Anabelle stood by her apartment window, watching the sunrise paint the city in shades of gold. Months had passed since Carson had walked out of her life for good.
The wounds had taken time to heal, but she had learned to live again — one careful step at a time. Her mornings no longer began with tears. Instead, they began with purpose.
She turned away from the window and looked at the neat stack of sketches spread across her small dining table.
Each sheet carried her vision — clean lines, bold colors, and the kind of spaces that made people feel alive. Her new company, Belle Interiors, was still small, but it was hers.
Every wall painted, every chair placed, every client satisfied — it was a piece of her hard work.
Her phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from her assistant,
