Three days after my father di:ed, my husband quit his job and said, “Why bother working? Your inheritance can support both of us.” He immediately promised his mother a new house and offered his sister $200,000. I stayed quiet and let them plan how to spend money they assumed was already theirs. Then the estate attorney called, asked one simple question, and suddenly the entire conversation changed.

Three days after my father died, I walked into the kitchen at ten-thirty in the morning and found my husband sitting there in sweatpants. That was the first sign something was wrong. For twenty-two years, Mark had left for work before eight. Even on sick days, he usually checked email from bed and complained about falling behind. Now he was drinking coffee beside an open laptop as though Wednesday morning had suddenly become Saturday. “Why are you home?” He looked up. “I quit.” At first, I thought I had misunderstood him. “You what?” “I resigned…