Just before their two weeks ended, Abby admitted she’d been unfaithful and walked out. He was left alone and wanted me back. I forgave him—but for my own freedom, not his. By the ocean, I started painting again—shells, driftwood, moments of healing. I opened a small studio called Red Tape Art Studio. Women came to paint, to heal, to start again. One even thanked me for inspiring her to leave her own betrayal behind.
Then came a gift: a silver bracelet with a red tape charm. No note. I wore it with gratitude—for the pain that shaped me, and the strength it revealed. I built a life from the ruins. I wrote, created, grew. And if you’re standing in your own storm, remember this: Draw your red tape. Claim your peace. You’re not broken. You’re becoming.