The night Emily came back, Jackson was already out, numbing his pain with booze and buddies at a bar.

He knew his old flame was back in town before I did but kept it under wraps.

A buddy called, urging me to drag him home.

Battling the storm, I pushed into the VIP section of the bar, soaked to the bone, to find Jackson plastered and miserable.

He looked beaten, knocking back shots, immune to anyone's pleas.

Spotting me, a friend of his quickly signaled to Jackson.

"Man, your lady, all pregnant and drenched, came to fetch you. Time to head home."

"Totally, she hates the stink of booze on you. Better make it up to her, pronto."

As the crowd egged us on, I approached Jackson, the bottom of my white dress dripping wet.

Concerned about his post-surgery heart, I tried to snatch the cigarette from his lips, but he shoved me away.

Jackson's tone was frosty, "Beat it, you aren't my Emily."

Amid the crowd's shock, someone hollered they'd seen Emily at the entrance.

Jackson hesitated, then made to bolt outside. I clutched at his sleeve.

"The press is swarming out there. You'll get snapped. Jen's handling it—just hold tight."

He glanced back, his gaze cutting deep.

"Butt out, or I'll make you regret it."

I recoiled, letting go of him.

All eyes were on us as Jackson, for a possibly non-existent first love, ditched his pregnant wife.

I was already beaten without even seeing Emily face to face.

I spent that whole night on the living room sofa, under a light blanket, with the table lamp glowing. Jackson never came home.

Oscar-winner Jackson Williams Spotted at a Bar with an Unknown Woman became an X sensation.

I ignored every one of Jen's desperate calls.

At dawn, Emily tweeted from her long-dormant account.

"The crush of youth and the love of now can finally be spoken aloud."

"Thankful for the twists of fate that brought you back to my side from the complicated trap, never to part again."

The attached photo showed two silhouettes embracing by a window.

A mirror in the corner caught their reflection.

Zooming in, I saw the diamond ring I'd given Jackson, now on Emily's hand, nestled in his embrace.

In the soft moonlight, their eyes spoke volumes of tender love.

To think, after all the nights I spent cooking for Jackson and reminding him to take his meds, I'd be dismissed as just a "complicated trap."

With the news already buzzing, Emily's post blew up with comments fast.

"Cheating is ugly and I don't approve of it, but with Emily, Jackson's love is real."

"The real outsider here is Zoe, she should step back."

"Remember who braved the snow to warm your hands on set, Jackson?"

"Big deal, Zoe's efforts don't hold a candle to a single word from his first love."

I didn't dwell on their words. Instead, I lost myself in the photo of Jackson looking so tender.

I'd seen that look in someone else's arms too.

But each time I woke up from those dreams, I was clutching a pillow soaked with tears.

Time for a divorce.

I'm done wasting my life.

The next morning, I didn't rush to deal with Jackson's scandal at work. Instead, I went to the hospital for a check-up.

The doctor, looking somber with my results in hand, confirmed the baby wasn't likely to make it.

My health wasn't great, my medication history had impacted the pregnancy.

And the drenching rain last night only made things worse. I was advised to schedule a termination procedure for the following week.

After the appointment, I headed to the office to sort out the mess Jackson left.

As fate would have it, just as I pushed open my office door, there sat Emily on the couch.

Dolled up in her smoky makeup, she broke into a saccharine apology as soon as she saw me.

"Zoe, Jackson and I got carried away last night. It was all the booze-talking. Please, don't take it to heart."

"I'm so sorry for the hassle... Thanks for looking after Jackson these past years..."

"Now that I'm back, you won't have to..."

I cut her off with a chuckle, "Two years hardly count as 'years.'"

Her face fell slightly, and I asked flatly, "What do you want now?"

Her eyes, enhanced by brown contacts, roamed over me, settling on the ring on my finger.

"Zoe, that ring you're wearing, it matches the one Jackson has. I think it's time you gave it back."

She stepped forward, reaching for my arm. I was already on edge, and in my struggle to keep her from discovering the secret beneath the ring, I accidentally struck her face.

Emily exploded, wielding her brand-new Hermes like a weapon, aiming for my head.

The metal clasp gashed my forehead, blood slowly blurring my vision.

A piercing sound filled my ears.

I raised my hand to strike back, only to be restrained by a firm grip from behind.

That once-familiar voice, now harsh and foreign, warned, "Zoe, lay a finger on her and see what happens."