The morning of my wedding felt like the beginning of everything I had worked for. At twenty-nine, I had built a successful career, owned a beautiful home in Elmhurst, and was preparing to marry Marcus, the man I believed I knew completely. We had talked about finances, future plans, and the life we hoped to build together. Fourteen months earlier, we had purchased a home, with most of the down payment coming from my savings. At the advice of my friend Rachel, a real estate attorney, we signed an agreement clearly outlining our ownership interests. It felt like a simple precaution at the time, something responsible adults do before starting a life together. Surrounded by  family and friends who had traveled from near and far to celebrate with us, I was certain I was stepping into a future built on honesty and partnership.