She did not know he was in debt until they had already moved in together. He had always seemed comfortable. He drove a nice car. He wore good shoes. He never flinched when the check arrived at dinner. She assumed he was responsible because he looked responsible. She did not ask questions because asking questions about money felt unromantic, transactional, almost rude. So she moved her furniture into his apartment, merged her life with his, and only then discovered the truth. The credit cards were maxed out, every single one of them. The car was leased far beyond his means, the payments quietly devouring his monthly income. He had not filed taxes in two years. He owed money to friends he had never mentioned. The man she had trusted with her future had been quietly drowning, and he had let her walk into the water without a single word of warning.