“An anniversary dinner with the whole family? That sounds wonderful!”
She promised to bring dessert.
When I told Elon, he seemed confused.
“I thought we had reservations at Lucia’s.”
“I changed the plans.”
“Why?”
“I thought it would be nice to celebrate with the family.”
He studied my face.
Then shrugged.
“Whatever you want.”
He had no idea what I’d been preparing.
I wasn’t inviting everyone because I wanted to humiliate him.
I needed the truth to exist somewhere outside my own thoughts.
I’d been carrying it alone for six days.
And I couldn’t keep pretending that our marriage was perfectly normal.
On Sunday afternoon, I cooked dinner.
Chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Vegetables.
I placed the white tablecloth from our wedding across the dining table.
Then I put the folder containing our prenuptial agreement in a drawer nearby.
My parents, Sam and Jessica, arrived first.
Mom immediately took Sophie into her arms.
