My name is Hannah, and at thirty-five, I believed I held the complete map of the man I married. David and I had been a unit for six years, a journey that began with three slow dances at a wedding and matured into a life anchored by Mia, our four-year-old sunbeam. We weren’t wealthy or perfect, but we were solid—or so I thought until the foundation began to tremble. The shift started when David lost his job. It was a corporate casualty, a round of layoffs that left him adrift. While I stepped up at my law firm, David took...
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