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.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I smiled.
“Giving a toast.”
Then I turned my gaze around the table.
Both families.
My sister, now holding Sophie.
His mother.
My father.
Every person there 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.”
Elon became completely still.
