Danielle Steel - Lightning

It was April when she finally asked him when he was moving out, one morning when Carmen had taken Annabelle to school, and they were both finishing their breakfast and reading the papers.

“Are you in a hurry for me to leave?” he asked, looking a little startled.

“No,” she smiled sadly, “but the real estate agents keep calling with co-ops for you. I just figured you'd have found something by now. There can't be that many co-ops in New York.” They were calling night and day now. And Daphne was nagging him about it. She had been patient for long enough, and she wanted him to herself now. He always felt a little torn between coming home at night, not that he wanted to, but he felt guilty about Annabelle, and as though he should be there in the morning.

“I haven't found anything yet. I'll let you know,” he said coolly. “You're not finished with your treatments yet anyway,” he reminded her. And for a minute, she got the feeling that he was dragging his feet. But she knew he didn't want to leave their daughter.

“I'll be finished in four weeks,” she said with relief in her voice. It had already been five months, the longest five months in her life, but they were almost over. She and Brock could talk of nothing else, and all the things they were going to do when she finally felt better. They were already going to movies, and had been to the opening of a play. She wanted to go to the opera with him, but she hadn't had the energy. They were talking about taking subscription seats for the following season, but that was a big commitment. “What about you?” Alex asked Sam, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing this summer, or haven't you figured that out yet?”

“I … uh … I don't know yet. I might go to Europe for a month or two.” He was as vague as possible, but he knew that Daphne wanted to spend time in the South of France, and Simon had told him about a fabulous yacht to charter. It was all a little racier than their usual summer on Long Island and vacations in Maine, but on the other hand, he certainly could afford it, and it sounded like fun. He felt he owed some special time to Daphne after all her patience during the winter.

“Europe for a month or two?” Alex looked at him in surprise. “Business must be very good.”

“It is. Thanks to Simon.”

“What about Annabelle? Will you be taking her with you?”

“For part of it. I think it will be fun for her.” And Daphne would have her son for a couple of weeks too, although she wasn't very excited about it. But as Alex listened, she suddenly wondered just who his girlfriend was, and how well she would care for her daughter. It was an issue that would have to be resolved before the summer.

“Annabelle doesn't know you're moving out, you know,” Alex reminded him. They had to face that, but it was still too early, and he hadn't found a place yet. “It's going to be hard for her.” It was going to be hard for all of them, and they knew that. You didn't end seventeen years of marriage easily, even after all this preparation.

“She's going to be furious with me,” Sam said unhappily, hoping she would like Daphne and make things a little easier for him. Daphne was so young and fun and beautiful, he reminded himself practically, how could anyone not like her?

“She'll get through it.” They had gotten through a lot of tough things that year. But Annabelle seemed a little less worried about her mother lately.

“You seem to be doing fine,” he commented, watching her, sensing something different and more womanly about her. She had seemed so dead in those early months, and now she seemed to be coming slowly alive again. It made him feel better about leaving her, and worse at the same time. And much to his own surprise, it also made him miss her.

“I'm fine,” she reassured him. But talking to him still made her sad, and angry sometimes. It was difficult for it not to. And it was harder still not to think of the girl he was leaving her for. Alex had seen him with her again, in a restaurant, but he still didn't know it. But it had thrown her to see them.

He was still thinking about Alex when he left for work that day, and remembering how happy they had been, and some of the funny things they'd done together. She had been so wild and zany when he first met her. She was smart, and beautiful, he had always loved her directness and her honesty, her integrity, and her sense of honor. And now she was so much quieter and different. He knew it was all still there, but she felt like a stranger. He couldn't help wondering how much of it was his fault.

“You're in a sober mood today,” Daphne chided him when she saw him in his office a little while later.

“No, just working things out at home. We really have to find an apartment.” He wanted to start his new life, so he could start forget the old one completely. Except for Annabelle of coarse. He knew it was time to introduce them. There wasn't much Alex could say now, even if Annabelle told her and he had sensed for a long time that Alex knew there was another woman, although he had never confessed it, and he had no idea she'd seen them. “Have you seen anything you like this week?” he asked hopefully. But it was exasperating. They had looked at every small coop in New York, and there was always something wrong with them. Most of them needed extensive decorating and reconstruction.

“It's so stupid really,” Daphne complained, “there's always too many bedrooms, or not enough view, or it's too low a floor and too noisy.'” They wanted fireplaces as well, and hopefully a view of the park or the river. They preferred a view of Central Park, and were looking on Fifth Avenue, and he was willing to pay over a million. He could get a mortgage on it, and with the profits from their latest deals, it was not going to be a problem.

Alex had already said she wanted nothing from him, except support for Annabelle. She was being very fair, and she had her law practice. She didn't want money from Sam. What she had wanted from him he didn't have to give her.

“Don't be such a gloomy puss,” Daphne cajoled him, as she locked the door to his office and came to sit on his lap, grinding herself slowly against him. It made him smile sheepishly, he knew he was foolish to have regrets about the past. It was over and gone. It had been good then, but this was better now. And as usual, when he slid his hand under her skirt, he found no barriers to his fingers. She wore no underwear, no pantyhose, and he loved that. Once in a while she wore a garter belt and stockings, and she had a fabulous collection of sexy bras, but underpants were something Daphne had long since dispensed with.

“Do I have any meetings on my calendar this morning, Miss Belrose?” he asked, kissing her, as she unzipped his fly for him and reached into it with nimble fingers.

“I believe not, Mr. Parker,” she said in proper British tones, “oh wait a minute …yes …” she pretended to jog her memory … “I just remembered one … ah, here it is …” She pulled him out of his trousers and put her lips to him, as he fell back in his chair with a groan of pleasure. Their “meeting” didn't last long, but was extremely pleasurable, and when she left his office shortly afterwards, she wore a smile, and her skirt was slightly crooked.

Chapter 18

The needle went into Alex's vein for the last time, and then out again, on an afternoon in May, as Brock sat with her, and she cried with powerful emotions when it was over. She still had six Cytoxan tablets to take, but after that she was free. She had a final chest X ray, a blood count, and a mammogram. She was clean. She had survived six wretched months of chemotherapy, and he had helped her do it.

She said good-bye to Dr. Webber and made an appointment for a follow-up visit in six months, and even sick as she felt, she felt liberated as she left the doctor's office.