Chapter 158: The Prototype Apartment

The first completed apartment from Sunroom's housing project opened for inspection on a bright Monday morning.

Freya arrived before everyone else.

She walked through the small space slowly.

The finished apartment looked almost exactly like her drawings.

The foldaway dining surface worked smoothly. The movable partition created a private work area without blocking the window. Storage surrounded the entryway and extended beneath the bed platform.

Nothing was extravagant.

Everything had a reason.

Rachel arrived carrying coffee.

"You look emotional."

"I'm checking workmanship."

"You're emotional."

Freya accepted the coffee.

The developer's operations team conducted a full inspection. Maintenance staff tested cabinet hardware. Leasing staff photographed the rooms. A group of prospective renters had been invited to provide feedback.

Their reactions mattered most to Freya.

One woman opened the utility closet and said, "Finally, somewhere for a vacuum."

Freya almost turned toward the developer with unbearable smugness.

Rachel stopped her with a look.

Another renter loved the work nook.

A young couple suggested adding a second power outlet near the dining surface.

Freya wrote it down immediately.

By the end of the day, the prototype scored significantly higher than the developer's previous model unit in usability testing.

The remaining two unit types were approved.

Sunroom's name appeared in an architecture trade publication the following month.

Freya expected a small mention.

Instead, the article focused on her unusual career path from novelist and publisher to interior-design entrepreneur.

She disliked the headline.

FROM BOOKS TO BUILDINGS: FREYA STONE REINVENTS HERSELF AGAIN.

"Again?" she complained.

Mia looked innocent. "Technically accurate."

Freya did not want her life packaged as endless reinvention. She felt more like she was finally gathering pieces that had always existed.

Writing.

Design.

Business.

The original Freya's ambitions.

Her own habits from the previous world.

None needed to cancel the others.

Louis visited the prototype after work.

He opened cabinets, tested the partition, and examined the lighting.

Freya followed him suspiciously.

"Why are you inspecting like an investor?"

"I'm a husband."

"More dangerous."

He stopped beside the window.

"It's good."

Freya smiled.

"Actually good?"

"Actually."

She leaned against him.

The apartment was modest compared with every mansion Louis had known growing up. Yet he seemed perfectly comfortable standing there.

Freya remembered how guilty she once felt feeding him ordinary breakfast after his supposed fall from luxury.

How absurd.

Louis had never needed marble counters to remain Louis.

And Freya had never needed luxury bags to become valuable.

They left the prototype after sunset.

Behind them, the lights remained on for the leasing team preparing the apartment for its first tenant.

Something that began as a forgotten sketch was about to become someone's home.

Freya asked Sunroom to document renter feedback six months after move-in. She wanted to know which clever ideas became annoyances once novelty disappeared. Rachel approved. The developer, now thoroughly converted to practicality, even agreed to share maintenance data.

Freya made a note of the development and returned to the practical work in front of her. She had learned that a complicated life became manageable only when she separated what she knew, what she suspected, and what she could actually do next. Louis respected that habit, even when his instinct was to solve everything immediately. For now, they chose the next useful step and left the unanswered part where it belonged.

Freya made a note of the development and returned to the practical work in front of her. She had learned that a complicated life became manageable only when she separated what she knew, what she suspected, and what she could actually do next. Louis respected that habit, even when his instinct was to solve everything immediately. For now, they chose the next useful step and left the unanswered part where it belonged.