It was the same picture I’d sent Elon.
The one he’d complained about.
Sophie smiling in her sleep.
Her tiny dimple visible.
I stood looking at it.
Renee approached carefully.
“Is the picture okay?”
I nodded.
“It’s perfect.”
That day, I answered emails.
Solved scheduling problems.
Attended meetings.
And remembered why I’d worked so hard to build my career.
When I collected Sophie that evening, her teacher handed me a little report.
She’d eaten well.
Taken her naps.
And apparently spent much of the day smiling.
I placed the report in my wallet.
I still have it.
In the following months, Elon and I continued working through the separation with legal guidance.
He hired his own attorney.
We made arrangements for him to spend time with Sophie.
He visited every Wednesday and every other Saturday.
He stopped making excuses.
Even during a November ice storm, he arrived when he’d promised.
