The Promise - By Danielle Steel Page 0,90

city, to call anyone, or go anywhere. She wasn't really there. It was all like a dream, a two-year-old dream, and she would relive it only one last time.

Chapter 31

“Dr. Gregson?”

“Yes?” He was still distracted when his secretary came into the room. He had just spoken to Marie at the airport. He still had a queasy feeling about the trip, but he had to respect her feelings about something as personal as this. Still, he would feel better when she got back the next day. He looked up and tried to pay attention to his nurse. “Yes?”

“A Mr. Hillyard here to see you. He says you're expecting him. And there are three of his associates with him.”

“Fine. Send him in.” Christ. That was all he needed now. But why not? At least he'd get a look at the boy. He was actually young enough to be his son. What a miserable thought. He wondered if Marie ever thought of that.

The four men came in and shook hands with the doctor, and the meeting got under way. They wanted to enlist his support to make their new medical center a success. They already had fifteen of the more illustrious doctors on their “team,” and there was no doubt that the buildings would be ideally located and magnificently appointed. It was an easy choice to make. Gregson agreed to take new offices there, and was willing to talk to some of his colleagues. But even though his responses were mechanical, he watched Michael with fascination throughout the meeting. So this was Michael Hillyard. He didn't look like a formidable opponent. But he looked young, and handsome, and very sure of himself. And in an unsettling way, Peter began to realize how much like Marie he was. There was a similarity of energy, of determination, and even of humor. The realization made Peter feel shut out, and suddenly, too, he understood. He sat very quietly for a long time, watching Michael and saying nothing at all. He wasn't even listening to the meeting anymore; he was adjusting to the reality he had avoided for so long. It made him wonder, too, exactly why Marie had gone east that morning. Was it really to destroy the last shreds of the past, or to honor them?

For the first time, Peter wondered if he had a right to interfere. Just watching Michael, he felt as though he were seeing another side of Marie, a side he had no knowledge of. This man represented a part of her life that he didn't even understand, a part he had never wanted to know. He had wanted her to be Marie Adamson. She had never been Nancy to him. She had been someone new, someone who had been born in his hands. But now he recognized there was someone else. All the pieces of the puzzle began to fit, and he felt a sense of resignation as well as loss. He had been fighting an unfightable war, and he had been trying to recapture his own past. Marie was indeed someone new, but there were glimpses in her of the woman he had once loved, the woman who had died…. He had cherished those glimpses of Livia as well as the reality of the girl he had brought to life. Maybe he had no right to do that. He had never before had such free rein with a patient, because Marie had had no one to rely on but him. It allowed him to be everything to her … everything except what he wanted to be now. Watching Michael, he realized that his own role in Marie's life had been very like a father's. She didn't realize it yet, but one day she would.

The meeting was over when they stood up to shake hands, and Michael's three associates were already out of the office, waiting for him in the anteroom beyond. Gregson and Michael were exchanging pleasantries, when suddenly everything stopped, and Michael stared fixedly at something over the older man's shoulder. It was the painting she had been doing two years before … it was to have been his wedding present … it had been stolen from her apartment by those nurses after she died. And now it was in this man's office, and it was finished. Mesmerized, Michael walked toward it before Gregson could stop him. But nothing would have stopped him. He stood there, staring, looking for the signature, as though he already knew what he