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But it also clarified things.
I told him plainly: “This isn’t about love. It’s about boundaries. Marriage isn’t a shortcut to someone else’s property.”
Within weeks, he packed his belongings and moved out. No dramatic scene — just quiet resentment and a door closing.
It hurt. Three years isn’t nothing. We had shared holidays, inside jokes, and plans that now dissolved into memory. I questioned myself in the silence that followed.
Was I ungenerous?
But as the weeks passed, the fog lifted.
If my financial position had not changed, would his?