On our wedding night, I lowered my wife’s dress and froze at the faded scars across her back. “Emily, what happened?” I whispered. She trembled, looked away, and finally answered softly, “My stepfather did it.”

That was harder than I expected.

My instinct had always been to solve problems.

To take over.

To protect.

But Emily didn’t need me to become the hero of her story.

She needed me to stand beside her while she became the author of it again.

Richard’s business world slowly unraveled.

Several properties were sold.

Financial disputes followed.

Emily’s mother eventually filed for divorce after learning how little she had actually known about their finances.

But something more important was happening at the same time.