His brother and sister-in-law.
I invited all of them to our house.
“Anniversary dinner,” I told them.
Elon seemed happy.
A little surprised.
But happy.
Sunday morning, I cooked.
Roast chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
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.
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.
