The whole catastrophe started (as most catastrophes seem to these days) with the words, uttered so innocently from the mouth of Jack, "I think we all need to take a break". Bloody Jack Harkness.
Perhaps this wasn't a catastrophe; perhaps a married mother could press her unofficial team member against the wall of the ladies loos, ravish her and not feel like her whole fragile world had just collapsed. Considering she should feel terrible about now, she was having a remarkably good time. Her head felt light – actually everything felt soft and weightless like she would float away if not for the weight of Esther's hands on her and the heavy pool of hot liquid honey in her stomach.
In fact, that such a disaster felt so delicious possibly hinted that the suppressed part of Gwen's mind (the part that thoroughly resented being Rhys little wife and Anwen's little mother, the same part which caused her heart to swell at the sight of Jack, as hell bent on saving the world as she remembered) had once again stamped it's authority over her mind. The girl who had slept with Owen, been amused by Ianto's endless statistics, longed to corner Tosh somewhere secluded, and wished with all her might to be Jack Harkness' girl forever – she was back.
Who gave a damn about a broken hearted Rhys? He was miles away; it was the end of the world; Esther tasted as sweet as she looked; he would never find out, no matter how long they lived.