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When we finally bought our car, it felt like a turning point in my life. For years, every task had revolved around bus schedules, borrowed rides, and careful planning just to get from one place to another. Suddenly, I could take my daughter to daycare without rushing, stop at the store on the way home, and say yes to opportunities without calculating transportation first.
My husband, Daniel, had paid the down payment, and we split the monthly costs, so I believed the car belonged to both of us. We were building a life together, sharing responsibilities, and I never imagined that something as simple as a car could reveal deeper cracks in our partnership. A few weeks later, my mother called to say she was being discharged from the hospital after surgery.
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