Then came life.
A daughter first, then a son. Sleepless nights. Tight budgets. School plays. Soccer games. Family vacations packed into a car where the kids constantly asked, “Are we there yet?”
It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t perfect.
But it was ours.
And for a long time, I believed it was solid.
The First Crack
Thirty-five years into our marriage, something shifted.
It started with numbers.
Our son had recently repaid part of a loan we had given him years earlier. I logged into our bank account to move the money into savings.
But the balance didn’t make sense.
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