I thought that any day now my fixation on the relationship between Rob and money and me would subside, and I would move on to cover other aspects of my journey contemplating separation.

Not so fast. Something most unexpected has happened: a windfall!

Tens of thousands of dollars may not be much to you readers, but given my life-long struggle with money, it's like manna from heaven. It could even put a large dent — nay, it could halve — the student loan debt I'm so resigned to be paying for the rest of my life that I didn't even make it part of my financial story previously.

But there's a catch: This windfall is Rob's. The company he works for has been sold and his stock shares are being paid out.

This sudden change in circumstance makes me realize I never thought true security was in the cards for either of us, together or separately. I never considered we would move on from renting to owning, from budgeting around car and student loan payments with no nest egg in sight. Struggling, apparently, was part of my identity. And part of how I saw us as a couple.

Mildly interesting, sure, but you're all wondering why I'm musing thus if it's Rob's money. Indeed, in my last post I attested that I couldn't let Rob pay for my past mistakes. I still feel that way. But Rob — even with the knowledge I'm apartment hunting to instigate a trial separation — is remarking: "We can pay down your student loan!" "We can have a nest egg!" "We can take a proper vacation!"

What is this "we"? Is he dangling a carrot?

While I have no intention of biting for the wrong reasons, I do wonder: Do I deserve any of this money? Years ago I nursed him through crippling self-doubt and encouraged him to go the direction professionally that would reward him for his talents. He has been rewarded. Do I get a take?

Of course, if I had $5,000 of that money, it would be my ticket out. Very tricky ground indeed.