I knew what protected us: money. Pure and simple. But none of it was mine. What kept me and my daughter safe depended on a marriage I did not have faith in lasting. A man I was not sure of. We were so good half the time, a cosmic kind of love that made everything worth it, but then Mathew’s erratic behavior would take hold. I was caught in this dance with him, each doing the same steps over and over: He would cheat or act up, and I would say I’d had enough. He would beg for forgiveness, crying and promising to get better. For a time, things would be wonderful, so consistent and steady that I
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