Alone, Bridget sits down and takes a breather, but then Gemma walks back in and apologizes for ruining her party. Bridget tries to get Gemma to see the brighter side. "Don't worry. I think you gave everyone something to talk about." She asks Gemma if she's okay, as if they're really friends. Gemma says she's not. "Not really. I'm a disaster." Bridget: "Gemma, if Henry makes you this unhappy, why don't you just leave him?" Gemma says she can't. She still loves him even though she knows she shouldn't. She asks if she's pathetic. Bridget tells her no, she's just human and that she'll get through this. Gemma: "I know, with help from friends like you." Poor Gemma. Don't you already just love to hate Siobhan who've we've hardly seen?
Back at Park Ave., Andrew praises his wife for pulling off the night with aplomb. When she demurs, he says, "You know, it's been a long time since I've felt you were on my side, but tonight, it was like I had the old Siobhan back. Don't go away again." He puts his hand on her knee and they look in each other's eyes.
Cut to the bedroom. Bridget is on the opposite side of the bed from where she woke up the other morning, which seems curious to me. I don't know. Scott sleeps on the left (our left, if we're lying face up) and I sleep on the right, always, at least at home. When we've traveled sometimes we've mixed it up if one of us wanted to read or needed the bedside table for something, but at home, it never varies. That's the way it is for most people, isn't it? You pick a side? I don't know why that caught my eye. Anyhow, once Bridget knows Andrew is asleep, she sneaks out of bedroom and gets dressed. She texts Malcolm that she's on her way and creeps out of the dressing room and back past a seemingly still slumbering Andrew.