Two days after what should’ve been a celebratory moment, the women of The Real Housewives of Atlanta are still reeling—not from the glam, but from the gall. Kenya’s hair spa launch, once a glitzy milestone, ended in full Bravo spectacle: risqué poster boards, veiled threats, and a takedown that felt less like shade and more like scorched earth.
Brit, back home and visibly shaken, is left picking up the pieces. The fallout is real. Friends. Business partners. Curious onlookers. Everyone’s reaching out—and not in solidarity. The emotional toll is written all over her face as she shares that the images Kenya unearthed were, at one point, scrubbed from the internet. Which means someone had to go looking.
And here, I pause. Because whatever your opinion on Brit’s behavior (yes, the pistol comment was wild), no one deserves this kind of public humiliation—especially not during someone else’s ribbon-cutting ceremony. What’s especially dissonant is watching Kenya, once a frequent target of this exact brand of mean girl theatrics, weaponize that same energy with alarming precision.
Call it karma or call it calculated—but either way, it was brutal.
Back at Brit’s house, Kelli stops by for a much-needed check-in—and let’s be honest, it’s refreshing to see someone show up as a real friend. As they debrief the spa-opening-from-hell, Kelli mirrors what every viewer was thinking: Why blow up your own event like that? Valid question. Brit, still processing, clocks that Kenya was angling for a full-on meltdown, trying to provoke her into playing the aggressor.
And quiet as it’s kept, this isn’t a new pattern. Nene Leakes and Phaedra Parks—former queens of the RHOA court—have both gone on record about Kenya’s gift for provocation. This latest stunt? Just more evidence that some stripes don’t fade with age.
Later, Shamea opens her home (and emotional bandwidth) in hopes of restoring some sense of sisterhood. The vibes are…tense. The women are aligned on one thing: Kenya’s takedown was more than petty—it was premeditated. But that’s not the only elephant in the room. Angela seizes the moment to confront Porsha about a shady comment made at the bank dinner. Porsha, in true Porsha fashion, brushes it off with a breezy “just joking”—but her confessional cuts a little deeper. Translation? She said what she said.
Enter Drew, stage left, and suddenly the room gets a bit heavier—and a lot more layered. She’s knee-deep in court prep, navigating the emotional terrain of a divorce that seems to be unraveling in real time. But before she can even exhale, Angela steers the conversation to Porsha, gently probing how she’s holding up through her own split. Porsha admits things have been tough, especially after her daughter, Pilar, asked the question no parent wants to hear mid-divorce: “Where’s Simon?” It’s the kind of moment that yanks you out of the group chat and into real life. Even Drew, usually guarded, offers a soft moment of solidarity—she knows this storyline all too well.
Meanwhile, Kelli continues to rise as the group’s unofficial peacemaker-in-heels. She floats the idea of a girls’ brunch, hoping to recalibrate the group’s chaotic energy. She doesn’t let things slide either—point-blank asking Drew and Porsha if they’re ready to let bygones be brunch. Porsha, in a surprising pivot toward maturity, says she’s good with coexisting and keeping the peace. Growth? Maybe. Tension under the surface? Absolutely.
Over at Kelli’s house, things are calm—for a minute. She and her daughter Chloe are flowing through a mother-daughter yoga session, one of those rare moments of softness in a season full of sharp turns. But peace doesn’t last long. Kelli’s phone buzzes with a message from her lawyer—an article has dropped, dredging up her messy split from her ex-husband, with accusations flying about financial mismanagement and blurred business lines.
As Kelli processes the news, Chloe sits nearby, mostly unfazed. And then she says it—“He doesn’t want me.” It’s a gut punch, the kind that makes the fourth wall disappear. Even more devastating? Chloe says she doesn’t believe in marriage anymore because she doesn’t want to end up like her mother. There’s no reality TV edit that can soften the weight of that.
Meanwhile, Drew is packing up for the week—another rotation in the court-ordered custody shuffle with Ralph. Their estranged cohabitation is tense enough, but even the mundane becomes an argument. This week’s battle? An exterminator. Somehow, even pest control becomes a pressure point. And just when it couldn’t get more awkward, the editors cut to Ralph in a solo confessional that no one asked for—and certainly no one needed.
Elsewhere in Atlanta, Shamea is putting in work at the studio with R.L. from Next. It’s not just a vanity project—she’s serious about stepping into the music space, chasing a dream she’s long held close. Angela swings by to lend her support and, in a moment of real grace, lightly acknowledges Porsha’s low-key shady comment at the bank dinner—you know, the one where Porsha claimed she thought the track was Drew’s, not Shamea’s. (Let’s be honest: it was shade served with a smile.)
Still, in her confessional, Shamea gives us a rare bit of raw vulnerability. She admits she’s a people pleaser, constantly sidelining her own feelings to keep the peace. Drew joins them in the studio, and while she tries to be supportive, the energy shifts. There’s a moment of connection—two Housewives trying to make music work—but then Drew Drew’s again. She says the music she’s making with Dennis is going to be so successful it’ll pay for PJ’s college tuition. Okay, girl. That’s…ambitious.
Meanwhile, back at Brit’s, the conversation gets heavier. She’s sitting down with her mom, trying to process the nuclear fallout of Kenya’s revenge move. It’s the kind of conversation no daughter should have to have, but Brit’s mother meets her with grace and steady support. Her message? Rise above. Be classy. And while it’s beautiful advice, it doesn’t erase the pain—it just gives Brit something solid to stand on.
Porsha and Shamea meet up for what’s supposed to be a light-hearted girlfriend catch-up—but of course, this is Atlanta. The conversation weaves through everything from IVF to Father’s Day to Porsha’s cooling dynamic with Dennis. Shamea, ever the supportive friend, decides not to bring up Porsha’s backhanded comment from the bank dinner, choosing instead to hold space for Porsha’s post-divorce sadness. It’s considerate, sure—but you can’t help but notice the emotional math here. Once again, Shamea subtracts her own feelings to keep the peace.
Later, Kelli hosts a peace brunch in the hopes of rebalancing the group’s fractured energy. It’s a serene setup, but the RSVP list says it all: no Kenya (shocker), and Porsha claims she’s suddenly under the weather. The vibes are hopeful, but fragile.
Brit, trying to find her footing after the mess Kenya unleashed, opens up to the group. She says the worst is over, but her body language tells a more tense story. And when Angela asks about how Brit lost her license—likely looking for clarity, not conflict—the mood shifts fast. Brit bristles, clearly still raw, and that simmering trauma spills over, misdirected. It’s less a blow-up and more a fray at the edges, but it’s enough to remind us that healing is rarely linear—especially in a room full of Housewives.
The ladies regroup, and Shamea attempts to ask the question again, for the sake of gaining clarity, and Brit opens up that because of all the backlash, she is under investigation with her insurance license. (Which was Angela’s whole point, because she mentioned she also had her insurance license).
Shamea closes out the brunch with some positive words to help get the ladies back on track.
Next week, we’ll see the ladies head to Nashville, Tennessee for Porsha’s birthday.
Watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta on Sundays on Bravo, and catch up with our reviews each week here.
