Nine Lives - Danielle Steel Page 0,90

her son’s. Paul Gilmore was a dangerous man to love. A heartbreaker of the worst kind. She couldn’t afford him in her life.

She took long walks for the first week she was home. The text messages continued, but she kept erasing them, and after another week, they stopped. He realized that she wasn’t coming back. She was a remarkable woman, and he didn’t deserve her. He knew that now. And if she wanted her freedom, he owed her at least that. She had brought him back from the dead, and he had broken her heart in exchange. He understood what she wanted and needed, and he couldn’t give it to her. Worse, he didn’t want to. He wanted racing more than he wanted her, and she knew it. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t let go of what the races meant to him. They meant he was a winner, that death couldn’t conquer him, that he was afraid of nothing, and dying meant nothing to him. He was the bravest and the toughest and the strongest, the most fearless man alive. He had been so frightened as a little boy, when his father left them penniless, and later when his mother died. He had fought fear from then on, and won every time, or close enough.

But in the end, Maggie was stronger than he was. He was terrified without her now.

* * *

—

After she’d been back a week, she contacted the artists she’d been meeting with, launched the website, and contacted everyone on her extensive mailing list. The site featured a slideshow of the artists’ works that she was offering. Within days, she had inquiries and responses, and four clients eager to buy some of the work she was representing. She made her first sale two weeks after she’d launched, and felt stronger by then. She’d spoken to Aden and told him that she had left Paul. He was sad, but he said he understood, and he hoped they’d see him again one day.

“If he’s still alive,” she said, and sounded angrier than she wanted to. She wasn’t angry, she was sad too, and disappointed. He had lied while almost dying was fresh in his mind. But as soon as he recovered, he was back in the game.

Aden said he’d come home for spring break in March, since she wouldn’t be in London now. She had no plans to return to Europe, and no reason to go there. She hated to admit it, but she would miss the boat. Who wouldn’t? It was a little taste of heaven on earth, and she’d been happy with Paul. She loved him, but she knew she wouldn’t one day. She had forgotten him before, and would again.

She’d been back for three weeks when she let Helen know she was home, and told her simply that she had left Paul, and it was better this way.

“Should I ask what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. It never should have happened at all. He was a fantasy from my youth.”

“I’m sorry, Maggie.”

“Me too.” She told Helen about the online gallery then. She had finally done it, and was proud of herself.

She picked up the threads of her life, the ordinary pleasures she had enjoyed when she lived there. She had stopped living a life there ever since Brad died and the fateful trip to Europe where she met Paul again. It had been all about him ever since. Now it had to be about her again, or maybe for the first time in her life. She was going to have to do this alone, and figure out where she wanted to live. Chicago or Lake Forest or maybe New York. She could do whatever she wanted. It was frightening, but exciting too. Missing Paul was like a dull ache, a phantom limb, and she would have to get used to that. They had been together for a year and a half, and it was over now. She knew she’d survive, no matter how painful at first.

She was looking at slides of new work for her online gallery when Aden called her one week later on a Saturday. She was happy to hear him, but he sounded agitated.

“Turn your TV on, Mom.” His voice was unusually sharp. “Now!”

“Why?”

“Just turn it on. The sports channel, or a news channel. I think it’ll be all over the place.”

“Is he dead? I don’t want to see it.” She suddenly knew why he had called.

“Just turn it on,”