When I Discovered Husband Was Billionaire, I Divorced Him

"It's Daddy!" Three-year-old Jamie came running over to call me for dinner, but the moment he saw the photo on my phone, he squealed with delight.

My mind went completely blank.

In six years with Derek Sterling, I had never once seen him smile like that -- completely carefree, relaxed in a way I didn't recognize.

Because our life together had always been defined by poverty and hardship.

Derek and I met during our sophomore year of college. After sharing an elective class, he started showing up around me, always flashing that wide, easy grin.

He was good-looking. The hoodies he wore never showed a brand name, but they fit him well.

People that easy to be around are usually either deeply loved or loaded.

I guessed it was the latter.

At the time, I was consumed with worry over my dad's health and the mounting medical bills. I wasn't in the headspace for some guy flirting with me.

Later, we were randomly assigned to the same group project. I assumed he'd be the type to coast and leech off everyone else's work, but he turned out to be the most dedicated of us all.

Researching, building the presentation, drafting the talking points -- he practically carried the whole project by himself.

The more time we spent together, the more he surprised me. I learned that he came from a perfectly ordinary, loving family.

I let my guard down.

As my dad's condition worsened, I started splitting my time between the hospital and campus.

Derek heard about it somehow and began showing up at the hospital every other day.

"What are you doing here?"

"Helping out." He set down the thermos he'd brought. "My mom made soup. Have some. Your dad should have some too."

He brought me meals. He sat with my dad so I could rest. He kept an eye on the IV so I could close my eyes for a few minutes.

When I was too exhausted to stay upright, he'd let me lean against him and sleep.

One night, my dad had a sudden hepatic encephalopathy episode and needed an emergency transfer to the city hospital.

I stood alone in the hallway, completely lost.

It was Derek who ran back and forth arranging the ambulance. It was Derek who packed our things. It was Derek who rode with us all the way to Metropolitan Medical Center.

That night, sitting in the back of the ambulance, I looked at him across from me.

He had fallen asleep against the wall, his face drawn with exhaustion, his brow still furrowed even in sleep.

And I remember thinking: if only I could have someone like this beside me for the rest of my life.

That exhausted face from my memory blurred together with the carefree, beaming face on my phone screen.

For a moment, I couldn't tell which one was really him.