She was shaking her head in disgust. “You gave him up for a movie? No career can ever fill the place in your heart where love should be.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I should know.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I whispered.
“Are you insane?” She looked as if she thought I was. “Did you see the way he looked at you? And from everything Dad told me about how he’s been waiting on you hand and foot...” She snorted. “No man does that for a woman, unless he’s desperately in love. Especially a man like Edward St. Cyr.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I repeated, but my voice had turned uncertain. “He just said he didn’t.”
My stepsister looked at me incredulously. “You said you deserved a marriage based on love, and he agreed with you. It sounded like you didn’t love him.”
“What?” I put my hand to my forehead. A tremble was coming up through my body like an earthquake, rising from my feet to my legs to my heart. “Edward knows I love him. He has to know.”
“Did you tell him? Recently, I mean?”
“No, I...” I bit my lip. I’d told him in London, before he’d sent me away. But never since then. Desperately, I shook my head. “He doesn’t love me. He wanted to marry me for the baby’s sake, that’s all.” I looked down at my huge baby bump. “If he’d loved me...”
I sucked in my breath, covering my mouth with my hand.
If Edward had loved me, he would have devoted himself to me, night and day, waiting for me to finish work, letting me choose restaurants, taking me to the doctor, rubbing my feet. Driving watermelon and ice cream to my house at three in the morning. He would have let me choose the house we’d live in. I would have been more important than his career.
His friends.
His country.
I always imagined love to be an action, not a word. His words in London came back to haunt me. If I loved someone, I wouldn’t say it, I’d show it. I’d take care of her, putting her needs ahead of my own. I’d put my whole soul into making her happy....
A choked sound came from the back of my throat.
What kind of man would do so much for a woman, unless he loved her?
And worse—what kind of woman would not even notice, until it was too late?
“He loves you,” Madison said quietly behind me. “And you threw it away for some stupid role in a movie.” Her lips curled as she shook her head. “When I suggested you to the movie producer, I thought I was making amends for Moxie McSocksie....”
“You’re the one who suggested me for the part?” I breathed.
“Yeah.” She looked at me accusingly. “I didn’t know you’d use the movie as an excuse to ruin your life!”
“You’re one to talk,” I said weakly.
“I know.” She held her hands wide. “Look at me, Diana. Totally alone. With the hole in my heart. If a man ever loved me like that, if he saw all my flaws and could love me anyway...” She looked away. “I’d never let him go.”
“He cheated on me,” I whispered.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you still so sure?”
I stared at her. Then I turned and ran up to my bedroom. I dug through my purse until I found an old ratty card. My heart pounded as I dialed a number on my phone.
“Hello?” the woman’s voice said.
“Victoria,” I said desperately. “What were you doing with Edward last night?”
“Who’s that?” She paused. “Diana?”
“Why were you at his house? Why are you even in California?”
Victoria laughed. “As if you didn’t know. But I’m glad you called. I wanted to thank you. I misjudged you, Diana. You are a wonderful, wonderful person. Rupert and I will never forget....”