Moving to the nearest available chair, I got off my feet. Magdalene sat beside me.
"You love him," she said. "I didn't see it. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for what I said to you the first time we met."
"You love him, too," I replied woodenly, my gaze unfocused. "And at that time, I didn't. Not yet."
"Doesn't excuse me, does it?"
I gratefully accepted another glass of champagne when it was offered to me and took a second for Magdalene before the waiter straightened to move on. We clinked glasses in a pitiful display of scorned female solidarity. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up and walk out. I wanted Gideon to realize I'd left, to be forced to leave after me. I wanted him to feel some of the pain I felt. Stupid, immature, hurtful imaginings that made me feel small.
I took comfort from Magdalene sitting silently beside me in commiseration. She knew how it felt to love Gideon and want him too much. That I sensed she was as miserable as I was confirmed what a threat Corinne might be.
Had he been pining for her this whole time? Was she the reason he'd closed himself off from other women?
"There you are."
I looked up as Gideon found me. Of course Corinne was still on his arm and I got the full effect of the two of them as a couple. There were, quite simply, impossibly gorgeous together.
Corinne took a seat beside me and Gideon brushed his fingertips over my cheek. "I have to speak with someone," he said. "Would you like me to bring you back anything?"
"Stoli and cranberry. Make it a double." I needed a buzz. Bad.
"All right." But he frowned at my request before he walked away.
"I'm so glad to meet you, Eva," Corinne said. "Gideon has told me so much about you."
"It can't have been too much. You two weren't gone that long."
"We talk nearly every day." She smiled, and there was nothing fake or malicious in her expression. "We've been friends a long time."
"More than friends," Magdalene said pointedly.
Corinne frowned at Magdalene and I realized I wasn't supposed to know. Was it she or Gideon or both of them that had decided it was best not to tell me? Why cover up something if there was nothing to hide?
"Yes, that's true," she admitted with obvious reluctance. "Although that was some years ago now."
I twisted in my seat to face her. "You still love him."
"You can't blame me for that. Any woman who spends time with him falls in love with him. He's beautiful and untouchable. That's an irresistible combination." Her smile softened. "He tells me you've inspired him to start opening up. I'm grateful to you for that."
I was about to say, I didn't do it for you. Then an insidious doubt drifted through my mind, making a vulnerable spot inside me fold in on itself.
Was I doing it for her without knowing it?
I twisted the base of my empty champagne flute around and around on the table. "He was going to marry you."
"And it was the biggest mistake of my life walking away." Her hand went to her throat, her slender fingers restlessly stroking, as if toying with a necklace she'd normally find there. "I was young and in some ways he frightened me. He was so possessive. It wasn't until after I married that I realized possessiveness is much better than indifference. At least for me."
I looked away, fighting the nausea that rose in my throat.
"You're awfully quiet," she said.
"What is there to say?" Magdalene tossed out.
We all loved him. We were all available to him. In the end, he would make a choice between us.
"You should know, Eva," Corinne began, looking at me with those clear aquamarine eyes, "he's told me how special you are to him. It took me some time to gather the courage to come back here and face you two together. I even canceled a flight I had booked a couple weekends ago. I interrupted him at some charity event he was giving a speech at, poor guy, to tell him I was on my way and to ask for his help getting settled."
I froze, feeling as brittle as cracked glass. She had to be talking about the advocacy center dinner, the night Gideon and I had sex for the first time. The night we'd christened his limo and he'd immediately withdrawn; then left me abruptly.