The posts from random people in response to the articles were just as painful. They were ugly and judgmental. Post after post discussed how unbelievable it was that Jackson could leave someone as gorgeous as Candace Stile for a plain little nobody like me, how I was a gold-digger looking for my ticket to a life of luxury.

I slammed my laptop closed, tears streaming down my face. I was being publicly flogged for something I didn't do. Jackson told me he had never dated Candace and he hadn't cheated on her with me. I didn't want to think about whether I would have still slept with Jackson even if they had been in a relationship. I didn't want to know the answer.

I turned my cell phone off even though I had already turned off the ringer, sick of the light constantly flashing indicating an incoming call. I turned on the television, hoping to distract myself. I was flipping through the channels when I saw an entertainment news show announcing an exclusive interview with Candace Stile about her relationship with Jackson Reynard in the upcoming segment.

I stayed on the channel, needing to hear what Candace herself would say. Maybe she would admit to never having been involved with Jackson. It was naive but I was desperate for a way out of this.

I was tense as I waited for the commercials to end and then watched with bated breath as the show ran a summary of the alleged accusations of infidelity, complete with pictures of Jackson and me staring into each other's eyes. Finally, the host of the show sat across from Candace, who managed to look breathtakingly gorgeous while looking utterly despondent.

"Candace, thank you so much for talking with me today. I know it's been a rough time for you with the news about you and Jackson breaking today."

Candace put on a brave smile, her voice trembling a little. "Thanks for having me, Robin. I can't lie, it's been really hard. But I decided that hiding wasn't the right decision. I didn't do anything wrong and I want to let women out there know that they shouldn't be ashamed if they get cheated on. It isn't their fault."

The host nodded approvingly. "That's very admirable of you, Candace. Can you tell me what happened between you and Jackson?"

"We've been dating for a year, although I know news of our relationship just recently came out. We were trying to keep it quiet so that we could have some privacy. Even though we're in the public eye, we wanted to keep it to ourselves. I wanted to protect my love for Jackson from prying eyes."

I felt like throwing up as I watched the host nod understandingly. I had to give it to Candace, she was an amazing actress. She looked vulnerable and utterly defenseless as she told her story.

"When did you find out that Jackson was unfaithful?"

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Candace teared up, biting her lip as she struggled to answer the question. "Same as everyone else. I saw pictures of Jackson with another woman online."

"Have you spoken to Jackson since then?"

"Yes, I called him right after I saw the pictures. I was hoping it was all a misunderstanding, and that the pictures were innocent. But Jackson told me that he no longer wanted to be with me. That it was over."

The host handed Candace a tissue, and she blotted at her eyes although I noticed that no tears actually fell.

"So you and Jackson were still together up until today? There had been some rumors that you two had already broken up."

Candace shook her head, looking crestfallen. "Those were just rumors. Up until today, I thought we were still in love."

"What do you know about the woman that Jackson cheated on you with? Our sources tell us that her name is Emma Mills and she works for an ad agency in New York."

"That's about as much as I know," Candace replied glumly. "I don't know her. I've never met her. I don't ever want to meet her. I just want to move on with my life."

I sat in stunned silence as Candace used her last statement as a segue to talk about her single coming out. I wanted to reach inside the television and scratch her eyes out. I didn't understand how she could lie so easily and destroy someone's reputation all for the sake of her own success. She was already rich and famous, but she was greedy for more.

I turned on my phone, ignoring all the voicemails, and called Jackson. He picked up on the first ring.

"Did you see it?" he asked grimly, not bothering to greet me.

"I saw it. I want to find Candace Stile and rip her hair out."

Jackson chuckled despite the circumstances. "I don't blame you. If it makes you feel any better, most of it is hair extensions."

I couldn't suppress a small smile at Jackson's revelation, finding humor in it, despite my world crumbling around me.

"Do you really think it's necessary to come up with an elaborate lie to diffuse the situation? Can't we just see if it fades on its own?"

"This is just the beginning, Emma. Marcie believes that they have a whirlwind of press planned. This could get much uglier before it's over. Having the public turn on you can get pretty nasty. Unfortunately, I've seen it happen way too many times. I'm not worried about me. People tend to forgive celebrities way too easily and I really don't give a shit what they say. But you're going to suffer the brunt of their censure."

"Can't we just say it's all a lie?" I cried. "How can she get away with this?"

"It's all about the illusion," Jackson said bitterly. "People don't care about the truth. They just want a good story and they'll run with it. It doesn't matter if it's a lie, as long as people believe it."

I felt beaten down, unsure how to fight this amorphous enemy that I didn't understand. I was unequipped to deal with this type of situation, so I decided to leave it in the hands of the professionals.

"Okay, let's do whatever we have to do to make this die down."

"I knew you would make the right decision," Jackson said approvingly. "You don't have to do anything yet. Marcie is booking some interviews for me so that I can tell my side of the story. I have my first one tomorrow. In the meantime, don't say anything to anyone, especially the press."

"Don't worry, the last thing I want to do is deal with the press. It's bad enough having them hover around my apartment."

"I didn't think they had discovered where you lived yet." Jackson's voice was hard and flat. "Those bastards are like the plague. I wish I could come over, but that has to wait until after my interview. I'll send someone over."

"No, it's okay Jackson. My doorman got me through the crowd of paparazzi, even though they were like rabid animals frothing at the mouth for a comment. I thought you said they were tamer in New York."




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