"Want to go apartment-hunting today? I saw a listing in Oakview District."
Elaine's voice was gentle but hopeful, a rare spark in the otherwise gray haze that had been their lives for so long.
Oakview District — a small, sleepy neighborhood two towns over. Quiet. Safe.
The kind of place that didn't have secrets lurking in every corner or memories clawing back at you.
Aris smiled—a real one this time.
"Perfect."
He said it aloud, as if saying it might just make it come true.
Because this time?
This time, he was done playing the broken version of himself, the one his story had forced him to be.
No more being the doormat, the punching bag, the boy swallowed whole by the relentless storm of family betrayals and heartbreaks.
This time, Aris would flip the script.
Kick tragedy in the balls.
Rewrite this sob-fest into a goddamn comedy-drama action adventure.
And he'd start by being the one thing the original Aris never was: unapologetically selfish—for the right reasons.
...
The cab rolled through the winding streets, the cityscape giving way to quieter suburban homes shaded by old oak trees.
"We are at the destination."
The driver's voice broke the silence, cheerfully informing them.
Elaine opened the door and stepped out, holding the cab door for Aris.
"Let's go, sweety."
He nodded in return, his thoughts swirling with the strange mix of hope and caution.
Oakview District wasn't flashy. It wasn't dripping with luxury or modern glitz. But it had something far more valuable: peace.
And right now, that was everything.
...
The house stood modestly on a corner lot, its whitewashed walls worn but sturdy.
The front yard, framed by flowering shrubs, was wild yet welcoming—like an old friend waiting with open arms.
Elaine's eyes brightened as they approached the porch.
"I think this could be home."
Aris scanned the neighborhood—the quiet streets, a few kids riding bikes nearby, a couple walking their dog.
No whispers of family drama. No ghosts from the past lurking in the shadows. Just life, moving slow and steady.
A figure approached from the driveway—an older man in a neat shirt and khakis, clipboard in hand.
"Welcome, welcome! Are you Miss Elaine?"
The manager smiled warmly.
"I've been expecting you. I've spoken with you online, but it's good to meet in person."
Elaine smiled back, cheeks flushing slightly.
"Yes, that's me. We're interested in the house, but only if it's affordable."
The manager's smile deepened.
"It's quite affordable, actually. Much cheaper than most houses of this size in the area."
He gestured toward the front door.
"Shall we take a look inside?"
...
Elaine stepped in first, and Aris followed, the creak of the door echoing in the quiet house.
The air smelled faintly of pine cleaner mixed with the lingering scent of rain.
The living room was cozy—sunlight spilling through wide windows, casting gentle patterns on wooden floors. The walls were a soft cream, a blank canvas waiting for memories to be painted.
Aris let out a slow breath.
This was different.
...
The manager began the tour, moving confidently from room to room.
"The kitchen is original, but well maintained. Plenty of cabinet space, and new appliances just installed last year."
Elaine ran her fingers over the smooth countertop, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Aris inspected the cabinets, silently approving. He wasn't a cook, but he knew this space was good enough to prepare a decent meal—something they hadn't been able to enjoy in a while.
The bedrooms were next.
Aris imagined waking up here, in a room without the weight of the past crushing down on him.
The master bedroom had a large window overlooking the backyard, where wildflowers had started to bloom.
Elaine lingered there, breathing in the calm.
"This could be our sanctuary," she said softly.
...
The backyard was surprisingly spacious—enough for a small garden, maybe even a swing set if Aris ever felt like embracing normalcy again.
"I can see us here," Elaine said, looking over her shoulder at Aris.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he nodded.
"Yes. This is where we would rebuild."
...
The price was reasonable, just within the range of their savings—years of small sacrifices and quiet perseverance.
Elaine and Aris huddled in the living room after the tour, whispering plans and possibilities.
"We can afford this," Elaine said, her voice steady with determination. "It's not much, but it's ours."
Aris felt a flicker of excitement mingle with relief.
They had lived in cramped apartments, survived on meager incomes, endured the emotional earthquakes that came with family betrayals and broken promises.
But this—this house was a fresh start.
...
Signing the papers was a quiet affair.
The manager handed over the keys with a proud smile.
"Welcome home."
...
Moving day was chaotic, as moving days tend to be, but it was filled with laughter and small victories.
Elaine unpacked the kitchen boxes with a grin, carefully arranging their few cherished dishes.
Aris set up the living room, placing a battered old couch by the window.
For once, the silence wasn't heavy with unspoken pain—it was a canvas, ready for new memories.
...
The first few days in the house felt like a dream.
No fights. No whispered arguments behind closed doors.
Just peace.
And in that peace, Aris began to feel something new.
Hope.
...
One evening, they sat on the porch, the sky painted with the deep purples and pinks of sunset.
Elaine sipped tea, her eyes tired but content.
Aris leaned back, letting the cool breeze wash over him.
"We're going to be okay," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
Elaine smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
"Yes, we are."
This house wasn't just a roof and walls.
It was their rebellion against the past.
Their declaration that they would not be broken again.
And as Aris looked out into the quiet streets of Oakview District, he knew this was only the beginning.
Danger still lured in the shadows, afterall the goddess didn't want peace, she want entertainment, she wants drama.
But there's this one particular thing he couldn't comprehend.