My third was to an attorney — a good one, the kind you call when you need something done correctly and fast and quietly, with no loose ends.

And over the rest of that evening and into the next day, working from the edge of my bed with the children asleep down the hall, I went through the entire architecture of my life, one beam at a time, and I made it his-proof.

Every account.

Every property document.

The insurance policies.

The investments.

And, above all, the trusts — the trusts I had set up for my children, for Ben’s future and for the girls’, the money that was not mine to lose and would never, ever be his to touch.

I reviewed all of it.