For days, I wandered through our house like a ghost, replaying every memory — our wedding day, the kids’ birthdays, the late-night talks about growing old together. When the lawyer explained that without a marriage certificate or a will, everything would go to Michael’s distant relatives, it felt like my life was collapsing piece by piece. I blamed him for forgetting, for not caring enough to make things official. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and the thought of losing the home we’d built together made it hard to breathe.