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That night, Jason called me so many times I finally gave up and turned my phone off.

The next morning, my desk phone buzzed so hard it rattled my coffee cup.

My mom's name lit up on the screen.

The moment I picked up, her voice came through — high and excited.

"Vivian! You sneaky girl, keeping something this big from me!"

"If Jason hadn't posted on Instagram, I never would've known you two had been together for six years."

"He's even wearing that old watch you gave him in high school."

"Stop whatever fight you're having and come home for dinner — I'm calling him over tonight!"

I went quiet for a moment before stopping her.

"Mom, we didn't have a fight. We broke up."

"Stay out of it, please. He's the one who decided I wasn't good enough. That's why it ended."

After I hung up, I finally looked at my messages. There were over a dozen unopened ones.

Sophie had sent a long screenshot.

Jason's Instagram post — just one line of text.

Don't fight with me. It makes me sad.

The photo was one from our third year of university, a hiking trip. He was looking at the camera. I was caught in profile, blurred at the edge of the frame.

Below the screenshot, Sophie had added: comments already in the hundreds, mutual friends are going insane

Natalie Sterling's comment had the most likes.

Captain Calloway, I thought you were single! So you've been with someone all this time?

My stomach turned.

I pressed a hand against it.

Six years. I'd begged him for a single photo. He'd always had a reason not to.

And now this — the thing he'd kept hidden and shameful for six years — had become the currency he was dangling over my head.

I texted Sophie back.

Yeah. That's my scumbag ex.

Her replies came in rapid-fire, each one more scathing than the last.

I laughed out loud.