He looked at me with a wry curve to his lips. “Dr. Petersen congratulated us, then went on about how important couples therapy would be.”
“He thinks we got married too soon.”
Gideon laughed. “He didn’t even want us ha**ng s*x, Eva.”
Wrinkling my nose, I resecured my towel and grabbed a comb for my wet hair.
“Let me,” he said, taking the comb and leading me to the wide lip of the tub. He urged me to sit.
As he combed my hair, I told him about seeing Detective Graves at my Krav Maga class.
“My lawyers tell me the case has been shelved,” Gideon said.
“How do you feel about that?”
“You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
There was no inflection in his voice, which told me it mattered to him more than he’d tell me. I knew that somewhere, deep down inside him, Nathan’s murder was haunting him. Because I was haunted by what Gideon had done for me and we were two halves of the same soul.
That was why Gideon had wanted us to get married so badly. I was his safe place. I was the one person who knew every dark, tormented secret he had, and I loved him desperately anyway. And he needed love more than anyone I’d ever met.
There was a vibration against my shoulder and I teased, “Is that a new toy in your pocket, ace?”
“Should’ve turned the damn thing off,” he muttered, digging his phone out. He looked at the screen, then answered with a clipped, “Cross.”
I heard a woman’s agitated voice coming through the receiver, but I couldn’t make out the words.
“When?” After hearing the answer, he asked, “Where? Yes. I’m on my way.”
He hung up and raked a hand through his hair.
I stood. “What’s wrong?”
“Corinne’s in the hospital. My mother says it’s bad.”
“I’ll get dressed. What happened?”
Gideon looked at me. Goose bumps swept across my skin. I’d never seen him look so … shattered.
“Pills,” he said hoarsely. “She swallowed a bottle of pills.”
WE took the DB9. While we waited for the attendant to bring the car to us, Gideon called Raúl, telling him to meet us at the hospital to take over the Aston Martin when we arrived.
When Gideon slid behind the wheel, he drove with tight focus; every turn of the wheel and press of the accelerator was skilled and precise. Enclosed in the small space with him, I knew he’d shut down. Emotionally, he was unreachable. When I placed my hand on his knee to offer comfort and support, he didn’t even twitch. I wasn’t sure he even felt it.
Raúl was waiting for us when we pulled up to the emergency room. He opened the door for me, then rounded the hood and took the driver’s seat after Gideon got out. The gleaming car was moved out of the drop-off driveway before we walked through the automatic doors.
I took Gideon’s hand, but I wasn’t sure he felt that, either. His attention was riveted on his mother, who stood when we entered the private waiting area we’d been directed to. Elizabeth Vidal barely glanced at me, going straight to her son and hugging him.
He didn’t hug her back. But he also didn’t pull away. His grip on my hand tightened.
Mrs. Vidal didn’t even acknowledge me. Instead, she turned her back to me and gestured at the couple seated together nearby. They were clearly Corinne’s parents. They’d been talking to Elizabeth when Gideon and I came in, which seemed odd to me since Jean-Fran?ois Giroux was standing alone by the window, looking as much like an outsider as Elizabeth was making me feel.
Gideon’s hold on my hand slackened as his mother pulled him toward Corinne’s family. Feeling awkward standing in the doorway alone, I went to Jean-Fran?ois.
I greeted him softly. “I’m very sorry.”
He looked at me with dead eyes, his face seeming to have aged a decade since we’d met at the wine bar the day before. “What are you doing here?”