When my father passed away last year, he left me his house and a modest amount of savings.

Losing him was devastating — the kind of grief that lingers in quiet moments and ordinary days. But alongside the heartbreak was a quiet comfort: he had made sure I wouldn’t struggle. He had thought ahead. He had protected me.

At the time, I had been with my partner for three years. We weren’t married, didn’t share accounts, and had always kept our finances separate. He was kind in many ways, but money had never been his strength. He spent freely, rarely planned, and more often than not, I was the one covering the larger portion of rent and utilities.