Chapter 157 Anabelle’s Sanctuary
The soft morning light spilled through the wide windows of Anabelle’s new house, painting the walls a gentle gold.
The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mixing with the faint aroma of vanilla from the candle burning on the coffee table. The house was quiet, peaceful, and completely hers.
Anabelle stood barefoot on the polished wooden floor, holding a cup of tea between her hands.
She looked around and smiled. The living room was exactly as she wanted it—simple, warm, and full of life.
She had spent weeks decorating it, choosing every color and object with care. Pale cream walls, green plants in every corner, soft curtains that danced with the wind, and paintings she made herself hanging proudly on the walls.
“This feels like home,” she whispered to herself, her smile widening.
Her phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from Jude, her boss at the design firm. “Meeting at 10. Don’t forget the client file. And thank you again for yesterday—you handled it perfectly.”
Anabelle typed back quickly: “Thank you, Jude. See you soon.”
She placed her cup down and walked to her small art corner near the window. The easel stood ready, holding a half-finished painting of a sunrise. She picked up a brush and stared at the canvas for a moment. The colors were bright, alive, full of energy. Just like how she felt these days.
A soft smile curved her lips as she dipped her brush in orange paint and added strokes to the sky. “I like this,” she murmured. “Peace. Freedom.”
Her life had become something she never thought possible—a quiet rhythm of work, art, and laughter. She wasn’t rushing to please anyone anymore. She wasn’t waiting for anyone’s approval. She was finally choosing herself.
After finishing her painting, she went upstairs to get ready for work. Her wardrobe was neat and filled with light fabrics and calm colors.
She picked a simple white blouse and a beige skirt, then tied her hair into a bun. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she saw a woman who had learned to stand tall again.
“You did it, Anabelle,” she said softly to her reflection. “You really did.”
By the time she got to the office, it was already buzzing with activity. The sound of phones ringing and people typing filled the air. She greeted her coworkers with a warm smile as she walked toward her desk.
“Morning, Anabelle,” said Clara, her colleague. “Jude’s been talking about you all morning. Said your presentation yesterday sealed the deal with that big client.”
Anabelle laughed lightly. “He did most of the work,” she said modestly.
Clara grinned. “Don’t be so humble. We all know who saved the day when the client started doubting the design.”
Before Anabelle could answer, Jude walked out of his office, holding a folder. He spotted her immediately. “Anabelle! There you are,” he said cheerfully. “Come in for a moment, please.”
She followed him inside. Jude’s office was bright and well-organized, with large windows overlooking the city. He motioned for her to sit down.
“I just wanted to say how proud I am of you,” he began. “You’ve grown so much since you started here. You’re not just talented—you’re reliable, confident, and creative. That’s why I’ve decided to make it official. You’ll be my second in command from now on.”
Anabelle blinked, her eyes wide. “Jude… are you serious?”
He smiled. “Completely. You’ve earned it.”
She felt her heart swell. “Thank you. I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll keep doing what you’ve been doing,” Jude said, chuckling. “That’s more than enough.”
Anabelle laughed softly. “I will. I promise.”
When she left his office, everyone clapped and congratulated her. She felt a warmth spread through her chest—not the kind that came from others’ approval, but from her own sense of accomplishment. For the first time in years, she was living for herself.
At lunchtime, she sat by the window in the office café, eating quietly while looking outside. The city was busy, but she didn’t feel lost in it anymore. She had carved a place for herself.
Her phone buzzed again—this time, a message from Fred. “Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t forget to eat something.”
She smiled softly, typing back, “Already did. Thank you, Fred.”
Fred had been kind, patient, and steady through everything. She admired him deeply. Sometimes she caught herself wondering what it would be like to have more with him—but she pushed the thought away gently. For now, she wanted to keep her peace.
After work, she returned home as the evening sky turned pink. She placed her bag on the couch and changed into something comfortable. Then she opened the windows and let the breeze fill the room.
She cooked herself dinner—pasta with vegetables—and hummed softly as she stirred the pot. Music played quietly from her phone, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.
When she sat down to eat, she looked around her home again. Every corner held a piece of her story—the new furniture, the art on the walls, the fresh flowers, the candles. Everything reminded her that she had built this life with her own hands.
After dinner, she went outside to her small garden. The moon was rising, casting silver light on the plants. She watered them carefully, smiling at the sight of the little flowers she had planted last month beginning to bloom.
As she sat on the garden chair, she thought about how far she had come. The pain of the past didn’t hurt as much anymore. It was still there, somewhere deep down, but it no longer controlled her.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The cool air brushed against her skin, and for the first time in a long time, she felt calm — truly calm.
She didn’t know what was happening elsewhere — Carson’s regret, Fred’s quiet longing — and she didn’t need to. Her world was peaceful, full of purpose and light.
When her phone buzzed again, she picked it up and saw another message from Jude: “Don’t forget the event next week. You’re representing the company with me.”
Anabelle smiled. “I’ll be ready,” she typed back.
She placed her phone aside and leaned back, looking up at the stars. “I’m finally okay,” she whispered.
The wind carried her words softly through the night. Her home glowed warmly behind her, her sanctuary — a place born not from escape, but from strength.
Anabelle smiled again, her heart light and steady. Whatever the world outside was doing, whatever storms it carried, none of it could touch her peace tonight.
Her life was her own. And that was enough.