The heart of a cheater is empty and hollow, an abyss in which nothing may grow or thrive. The heart is black and beatless, a void. It's a place in which nothing may hold onto, especially love. Especially. It is difficult to understand why someone is unfaithful. It is also difficult to understand how someone you love is capable of abuse…especially toward you. Mental or physical, abuse is abuse.

Elle Woods was coming to terms with the fact that she was to be a single mother. She would never see Emmett Forrest again, and she was alright with that. It had been a solid nine months since she'd seen him last, so her heart had had a great deal of time to mend itself. Her mind healed first, getting used to the fact that their relationship was over rather quickly; it was her heart that was stubborn. In her heart, she craved him: she visited places she knew he frequented often just to catch a glimpse of him, even though she knew he wasn't in the state anymore. He was with his new girlfriend, loving and laughing and screwing and living, while she was still in Massachusetts, hating and crying and…dying. She felt dead inside. Her heart took a long time to heal, but it did, eventually.

The abuse that he inflicted upon her was nothing that she had ever encountered before. Physical abuse she could have dealt with. Elle was a strong woman, and she was also very strong willed and she had quite the temper, so the second any of her previous lovers ever thought of laying a hand on her, they would have been laid out faster than an ironing board. It was the mental abuse that caught her off-guard. Emmett was like an army general playing Who Sunk My Battleship? He was a master at psychological warfare, and he was a master at making her life a living hell. He made her wake up hating her life.

With a sigh, she looked over at the bassinet next to her, and reached for it from her hospital bed. She gently ran her fingers of the head of the small infant sleeping inside of it. Her lithe fingers tangled in his brown hair slightly, so she smoothed the thin hair out with her hand.

The tiny, blue card attached to the plastic bin read, "My name is Ethan Jacobs Woods. I'm a bouncing baby boy and I'm a breast-fed baby! I was born on July 7th, 2011 at 4:13am. I weigh 5 pounds, 14 ounces and I am 21 inches long! My mommy is Elle Woods, and my daddy is _."

Of course that space was left blank. Elle wouldn't put his name on there, anyway. Emmett's name wasn't on the birth certificate, either.

Ethan began to stir. He'd had a busy day. He was only about seven hours old. Elle was thankful that it took such a short amount of time for everything to calm down. She was happy to be alone. Her parents, Paulette, Kyle and the PMS girls were all either at home or in the cafeteria eating lunch. She liked that she had this time to think and bond with her new son.

She managed to swing her legs over to the edge of the bed with a grunt and a muffled curse word, and then she pulled the bassinet closer to her. She gently picked up her little boy, and cradled him in her arms. After gazing into those bright green eyes for a moment, she lied back in the bed with him on her chest and put herself and the tiny boy to sleep.

It would be a tough journey, and every day would be a challenge. Every day would-

"Elle?"

Her eyes snapped open. She'd know that voice anywhere. Her heart began to race, faster and faster, and her stomach began to do flip flops. She slowly made eye contact with the man that ruined her life and made it beautiful at the same time.

"Emmett," she said, her voice shaking. The baby on her chest rose and fell with every sharp and tense breath she took. She just stared at Emmett. What the hell else was she supposed to do? As far as she knew, he didn't even know they had a son until that moment.

He chose to speak first. "Um…is-is that…" He couldn't seem to talk. He couldn't seem to find any words to describe the situation. He began to cry. Tears welled up in his eyes faster than he could stop them.

"I told you, Emmett. I told you I was pregnant and you didn't believe me!" she cried, her voice begging to crack and break beneath her. She suddenly broke down in tears, clutching the tiny baby to her chest as she did so. Sobs wracked her tiny, exhausted body. She wished that she could forget. She wished that she could go back and tell herself NO.

She wished that none of this had ever happened.

A woman's desire for revenge outlasts all her other emotions, but Elle's desire for love outlasted that more than anything else.

She can't go back, but we can.