Every time I checked the balance, it felt like I was holding Emma’s future together with both hands.

Elon knew that. At least, I thought he did.

Until the night he showed me exactly how little it meant to him.

Looking back now, I realize the distance between us didn’t begin that night… it had always been there.

“Big night,” Elon said yesterday as he walked into the kitchen, already smiling.

I looked up from the table where I had been going over numbers again, double-checking everything like I always did.

“My boss and his wife are coming to dinner,” he added. “Somewhere nice. This could change everything for me, Reggie.”

I held his gaze for a moment before answering, because I already knew what I would ask first.

“How much is this going to cost?”

He brushed it off immediately, as if the question didn’t matter.

“Don’t worry about it! Just look presentable for once, Regina.”

That didn’t sit right.

“Elon, we don’t really have the luxury not to worry about it.”

He let out a breath, the kind that suggests you’re being difficult without saying it directly.

“Reggie, relax. This is important.”

Important. That word meant something entirely different to me.

Because when I thought about what mattered, I didn’t think about impressing anyone. I thought about Emma.

Still, I didn’t argue. I rarely won those conversations, and I didn’t have the energy to try.

We left Emma with the neighbor, and just as I was about to step out, Elon told me to bring my purse.

That should have been my first warning.