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stay away
from her. She's got enough on her plate right now."
    He nodded politely to Corrigan and went on down the hall.
    Simon still hadn't moved, or spoken. He was pale and
drawn, half crazy from the doctor's revelation.
    Corrigan got on the other side of him and took his arm,
drawing him along. "We'll get a cup of
coffee somewhere on theway back to your office," he told his older brother.
    Simon allowed himself to be pulled out the door. He
wasn't sure he remembered how to walk. He felt shattered.
    Minutes later, he was sitting in a small cafe with his
brother, drinking strong coffee.
    "She tried to kill herself over
me," Simon said finally. "She missed.
She won't try again. They'll make sure of it."

176
    Beloved
    Diana Palmer
    177

He leaned forward. "Simon, she's been overextending for years, you
know that. No one woman could have done as much as she has without risking her health, if not her sanity. If it hadn't been what you said to her, it would have been
something else...maybe even this showing at the gallery that she was working
night and day to get ready for."
    Simon forced himself to breathe normally. He still
couldn't quite believe it all. He sipped his
coffee and stared into space.
    "Did you know how she felt?"
he asked Corrigan.
    "She didn't tell me, if that's what you mean,"
his brother said. "But it was fairly obvious, the way she talked about
you. I felt sorry for her. We all knew how
much you loved Melia , that you've never let yourself get close to another woman
since the wreck. Tira had to know that there was no hope in that
direction."
    The coffee in Simon's cup sloshed a little as he put it
down. "It seems so clear now," he
remarked absently. "She was always around, even
when there didn't seem a reason for it. She worked on committees for organizations I belonged to, she did charity work for businesses where I was a trustee."
He shook his head. "But I never
noticed."
    "I know."
    He looked up. "John knew,"
he said suddenly.
    Corrigan hesitated. Then he nodded.
    Simon sucked in a harsh breath. "Good God, I broke
up their marriage!"
    "Maybe. I don't know. Tira never talks about John." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "But haven't you ever noticed that she and John's
father are still friends? He doesn't blame her for his son's death. Shouldn't he, if it was all Tira's fault?"
    Simon didn't want to think about it. He was sick to his
stomach. "I pushed her at John," he
recalled.
    "I remember. They seemed to have a
lot in common."
    "They had me in common." Simon laughed bitterly.
"She loved me..." He took a long sip of coffee and burned his mouth. The pain was welcome; it took his mind off his
conscience.
    "She can't ever know that we told you that,"
Corrigan said firmly, looking as formidable as his brother. "She's
entitled to salvage a little of her pride.
The newspapers got hold of the story, Simon. It's in the morning
edition. The headline's really some thing—local
socialite in suicide attempt. She's going to have hell living it down. I don't imagine they'll let her
see a newspaper, but someone will
tell her, just the same." His voice was harsh. "Some people love rubbing salt in
wounds."
    Simon rested his forehead against his one hand. He was so
drained that he could barely function. It had been the worst day of his life; in some ways, worse than the wreck that had
cost him everything.
    For years, Tira's eyes had
warmed at his approach, her mouth had smiled
her welcome. She'd become radiant just because he was near her, and he hadn't known how she felt, with all those blatant signs.
    Now, this morning, she'd looked at him with such hatred that he still felt sick from the violence of it.
Her eyes had flashed fire, her face had burned
with rage. He'd never seen her like that.
    Corrigan searched his brother's worn face. "Don't
take it so hard, Simon. None of this is your
fault. She put too much pressure on herself and now she's paying the
consequences. She'll be all right."
    "She
loved me," he said again,