Green beans.
Homemade pumpkin pie.
I arranged the table beautifully.
I dressed Sophie in one of her sweetest outfits.
And when everyone arrived, I greeted them with a smile.
Dinner felt warm.
Normal.
Everyone laughed.
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They talked about how beautiful Sophie was.
How wonderful it was to see all of us together.
Elon was at his best.
Charming.
Confident.
Playing the part of a successful husband and devoted new father.
At one point, he even lifted his glass and talked about how lucky he was to have me.
Everyone smiled.
I did too.
Then dessert was served.
And once everyone had settled comfortably back into their chairs, I stood up.
Water glass in hand.
“I’d like to make a toast.”
The table fell silent.
Everyone looked at me warmly.
They were expecting something sweet.
Elon was too.
At first.
Then I noticed something change in his expression.
Because I had never been someone who stood and took control of a room.
I had always been the quiet one.
The agreeable one.
The woman sitting along the edge.
That night, I wasn’t.
I looked straight at him.
“My dear husband, Elon.”
He relaxed a little.
That was his mistake.
“Three years ago, I married a man I thought I knew.”
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
“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 disappeared.
“Grace,” he said quietly.
I kept going.
“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.”
The color was draining from his face.
