I’d been married to Lauren since 1996. I met her when we were both twenty-three; me, fresh out of my accounting degree, and her, finishing her MBA at Northwestern. She was brilliant, ambitious, the kind of woman who made plans in five-year increments and actually followed through. I was the steady one, the practical one, the guy who managed our finances, kept our home running, made sure the bills were paid and the retirement accounts were funded.