After our nasty divorce, my ex-husband Kevin wouldn’t stop harassing me—calls, stalking, even public outbursts. The final straw came when he spray-painted cruel insults all over the fence of what he thought was my home. But I had just sold it—to his boss, Mr. Harrison, who caught everything on security cameras. Kevin lost his job, his dignity, and the last bit of power he thought he had.
We were married for seven years, and I spent most of it ignoring red flags. When I caught him cheating, he blamed me. Leaving him was tough, but moving just across the street to start fresh was the best thing I ever did.
Soon after, I met Oscar—gentle, loyal, and the opposite of Kevin. As our relationship blossomed, Kevin’s behavior spiraled: late-night calls, surprise visits, even public scenes. I stayed calm—until he vandalized the wrong house. That one impulsive act cost him everything.
When Kevin called raging, I told him the truth: he destroyed himself, not me. I blocked him, married Oscar, and built a calm, loving life. That fence got repainted, and Kevin faded out like the spray paint he used—permanently.