Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Chapter 70

Richard's

pov.

The house felt different, brighter maybe, even with all the dust and spray paint cans scattered around.

I leaned back, watching Sarah go from corner to corner, eyeing each wall with a level of focus that honestly made me smile. It was like watching her unlock some creative part of herself I hadn't seen in years. "Okay, I think I'll leave you two to the heavy lifting," she said with a small grin, dusting off her hands. "I've got some painting to finish upstairs."

I caught her arm, meeting her eyes. "Don't strain yourself up there. Call if you need anything moved."

She just rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. You two have got this."

With that, she left us, disappearing up the stairs and leaving me and Martins to face the chaos of unpacked boxes and mismatched furniture in the living room.

Martins gave a low whistle. "She's serious about making this place hers, isn't she?"

I nodded, folding my arms. "Yeah, and... I'm grateful for it." The words slipped out, maybe a little more vulnerable than I intended.

I glanced at Martins, and he raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What? It's true."

"No, no, I get it," he said, still grinning. "Look at you, all grateful and reformed."

up," I chuckled, shaking my head. But he wasn't wrong. Seeing her throw herself into making this place her own again made something warm

like the pieces of us, of everything I'd

elbow. "She's really

him. "It's... a lot to take in. I didn't think I'd get

kicking back on the couch. "So, what are you gonna do

I paused, then shrugged. "Honestly? I'm just taking it one day at a time. Trying to listen more, not just assume I know everything." Martins gave me a thoughtful look. "You really sound

"Guess that's what happens

mean, look at you two. Moving boxes and picking paint like you're teens just starting out." "Yeah," I

here's to the new start

the confidence boost. But honestly, I'm not planning on going

the mountain of boxes, I could hear Sarah moving around upstairs, humming softly as

tiptoes, carefully rolling paint onto the walls with that determined

project, even if it meant paint splatters on her clothes and a streak or

Martins had shifted most of the boxes, giving me a knowing look. "So, you finally feel like

like it's in the right place. Like I'm not just living in some

for you, man," he said, nodding approvingly.

have done it without a few good friends kicking my

Sarah's POV

of soft blue paint across

a sense of purpose I hadn't felt in ages. Our old bedroom, now painted and filled with a few of my favorite things, felt like mine again. Slowly, I was filling the space with pieces of who I was now, not just who

from one wall to the next, I found myself lost in the process, imagining how each room could feel