Falling for My Ex Again: A Christmas Reunion

Jessica's POV

Some days leave no warning before they ruin you.

That Tuesday had started very ordinarily, like every other day. I'd been curled up on my couch, searching Pinterest for ideas for Lily's birthday, pretending not to notice how different things had felt with Ethan lately.

We were the enviable couple, Ethan and I. Everyone said so. My father had introduced us, hoping to cement a business connection, but we'd fallen into a fierce, blinding love instead. It was fast, overwhelming, and utterly complete.

Lately, though, Lily had been monopolizing my time, buzzing with excitement over her upcoming celebration. I'd been feeling a little guilty, mentally vowing that once Lily's birthday was over, I'd steal Ethan away for a week; lock the world out, and maybe even remember what it felt like to breathe against his skin again. The last time we'd been together, I couldn't stand the scent of his cologne; it had made me nauseous. But since then, something between us had gone cold.

My phone buzzed, vibrating just as I set it down to pick up my glass of juice. A text from Lily. I smiled, reaching for it, expecting a flurry of logistical questions about the cake.

But when the message opened, my smile died.

It wasn't a text at all. It was a video file, and the thumbnail alone was a punch to the gut. The low lighting, the rumpled sheets, the flash of a familiar, dark-haired man, it was a nightmare made digital.

I pressed play.

It was Ethan. And on top of him, obscuring his face and her eyes closed in what looked like bliss, was Lily.

The air rushed out of my lungs and my mind, usually so quick to panic, went frighteningly still, observing the destruction with a horrifying, clinical clarity.

My lover and my best friend were having an affair.

My stomach seized, a sudden, violent spasm, and bile rose hot and sharp in my throat, tasting of ash and disbelief. I scrambled off the couch, the blood draining from my face, and barely made it to the bathroom before I was retching, convulsing into the toilet, expelling everything I'd consumed that day.

My whole body was weak, trembling against the cold tile of the bathroom floor. I knelt there, leaning against the wall, trying to suck air back into my starved lungs.

No. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. Maybe it wasn't Ethan. Maybe it was someone else.

But my phone started buzzing again. I dragged myself back to the couch, my hands shaking so violently I almost dropped them. It was Lily, a new string of texts flooding the chat, malicious and triumphant.

"Ethan hasn't been cold, Jessie. He's been busy with me. He never wanted you. He only ever wanted someone like me."

"You really thought your innocent little act could hold him? Nobody likes a naive good girl, Jess."

"He does not love you anymore, Jess. Open your eyes!!!"

Each message felt like a dagger twisting in my chest. No wonder he'd been so quiet and distant lately. It wasn't work; it was guilt. He hadn't just betrayed me; he'd done it with the one person I trusted most. And now she was throwing it in my face.

I stared at the screen, watching the video over and over again as my hands shook. Just then, I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my lower abdomen. I shifted, trying to find a position that eased the new, alarming discomfort, but it only intensified.

And then I saw it. A dark, terrifying stain was spreading across the fabric of my dress.

Blood.

Blinding panic finally broke through the fog of betrayal. Ignoring Lily's still-buzzing stream of cruel messages, I grabbed my keys and ran out of the house.

The hospital was a blur of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic smell of fear. I was wheeled into a room and asked all sorts of questions. I could barely answer them, my mind still replaying the video, while my body shook with every wave of pain.

The doctor, a kind-faced woman, finally returned, holding a chart.

"Ms. Miller, I have news for you. The first is that you're pregnant."

The words hit me like a slap to the face. Pregnant. A baby. Ethan's baby.

Today was a day that just kept on giving, wasn't it?

I was about to ask how far along I was when the doctor's expression turned grave.

"The second is that you've experienced what we call a threatened miscarriage. Due to severe, sudden emotional distress, your body went into a state of shock, causing internal hemorrhaging. The life inside you is extremely fragile right now. You need absolute rest. No stress, no shocks, and we need to monitor you closely."

I didn't hear the rest of her instructions about medications and follow-up appointments. I only heard the words: fragile life and extreme emotional distress; a reminder that the very love I had clung to, the love that had been violently ripped away, had nearly destroyed the one miracle it had created.

The drive back home hours later was agonizingly slow.

I returned to the silent, suffocating apartment, which now felt less like a sanctuary and more like a crime scene, and sank onto the edge of the couch, the medical report heavy in one hand, and my phone in the other.

Pregnant. Betrayed. Alone.

My hand hovered over the phone, my thumb resting near the call button for Ethan. What should I do? Should I tell him? Tell the man who had traded me for my best friend, that I have his baby? Would the news of a baby undo what had already been done, now that Ethan didn't want me anymore?

The sound of keys turning in the front door made me jolt in panic.

Ethan. It had to be him.

I shoved the medical report deep into the cushion beside me and tried to turn off my phone, but my fingers fumbled, and in my clumsy rush, I accidentally played the video. The same one.

Lily's laugh filled the silence.

I froze.

The front door clicked shut. Footsteps approached. And then he was there, standing in the living room, wearing the same crisp white shirt I'd gotten him some weeks ago.

Our eyes met, and Ethan was standing there; his cold, unreadable gaze fixed not on me, but on the phone in my hand as the screen kept glowing, replaying my worst nightmare.