For ten years I was his wife in every way, except for one thing – our official marriage. When I asked him for a signature, he just laughed, “It’s just a piece of paper.” The next morning, his smile disappeared.

Because of Michael’s bad credit history, the mortgage was registered solely in my name. I also paid most of my own contribution.

But I never said to him, “This is my home.”

For me, it was our home.

We set up a joint account, paid the bills together, did a renovation, adopted a dog from a shelter and gradually created the life I dreamed of.

Everyone thought of us as a husband and wife.

Michael even sometimes portrayed me as his wife.

Except I didn’t have a ring on my hand.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it.

Then there were excuses.

“Let’s get a job first.”

“Now not the time, too much spending.”

“Let’s finish the renovation first.”

“We have to save some more.”