The most recent post was geotagged at a tropical island.

In the photo, he wore an expensive light blue button-down I'd never seen before, his arm around the woman as they stood by the ocean. The sunlight was perfect, making his smile impossibly bright.

"Celebrating Mr. Sterling's promotion! He's officially a junior executive now!"

He'd been telling me lately that work was crazy, always rushing off the phone, but he'd reassure me:

"There's been a ton of orders lately. It's exhausting, but we're getting closer to our goal."

All I could do was tell him to take care of himself, not to push too hard.

I never imagined that his version of "busy" wasn't what I thought it was.

In my mind, he was in the city working as a delivery driver.

During our senior year, my dad's condition deteriorated rapidly. Hospitalizations, paracentesis, albumin infusions, liver dialysis -- every procedure cost a fortune.

Years of treatment had already buried us in debt.

When I needed money the most, Derek brought me his family's savings.

The doctor told us that finding a matching liver donor was nearly impossible and that we should prepare ourselves for the worst.

During that time, Derek visited every hospital he could find, asking whether he could be a living donor -- whether they could transplant part of his liver to my dad.

The tests came back incompatible. It couldn't be done.

But I will never forget how he held me and said, "Ella, I'm so sorry."

He had done everything he possibly could, and he still felt like he'd failed me.

I thought I had found true love.

After my dad passed, Derek said he'd go to the city with a college friend to work and help me pay off the medical debts.

I wanted to go with him, but he said the city was no place for me. He told me to stay home with his parents -- I wouldn't have to work myself to the bone, and I could help look after them on his behalf.

I couldn't refuse. After all, the old couple had given us their life savings for my dad's treatment.

I owed them that much.

When he first got to the city, he said the pay in his field wasn't enough, so he started doing deliveries, working fourteen-hour days.

Knowing he couldn't afford distractions while riding his bike, I rarely reached out to him. When I missed him too much, I'd send a text and wait for him to call when he had time.

I never imagined that his time was actually spent on another woman.

Bars. Restaurants. Movie theaters.

Every hour I thought he was out there hustling for our future, he was actually living a life I couldn't imagine.

While I sat there staring at my phone, Jamie toddled over on tiptoe, reaching for it.

He was practically bouncing: "Who's that next to Daddy?"

I panicked, locked the screen, and pressed the phone against my chest. My throat tightened.

"...Go tell Grandma and Grandpa dinner's ready."

Jamie ran off obediently. I moved through the motions mechanically -- setting out the food, fixing plates, coaxing my son to eat.

But the images I'd just seen kept flashing through my mind.

Four years.

I had always felt like I owed Derek's parents. I took on every household chore without being asked.

Shortly after he left, I discovered I was pregnant.

My first instinct was not to keep the baby. We were in no position to raise a child.

But Derek came home, held me, and wept. He said he felt useless for not being able to save my father. He begged me to keep our child. He swore he would work himself to the bone to give us a good life.

Once again, his tears and his sincerity moved me. I kept the baby.

Believing he was out there from dawn to dusk doing deliveries, I couldn't bring myself to spend the few thousand dollars he wired home each month.

Once Jamie was a little older, I started picking up odd jobs while looking after him -- washing dishes, waitressing, working the register. I tried everything.

I thought if we could just save up enough, I'd open a small shop, and he could come home, and we'd finally be together again.

We were almost there...

That night, after I got Jamie to sleep, I sat alone in the pitch-dark living room and opened that account again.

"Sunny Side." That was her username.

I scrolled to the very first post and started reading.

It was from exactly four years ago.

"Celebrating Derek's graduation!" In the photo, she was making a silly face, holding a cake up to a man who was grinning from ear to ear.

So on the day my father died -- the day Derek said he was at a hospital out of state searching for a donor and couldn't make it back in time -- he was celebrating.

The third post from the bottom was at a nightclub.

"Mr. Sterling's feeling down tonight. We're not going home until we're wasted."

The photo showed the reflection in a cocktail glass, his profile barely visible.

The day I was pregnant and we were supposed to go to the courthouse for our marriage license -- the day he said he'd come down with a terrible flu and slept through the whole day -- he'd been out drinking.

A post from three years ago, at an upscale restaurant.

"Mr. Sterling finally popped the question! He says I'm the only woman he'll ever want to marry."

The photo showed the woman's radiant smile, her hand extended to show off a massive diamond ring. In the background, Derek's profile was faintly visible. He was cutting a steak with effortless elegance, like something out of a movie.

And on the day Jamie was born -- the day Derek said he'd gotten into a bike accident while rushing to the hospital and couldn't make it -- he was on one knee for someone else.

All these years, I had only been a footnote in his life.

He came back to play his part when he needed to, and went back to his real life when he didn't.

All the warmth I thought I'd found in our suffering, all the support I thought I'd found in despair, all the devotion I believed we shared in poverty -- it was all just a fantasy I'd constructed on my own.

His world held so many things I never knew about.

His timeline was filled with moments that made a mockery of everything I'd felt.

Tears dripped onto the screen.

The further I scrolled, the colder I became.

By the time I finished scrolling through every post, Derek's name lit up on my screen.

I picked up without thinking.

"Is Jamie asleep? I got off work late today, didn't get a chance to video call you guys." His voice was warm, intimate.

It jolted me back to reality.

"...He's asleep."

"What's wrong? How about we FaceTime right now? I'm a little worried about you."

Before I could answer, he added, "It's just that my roommate's already asleep, so I'd have to step outside."

Normally when he said something like that, I'd tell him not to bother. I always hated putting him out.

"Sure," I said softly.

He seemed to pause for a moment, then laughed lightly. "Okay, give me a second."

I knew that video call was never going to come through. But I waited anyway.

Sure enough, a text came shortly after: "Signal's terrible out here. Tried a few times but it won't connect."

"I'm pretty tired today. Going to sleep first. I'll call you and Jamie early tomorrow, okay babe?"

I didn't reply.

Over the past four years, there had been so many moments just like this. I had accepted every excuse he handed me, filled in every gap he left behind.

The second he showed even a hint of exhaustion, I'd blow it way out of proportion, convinced it was my fault for being a burden.

And every time he made it seem like he was sacrificing something for my sake, I'd be the one to say, "Never mind."

I typed out a message, weighing every word: "Derek, Jamie's in school now, and your parents should be able to look after him. How about I come join you? Two incomes would be faster."

The phone rang instantly.

"Where is this coming from? Didn't I say I'd have enough saved up to come home soon?" Derek was trying to keep his voice even, but I could hear every ounce of his irritation.

"I just think you're working too hard..."

"You want to help? Then stop making things harder for me!" He snapped, then caught himself in an instant and softened. "Sorry, I really am exhausted today. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Mom and Dad are getting older. Taking care of Jamie is a lot for them. Just stay put and wait for me. I'll be home to see you soon."

"Don't make me worry about you out here, okay?"

I was silent for a moment. "Okay. Then maybe when you come back, we can finally make it official."

Derek's patience finally ran out. "We'll talk about it when there's time. I'm going to sleep."

We'd never managed to actually get married. Even after Jamie was born, somehow there was never the right moment.

Now I understood -- it wasn't that there'd been no opportunity. He simply didn't want to.

After hanging up, I got up and walked to Jamie's room.

He was sound asleep, and I lay down gently beside him, pulling him into my arms.

That night, I replayed every day of the past six years in my mind.

And as clarity returned, I knew exactly where to find the truth.