one.
The woman sitting at the edge.
That night, I wasn’t.
I looked directly at him.
“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
