I am living in a small, rented one-bedroom apartment, working a part-time job just to pay for my own health insurance—a policy that, yes, covers my annual mammograms. My screening last month came back completely clear, thank God.

Sometimes I look back and wonder how a person can live alongside a stranger for twenty-six years without ever seeing their true face.

But I survived the truth, and I will survive the cleanup. To anyone reading this: don’t ever let financial control rest entirely in someone else’s hands, no matter how much you love them. Because when the mask falls off, you might just find out they valued your life at exactly four hundred and twelve dollars a month.