Months rolled by, and school resumed fully. I returned to campus with mixed feelings. Though everything seemed normal, my thoughts were often at home. Jessica—my stepmother—was always on my mind. Not in a bad way, but in a way I couldn't explain.
She was kind, smart, and strangely comforting. We talked often during my stay at home, and she never tried to take my mother's place. Instead, she spoke of her with respect, always avoiding topics that would hurt me. She told me how lonely my father had been, and how she herself had lost someone dear before meeting him.
I started to understand her more, and day by day, the bitterness in my heart started to fade.
During school break, I returned home again. This time, the compound didn't feel strange. Jessica welcomed me with a smile and warm hug. It felt... okay.
"Jude, welcome. You've grown," she said with a laugh. "Come, your father went to the farm, but he'll be back soon."
This time, I entered freely, sat in the parlour, and even helped her in the kitchen. We prepared dinner together and laughed like we were siblings.
That night, my father came back and met both of us sitting on the balcony. He looked at me and smiled with relief in his eyes.
"I'm proud of you, son," he said. "Your mother would be proud too."
Those words melted something inside me. Maybe this was our new beginning.
Years later, I graduated. Jessica and Dad were both present, cheering loudly when I got my certificate. We took family pictures that day — and for the first time in a long while, I smiled genuinely.
Even though life changed in a way I didn't expect, I realized sometimes we have to open our hearts to new beginnings... even if they arrive wearing unfamiliar faces.
And so, I chose peace.
I chose family.
I chose to heal.
After graduation, life came at me fast. I got a good internship in the city, and before long, I was working with a reputable environmental agency. I rented a small apartment, and though I missed home, I called every weekend.
Dad was always happy to hear from me.
Jessica? She became my second mother without even trying.
She'd say things like,
"Jude, don't skip meals,"
or
"I saw this shirt and thought of you—what size are you now sef?"
Sometimes I forgot how much I resisted her at the beginning. But the truth is, she never forced her way into my heart; she simply waited with kindness.