My husband forgot to hang up the phone.
He thought our conversation had ended.
He was wrong.
What I heard in the minutes that followed changed the way I looked at my marriage forever.
And by the time our second wedding anniversary arrived, I had prepared a surprise he never saw coming.
My name is not important.
What matters is what happened between my husband, Elon, our three-month-old daughter, Sophie, and me.
Elon and I had been married for two years.
When Sophie was born, I went on maternity leave from my well-paying job and stayed home with her.
I was exhausted almost every day, but I was also happy.
At least, I thought I was.
Elon, however, seemed to become more distant after Sophie arrived.
He rarely helped me with the baby.
He spent most of his time at work.
His “late meetings” slowly became almost nightly.
At first, I tried to understand.
He had a demanding job.
Maybe he was under pressure.
Maybe becoming a father had made him feel responsible for working even harder.
I told myself all of those things because I wanted to believe my marriage was still what I thought it was.
