Her name was Sierra. Elon complained that I sent too many pictures of our three-month-old daughter, Sophie. Then he told Sierra he wanted to leave me, marry her, and that I was too distracted by the baby to suspect anything. My hands went cold.
When Elon came home with flowers and chocolates, he acted like nothing had happened. He kissed me, smiled at Sophie, and told me he’d had a terrible day at work. I wanted him to be simply a terrible husband, but watching him lovingly hold our daughter reminded me that people can carry conflicting truths.
The next day, Elon suggested I stay home instead of returning to work. Childcare was expensive, he said, and we could live comfortably on his salary. After what I’d overheard, his suggestion sounded less like concern and more like control. I confirmed my return to work and quietly spoke with a family-law attorney about my options.
