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He seemed to fit her criteria of a guy who could “teach a child to read one day and go scuba diving the next.” “He just stood out,” Armstrong said. We are coming up on five years now, and I still gush when I see him.” He proposed in front of the statue of David while they were on an Italian vacation less than a year later.

Armstrong and her husband were living in different states when they met online.

I wanted a husband who could subsidize my artistic ambitions, and a teacher-writer pairing seemed destined for ruin, especially in the pricey San Francisco Bay Area.

He described himself as average-looking, but lots of fun.

But he was still a penniless graduate student, and I grew irritated when he complained about high menu prices or ordered the cheapest house red.

Financial security became even more crucial a few weeks later, when I quit my job to work on my first book. He told me he was dating a classmate; I was furious that he'd moved on so quickly and stormed out in a fit of jealousy. "But you didn't want me," he said, his voice almost breaking. I love you." Something relaxed inside me, and I buried my face in his chest.

I didn't just miss the sex; I missed our friendship, our laughter, our discussions of politics and literature. I thought about my moneyed childhood and how unhappy and lonely I was for much of it. Sometimes I feel a twinge of jealousy when my friends who married rich talk about second homes in Tahoe. But I also know the price many pay: Their husbands work late, so the bulk of the child care and housework falls on them.

What I craved as a girl was love, which Tim offered in abundance. At our place, you'll find Tim cooking supper or dancing with the two little girls we now have.