks."
"Will you tell them tonight?"
Richard looked toward the showroom entrance where traffic moved steadily beyond the glass walls.
Somewhere in Tondo, his mother probably still believed he spent his days repairing phones or handling modest buy-and-sell deals.
"No," he said after a moment.
"Not yet."
Adrian frowned slightly.
Richard smiled.
"I want everything ready first."
That was the truth.
He didn’t want to hand them paperwork.
He wanted to hand them keys.
Over the next few days, Richard quietly prepared everything.
The unit was professionally cleaned. Utilities were transferred into his name while internet installation was scheduled as quickly as possible. Furniture arrived in stages.
A new bed for his mother.
A study desk for Angela positioned exactly where she had pointed during the viewing.
Kitchen appliances.
Curtains.
Linens.
Groceries.
A proper dining table.
He handled every detail with more care than some of the multi-million-peso transactions he had completed at the dealership.
Luxury vehicles had become business.
This felt personal.
The hardest part was dealing with Angela.
She kept messaging him.
Brother, are we going back to the condo?
Brother, did you ask about the price?
Brother, Ma says it’s too expensive.
Brother, answer properly.
Richard’s replies became increasingly unhelpful.
Busy.
Later.
Still thinking.
Stop interrogating me.
Angela became more suspicious with every passing day.
His mother, meanwhile, asked nothing.
That somehow worried him more.
The evening before turnover, Richard drove back to Tondo carrying groceries and a small Jollibee order for dinner.
The conversation stayed ordinary.
Angela complained about schoolwork while their mother reminded both of them not to leave trash outside because stray cats kept tearing open the bags during the night.
Nothing about the evening felt unusual.
That made it harder.
Because somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard knew this might be one of their last ordinary nights in this house.
After dinner, rain began falling.
At first it was light enough to disappear beneath the sound of the television.
Then it grew heavier.
The sound against the roof became louder until someone eventually increased the volume.
Without saying anything, his mother stood and checked the usual corner near the kitchen wall.
Angela quietly moved her notebooks and school papers away from the section of the table closest to the leak.
Nobody discussed it.
Nobody complained.
The movements were automatic.
Practiced.
A few minutes later, water began dripping steadily into the plastic basin his mother placed beneath the leak years ago.
The familiar sound echoed softly through the room while everyone continued what they were doing as if it barely existed anymore.
That hurt Richard more than the leak itself.
They were used to it.
That was the problem.
He looked at the basin.
Then at his mother.
Then at Angela, who continued writing while pretending not to notice the sound.
The decision he had already made days earlier settled into something permanent.
Enough.
The following morning he woke before either of them and left after telling his mother he had work to handle.
Instead of driving to the dealership, he headed straight toward Quezon City.
The broker handed him the keys in the condominium lobby.
Key cards.
Parking access cards.
Physical keys.
Documents neatly arranged inside a leather folder.
"Congratulations again, sir."
Richard accepted them quietly.
The keys weighed almost nothing in his hand, yet he suspected he would remember that moment for the rest of his life.
He rode the elevator alone.
When the doors opened, he walked down the hallway and unlocked the unit himself for the first time.
Morning sunlight poured through the windows as the door swung open.
The apartment smelled clean and new.
The furniture had been arranged exactly as he requested. The dining table sat near the windows while the kitchen appliances had already been installed. Angela’s room contained a study desk facing the skyline exactly where she would have wanted it, while his mother’s room felt calm, quiet, and comfortable.
Richard walked slowly through each room.
He checked the lights.
The water pressure.
The air conditioning.
The locks.
The internet router blinking quietly beside the television console.
Everything worked.
Everything was ready.
Eventually he returned to the living room and looked out over the city below.
Manila continued moving as it always had.
Busy.
Crowded.
Unforgiving.
But up here, behind thick glass and quiet walls, last night’s storm felt very far away.
Richard placed the keys on the dining table and smiled.
Tonight he would bring them here.
No more vague answers.
No more delays.
No more someday.
His family was finally going home.