Chapter 40
COLE
After two weeks of house hunting, we finally found a place in Cobble Hill where new houses were being developed.
Those two weeks had been a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.
Jiya and I had spent hours driving through neighbourhoods, walking through half-finished homes, and studying layouts that either felt too small, too cold, or simply not right.
Some houses looked beautiful on the outside but felt empty the moment we stepped inside.
Others had potential but did not feel like a place where our lives could truly unfold.
But this one was different.
The moment we stood on the street in Cobble Hill and looked at the stretch of newly developing homes surrounded by tall trees and open sky, it felt right. It reminded me of Cowichan Bay, but it also carried the promise of something new.
A new beginning.
A clean start for both of us.
Exactly what we needed.
Jiya had been especially drawn to the idea of building a new house instead of moving into one already filled with someone else’s memories. She had told me that a fresh house felt symbolic.
I could not have agreed more.
I love you, Cole.
I had finally heard the most precious words from her, and the next morning, she agreed to move into the new house with me.
Even now, the memory of her saying she loved me stayed with me, as vivid and overwhelming as the moment itself.
I hadn’t been fully asleep when she said them. I had felt her arm draped across me and heard the soft whisper meant only for the darkness. I had stayed still, barely breathing, not wanting to break the honesty of that moment. It had felt too rare, too precious, to interrupt.
Now, as we stood together on the empty lot where our future house would eventually rise, the cool breeze brushed against us as construction crews worked on nearby properties.
“Are you sure about this?” Jiya asked me, her voice thoughtful as she studied the plans in her hands. “It will take another eight months to get ready.”
I looked at her and smiled. “I’m happy if you are. I’m in no rush at all.” Leaning down, I kissed her cheek.
Eight months did not feel like a long time when I thought about what we were building together.
Later that evening, we gathered everyone in the living room and spread the house plans across the table so the children and Geeta could see them.
Lucas leaned over the drawings immediately, his curious eyes examining every detail.
Emma sat beside him, mostly fascinated by the colourful shapes and lines rather than understanding what they meant.
Geeta stood behind them, smiling quietly as she listened to us explain.
“This will be the kitchen,” I said, pointing to the layout. “And over here is the backyard.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “Will I have to change my school, Mama?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.
Jiya reached over and gently rubbed his shoulder. “No, honey,” she said reassuringly. “You won’t have to do that.”
Lucas looked at the plans again before breaking into a huge grin. “Then it’s perfect, Mama!”
Before either of us could react, he threw his arms around both of us, squeezing tightly.
I wrapped one arm around him while Jiya held him close on the other side.
The idea of the future no longer felt uncertain.
It felt like home.
“I want to sell the apartment,” I said, a week later.
Jiya looked up at me immediately. “I thought you wanted to move together into the new house?”
“I do,” I replied, walking toward her slowly. “But I thought I’d practice in this house first.” I stopped in front of her. “What do you think?”
I wanted to be fully there.
Not just visiting or staying the night, but living with her.
Living with all of them.
Even though I was almost certain what her answer would be, I still second-guessed myself.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“I love it,” she said softly. “That’s what I think.”
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her nose, relief washing over me.
“Do you want to rent it instead of selling it?” she asked.
“I think that would be too much of a hassle. Finding tenants, making sure they pay on time, making sure they don’t destroy the place… I’d rather just sell it.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
So that was what I did.
I put my apartment up for sale.
Even though I had spent countless nights at Jiya’s house, selling the apartment and moving in made everything feel official.
It sealed my commitment.
Not that I had ever doubted it.
But there was something powerful about taking that step.
The kind that meant something important was beginning.
The first time I saw my things next to hers, a sense of home filled me. Especially the moment I noticed my toothbrush sitting beside hers in the bathroom.
I loved sleeping beside her every night and waking up next to her every morning. It had been years since I had allowed myself to have that kind of closeness again.
And now it was finally happening.
While packing my things with her one afternoon, another thought crossed my mind. “What do you think about moving my bed to your place and selling your current one?” I asked.
She paused, thinking about it. “Mine is a bit cramped for the two of us, isn’t it?”
“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “My legs are always dangling off the end.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Why didn’t you say something before?” she asked. “Now I feel horrible.”
I pulled her gently into my arms. “Ahh, Babe. I’m sorry. That was not my intention. How about we get a brand-new bed?”
She wrapped her arms around my waist. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
As I moved my things into her house, I noticed how much space she had made for me. She cleared out half of the walk-in closet so I could hang my clothes there, and she emptied one entire side of the chest of drawers.
I looked at the empty drawers and then back at her. “I don’t have enough things to fill all of these. You didn’t have to empty this entire side.”
“Use what you need,” she said, smiling. “The rest… we’ll gather things together.”
The simplicity of her words stayed with me. That first night after I officially moved in felt different. The evening before, we had gone out to pick new bedding that reflected both our tastes—a small celebration of the life we were beginning to build.
When I woke beside her the next morning, sunlight stretching across the room and her hair spread across the pillow, I knew something important had changed.
This was not just her house anymore.
It felt like home.
Our home.
Not long after we moved in, Elle and Karl came to visit.
It had been something I had quietly arranged.
“I’m so happy you’ve found love again, Jiji,” Elle told her. “It was about time.”
Jiya looked at me then, her eyes shining with happiness. “I’m truly happy,” she said. “For the first time in a long time, I’m truly happy.”
Seeing that expression on her face was worth every step it had taken to get there.
As requested by Lucas, we took the ferry and spent the weekend exploring a neighbouring island.
We hiked through forest trails, set up camp under towering trees, and roasted marshmallows over a small fire while the children laughed and chased each other around, with the night sky wide and endless above us.
When we returned home after the adventure-filled weekend, exhaustion caught up with me.
But that evening, I found myself leaning over the sink in the bathroom, throwing up again.
“Honey, are you alright?” Jiya’s voice came from behind the door.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I think it was the food we barbecued.”
A few minutes later, she came back into the room with a glass of water.
I sat on the bed, feeling drained. My face must have looked pale because her expression shifted with concern. “We all ate the same food. I’m a little worried.”
I drank the water she handed me.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my mouth. “I guess my stomach is starting to get sensitive.”
“Why don’t we go to the doctor and check it out?” she suggested.
I shook my head.
“No, it’s nothing,” I said, leaning forward to kiss her. “Just food poisoning.”
Then I pulled her gently back onto the bed. “Come back to bed with me.”
She curled into my arms, resting her head against my chest the way she always did. Within minutes, her breathing slowed as she drifted off to sleep.
I held her there in the quiet darkness, listening to the gentle rhythm of her breathing while my own thoughts lingered somewhere just out of reach.