“My dear husband, Elon.”
He relaxed slightly.
That was his mistake.
“Three years ago, I married a man I thought I knew.”
The room changed.
“I supported his career. I managed our home. I had his child. I spent years making myself smaller because I thought that was what love required.”
Elon’s smile vanished.
“Grace,” he said quietly.
I continued.
“For the past year, I’ve been exhausted. I’ve been caring for our baby mostly alone. And every time Elon came home late, I convinced myself that it was for our future.”
His face was losing color.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I smiled.
“Giving a toast.”
Then I looked around the table.
Both families.
My sister now holding Sophie.
His mother.
My father.
Everyone was watching me.
“Six days ago, I called Elon to ask if he would be home for dinner.”
Nobody moved.
“He told me to stop checking up on him. Then he put his phone down without ending the call.”
