Chapter 6 - The Room Felix Chose
Felix refused to enter the house at first.
He stood on the porch holding my father’s hand.
“This is Sabrina’s house,” he said.
“No,” I replied. “It is yours and mine.”
“Dad said you weren’t coming back.”
“I came back.”
“What if you leave again?”
I knelt in front of him.
“I may need to work. But I will never disappear without telling you where I am and when I am coming home.”
He stared at me.
Children do not rebuild trust because adults make promises.
They watch what happens next.
I did not ask him to call me Mom.
I did not demand a hug.
I opened the door and let him decide.
He entered slowly.
His old bedroom had been changed.
The books and toys from Russell’s photographs were gone.
Sabrina had converted it into a dressing room.
Felix stood in the doorway.
“Dad said my things were in storage.”
Police later found most of them inside the garage.
Several boxes had water damage.
I spent the afternoon cleaning his books.
Felix sat near me, silently passing each one over.
When we found the bedtime story I used to read before leaving for Tampa, he touched the cover.
“You used to do voices.”
“I still remember them.”
“You can read it tonight.”
It was not a hug.
It was better.
It was permission.
My parents moved into the downstairs bedroom again, but only temporarily.
The caregiver trust allowed me to purchase a small accessible home nearby for them.
My father resisted.
“That money is yours.”
“You lost your pension because of my husband.”
“Because I trusted him.”
“We can both stop punishing ourselves.”
We restored his medical coverage and reported the pension theft.
The bank recovered part of the money from an account Russell had hidden.
My mother began therapy after admitting that she still became afraid whenever a key turned in the front door.
The house had been beautiful in photographs.
Inside, it had become a place where everyone waited for Russell’s mood to change.
We removed Sabrina’s furniture.
Repainted the bedrooms.
Changed every password.
I gave Felix the largest room and allowed him to choose the wall color.
He selected bright green because it matched the backyard.
One evening, I found him placing three framed photographs beside his bed.
One showed my parents.
One showed me holding him as a baby.
The third showed Russell.
I stopped.
Felix looked frightened.
“Can I keep Dad?”
The question broke my heart.
“You can love your father.”
“Even if he did bad things?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
“I loved him for a long time.”
“Do you hate him now?”
I considered the answer.
“I hate what he did. I am still deciding what I feel about him.”
Felix nodded.
Then he placed the photograph where he could see it.
I did not remove it.
May you like
Protecting my son did not require controlling his memories.
Russell had already done enough of that.
