He was accustomed to controlling my reactions.
I wasn’t going to give him that chance.
He didn’t know that I knew.
And while he believed his secret remained safe, I had time.
For illustration purposes only
SIX DAYS OF SILENCE
For six days, I lived alongside my husband as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
I began watching him differently.
He carried his phone into the bathroom.
He changed his passcode.
Before his supposed late meetings, he wore cologne and spent extra time deciding what to wear.
I smiled.
Told him to enjoy his evening.
And remembered every detail.
Those six days did something to me that I hadn’t expected.
They didn’t break me.
They brought me back to myself.
For the first time in years, I stopped viewing my marriage through hope.
I looked at it exactly for what it was.
I saw how much I had diminished myself to keep Elon comfortable.
How many times I had swallowed my feelings.
How carefully I had learned to manage his moods.
How many friendships I had let slowly disappear.
How little room I occupied in my own life.
