I went through the statements with our accountant, not because I expected another scandal, but because the past year had taught me the importance of understanding the systems I had trusted on habit.

We closed unused services, redirected money to our individual accounts as agreed, and made a clean record of what remained.

It surprised me how satisfying small administrative acts could be.

No confrontation, no dramatic revelation, only a woman reclaiming knowledge of her own affairs.

When I found an old receipt from our first vacation, I stopped.

Connor and I had driven to the coast in a car that rattled on every hill.

We’d eaten cheap seafood and walked the beach until our feet hurt.