We’re back in Atlanta picking up the pieces from Angela’s now-infamous “bank deposit” dinner—a night that was supposed to be classy but ended in chaos (and a pistol mention). Shamea, ever the peacemaker-in-training, invites Angela and Brit over to decompress. Neither of them slept much post-dinner, and Angela reveals the aftermath included heat from the venue and the need for extra security. Housewives: always serving drama and liability concerns.
Then comes the twist—Angela admits she wrote one of the anonymous questions for Kenya, the one about Brit. Her reasoning? She felt Kenya was acting strange, too. Not exactly the supportive friend Brit needed, but hey, transparency is growth… kind of. Brit insists she meant no harm with her comments, but let’s be real: once you say you have a pistol, the vibes shift permanently.
Meanwhile, Kenya is prepping for her salon opening and meets up with Porsha and Kelli to catch up. After last week’s threats, Kenya’s not playing—she adds extra security, and Kelli follows suit. Porsha shows up solo, because honestly, she’s not worried—and she probably shouldn’t be. The production flashbacks don’t lie.
What is surprising? The maturity Kenya and Porsha are showing in their friendship. Porsha even acknowledges that Kenya wisely disengaged during Brit’s outburst, and at this point, Kenya is basically running a victory lap. The group is on her side, and rightly so—when someone hints at weapons during dinner, you call your security team and your lawyer.
Oh, and Kenya’s not above doing a little digging. She threatens a background check on Brit, and Housewives historians know—just ask Lisa Nicole Cloud—those never end well. Still, Kenya remains unbothered. She’s twirling through the drama, per usual.
Later, we catch up with Angela over coffee with her daughter, Ahmauri, and the conversation finally peels back another layer of her life. Ahmauri isn’t Charles’ daughter—Angela reveals that her biological father was killed when she was young—and suddenly, the tension we’ve seen in her family starts to make more sense. Last week, she casually mentioned that her mom had issues with her husband, but now we’re seeing it’s not just surface-level mess—it’s generational, it’s layered, and it’s messy. Things get even more complicated when we learn Ahmauri secretly got married, a move that fractured their relationship in ways that still feel fresh. Credit where it’s due: Angela is showing up fully. The gloss is off, and the vulnerability is real.
Meanwhile, Brit is on an apology tour—starting with lunch and a little light tension with Porsha. She owns up to her behavior, says there’s no excuse, and tries to clear a path back into the group. But Porsha’s not handing out grace for free—and honestly, she shouldn’t. Brit’s drama from the dinner seems more like a projection than a justified reaction. Even Porsha points out that Brit came in with preconceived feelings about Kenya, and that energy was loud. Still, there’s one thing Brit can’t smooth over: the gun comment. That’s not just Housewives-level shade. That’s a red flag.
Back at home, Angela fills Charles in on Porsha’s cryptic “I’ve got tea on him” comment. His response? Something about Porsha barking up the wrong tree and needing to pump the brakes. Classic Charles—cool, clipped, and hard to read. His dry humor toe-drags the line between indifferent and dismissive, and it’s starting to feel like Angela’s trying to emotionally connect with a brick wall. She attempts to open up about the tension in her family, and he barely flinches. Is he emotionally unavailable or just plain uninterested?
Elsewhere, it’s time for Kenya’s big hair spa launch—and true to form, she’s going full glam. Red carpet. Custom signage. Luxe everything. The girls are rolling in, including a fabulous appearance from Miss Lawrence. Kelli pulls up in a sprinter van with Brit, who’s still on her apology tour and comes bearing flowers for Kenya—a sweet gesture, sure, but also wildly optimistic. Considering the level of drama she stirred up and what we, the audience, know, Brit walking into that event without even a pre-convo feels…bold. Or chaotic.
The launch party is giving Bronner Brothers realness—edge control, elegance, and a hint of old-school ATL pageantry. It’s a love letter to the beauty of Black hair, with enough sculpted styles to make the ghosts of hair shows past proud. Kenya really did that. Drew arrives fashionably (read: predictably) late, but at least she comes bearing flowers. Small win.
Kelli is still mid-heart-to-heart with Brit, and we learn Brit’s been grieving—her aunt (on her dad’s side) just passed. It’s a heavy loss, and maybe it helps explain some of her erratic energy around Kenya. Still, grief isn’t a hall pass for bad behavior.
Meanwhile, Porsha and Shamea are debriefing Cynthia—our forever queen of level-headed shade—on the drama she missed. And listen, Shamea said it best: flowers and sorry might be nice, but Kenya has every right to set boundaries. Forgiveness isn’t a group activity. Porsha, clocking the moment with signature precision, knows what time it is: Kenya’s not just hurt—she’s in get-back mode. And when Kenya twirls with a mission? Whew. Let’s just hope there’s no background check printouts at the next brunch.
Production throws Porsha a curveball and asks, “What’s your first thought when you see Brit?” Without missing a beat, Porsha deadpans, “Is her wig tacked down?” It’s giving shady queen energy—and the confessional crown remains firmly on her head.
Meanwhile, Drew finally decides to break the ice with Porsha, but the vibe? Tense. Uncomfortable. Slightly unhinged. Drew’s ready to lay it all out, but Porsha’s not biting. She listens just long enough before doing what any self-respecting Housewife does when the energy’s off—she walks away. Honestly, Porsha’s boundary-setting is admirable, but it does feel like the door is cracking open for a much-needed conversation.
As for Brit, she takes one last stab at redemption. She walks up to Kenya, bouquet in hand, ready to apologize. But Kenya’s already packed up the grace and locked it in storage. She pays Brit dust—straight vacuum cleaner energy. Brit, clocking the frost, bows out early.
But Kenya’s not done. In a full-on, Shakespeare-meets-shade monologue, she declares—once again—that people are trying to tear her down. The target is obvious. Then, just when you think she might let it go, she delivers the final blow: “Take those fake flowers and give them to someone homeless.” Brutal. The edges? Left on the salon floor.
Just when you think the chaos has simmered, Kenya pulls a final stunt that sends the episode into a complete spiral. In the closing minutes, she unveils poster boards—yes, printed, mounted visuals—of Brit in risqué poses, like she’s hosting a scandal-themed gallery wall in the middle of her own salon launch. One poster in and I had to look away. It wasn’t just messy, it was mortifying.
Kenya talked so much about the blood, sweat, and tears that went into building her hair spa, so why choose this moment for a takedown? The opening was flawless. The vibes were high. Everyone was already on her side. And then… this? It was a PR nightmare wrapped in wig glue and glitter. Even the ladies, seasoned vets in Bravo dramatics, were left visibly disturbed.
What should’ve been Kenya’s big win turned into a self-sabotage spectacle. A stain on the red carpet, if you will. At the end of the episode, production shares that this would be the end of the season filming with Kenya.
Watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta on Sundays on Bravo, and catch up with our reviews each week here.
