I painted the rooms myself.
I chose a warm cream color called Morning Light.
I spent an entire weekend rolling paint across the walls while classic rock played from an old radio.
I repainted the guest bedroom too.
The pale-green walls had held years of painful memories.
When I finished, I stood in the doorway and looked around.
For the first time, it felt like an ordinary room.
Not a place defined by loss.
Just a room waiting for whatever came next.
The plumber repaired the damaged bathroom floor.
The water heater turned out to be fine.
Then the water bill arrived.
It was terrible.
I sat at the kitchen table staring at it for a long time.
But under the court’s financial arrangements, the cost was charged against Brian’s settlement share.
I sent it to Claire.
And eventually, it was paid.
The walls were repaired.
The plumbing was fixed.
