Dad wandered toward the stove and tried stealing a taste of the mashed potatoes.

“Sam!” Mom scolded.

“Quality control,” he replied.

Then Eve and Alex arrived with a cherry pie and a little board book for Sophie.

The house filled with familiar conversation.

Everyone seemed happy.

Elon opened wine.

Dad and Alex discussed football.

My mother and Eve compared family photographs.

For a brief moment, standing in the kitchen doorway, I almost lost my courage.

We looked like a perfectly happy family.

A beautiful baby.

A comfortable home.

Four loving grandparents.

And a husband smiling as though nothing had changed.

Before dinner, I approached Elon while he was opening another bottle.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is there anything going on that I should know about?”

He looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Anything involving work? Or us? Something you haven’t told me?”

He stared directly into my eyes.