I stood motionless in my own kitchen.
Sophie reached for my hair and made a little sound against my shoulder.
My husband was telling another woman that the wife caring for his newborn daughter was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Very carefully, I ended the call.
And strangely, I didn’t cry.
Something inside me simply became quiet.
Clear.
That evening, Elon came home carrying flowers.
Cheap grocery-store flowers wrapped in plastic.
He kissed my forehead.
“Missed my girls.”
I looked at the same man I had heard hours earlier promising another woman a future.
Then I smiled.
“We missed you too.”
I put the flowers in water.
