“Yes. Gian—” The other woman shook her head. “That’s neither here nor there. What I’d really like to say to you is that I actually do understand your current predicament. With Rogen and Vin.”
This piqued her interest, though Jewel was still a bit shredded and hung up on Rose-Marie’s previous confession.
Jewel asked, “What do you mean, you understand?”
With a tight smile, she said, “I was once in love with two men at the same time.”
Whoa. Bombshell.
Continuing, Rose-Marie insisted, “It was nowhere near as racy as what I’ve heard of your … affair … around town. You see, the first man I fell in love with, my freshman year of college, went to school at Oxford. I met him at a Christmas party—he was visiting friends who attended San Francisco State. We clicked instantly. Spent the entire break together. Were completely inseparable. I was crazy about him.” She smiled softly at the memory. Then sighed. “But, of course, distance is never a true friend to anyone in love. We wrote regularly. Spoke on the phone. But about a year later, something had begun to change with mine and Gian’s friendship.”
Well, well. Wasn’t this a familiar story?
“One day we were just teasing each other over silly stuff and the next … we were kissing. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
“I can relate,” Jewel told her. “It’s like kismet throws a switch and suddenly—electricity.”
“Exactly.”
They shared a knowing moment.
Then Rose-Marie said, “Of course, I was torn between the two. But I had to be practical about it. Alexander lived in England and had no intention of moving to the States. I never wanted to leave River Cross. So I deliberated over the situation. Vacillated between the two men. Weighed pros and cons. And then I realized that I loved one more than the other.”
That was where the kindred spiritship shattered.
Jewel sat back in her chair, no longer enrapt. “You’re telling me I should choose.”
“It’s only fair, don’t you think? And, honestly, Jewel. What would your future be like, having a relationship with both of them? Where would you live? How would you explain your romantic scenario to people? Would you marry one of them? Both? What about children? How on earth could you manage that? Rogen and Vin are extremely territorial—do you believe they each could accept you carrying the other’s child?”
Now Jewel couldn’t breathe. She sipped her tea as her head spun. Christ, she hadn’t gotten that far with agonizing over the love triangle.
She said, “This is all very new and—”
“My dear,” Rose-Marie interjected, her tone soft again. Maternal. “I’m trying to protect you as much as I am Rogen and Vin. These things always end badly. Someone always gets hurt.”
Jewel could hardly dispute that logic. The threesome had already experienced that. Many times over.
“The difficulty,” the older woman said, “comes when you let it play out for too long. Until something—or someone—snaps.”
Jewel waited for the server to refresh their glasses before she insisted, “The three of us have been very open with one another.”
With a slight shake of her head, Rose-Marie told her, “It’s not ideal, Jewel. Or suitable in any form. And quite frankly, I don’t appreciate hearing the rumors. I’m sure your mother doesn’t, either. Is it fair to hurt her as well?”
That was a strategic stab in the heart, so pleasantly veiled.
But Jewel latched on to her own weapon and said, “I’m surprised you care how any of this affects my parents. You hate my mother. After decades of friendship, you shunned her.”
Rose-Marie’s gaze turned hooded. Clouded. “I’ve never hated Sophia. Not a day in my life. What I feel, Jewel, is a much, much stronger, more loathsome emotion than hate.”
Jewel stared at the woman sitting across from her, a look on her face that almost made Jewel wonder if Rose-Marie thought of herself as some sort of monster.
“What is it, then?” Jewel managed to ask, albeit with trepidation and a hint of fear.
Rose-Marie pinned her with a pained expression. And said, “Envy.”
The breath rushed from Jewel’s opened mouth. Her insides seized up. She continued to stare at Rose-Marie. Aghast.
The self-perceived monster sitting across from her gave a gentle smile. “Eat your salad, dear. I did invite you to lunch, after all.”