Life in my new apartment slowly became something steady and quiet. I painted one wall a deep navy color that Scott once called too dramatic. I bought a smaller dining table that fit my real life instead of a crowd I rarely hosted. My work as an interior designer filled most of my days, and strangely the divorce sharpened my instincts.
Clients began seeking me out because they had heard about my work helping people rebuild homes after breakups or loss. One afternoon a client named Diane Foster sat across from me and said, “You don’t just decorate rooms. You protect people.”
I smiled at the comment because it felt unexpectedly accurate.
About a month later Kelsey tried to contact me on social media with a pastel themed account that described her life as a healing era.
“Rebecca,” she wrote. “We should talk. There was a lot of misunderstanding.”
I deleted the message.
Soon after that she posted vague comments online about women who tried to buy love with furniture. I ignored the post and asked my lawyer to send a polite warning about harassment. The comments stopped immediately.