I met him in 2018 at a thing in Brandt Harbour and he asked me what I did and I said I worked in property, which is true in the way that a hospital is a building.
By the third month I had decided not to tell him yet.
By the first year I had decided not to tell him until we were engaged.
By the engagement I had decided not to tell him until after the wedding, because I did not want a man marrying a number.
And after the wedding there was no “until” left, and the thing had become a fact of the household, like the boiler.
And then I built around it. The flat in my name that he thought was a rental. The accountant he never met. The fortnight every February that he thought was my aunt’s and was actually four days with my aunt and ten days of board work for three companies in two countries.
