Prodigal Son by Danielle Steel Page A

divorce,” she said in barely more than a whisper. Her eyes apologized to him, but her mouth was set in a firm line.
    “Are you serious?” was the only thing he could think of to say to her. “Why?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, as tears filled her eyes. She was still standing and looking at him from across the room. “This just doesn’t feel right anymore. It’s all over, your job, our life in New York, us. We can’t go back. I don’t want to live there anymore, you don’t want to live here. I think too much has happened. We’ve grown apart.” Peter was silent for a moment as he sat down in a chair. His head was reeling, and he felt sick. He had just been trying to adjust to the idea of living in Los Angeles with her, and now she wanted out. His next question crossed his lips before it even went through his mind.
    “Is there someone else?” He didn’t even want to know, but he had asked. It was the only explanation he could think of for her asking him for a divorce. And he still wanted her, and the life they had shared for fifteen years.
    “No,” she said cautiously, but she hesitated, and he heard it in hervoice. “But I’d like to be free to lead my own life here. I think we both need to move on.”
    “Just like that? Why? Because I lost all our money? When the market settles down again, I can make it all back. I made it before.”
    “It’s not about the money,” she said unconvincingly. “We don’t want the same things. You hate my life out here. You said it yourself.”
    “I don’t want to live here forever, but I could do it for a year or two. And maybe I could get a job out here, a real one, not working for your father. There are investment firms out here too. Shit, we have two kids. We love each other. You don’t just dump that in five minutes, Alana.” But she had, and he could see it. She was already a million miles away. He had heard it in her voice when he had called her, but he thought things might be better when they were together again. He could see that he’d been wrong. And then he thought of something that made a chill run down his spine. “Do the boys know?” Alana looked embarrassed and shook her head. “Ryan looks unhappy. I thought maybe it was about school.”
    “I talked to my dad about it, maybe he overheard something, but I don’t think so.”
    “I think he knows, or he suspects it,” Peter said, looking upset.
    “Well, they’ll have to know eventually, so it might as well be now. I went to see a lawyer last week. It’s pretty simple if we do it on friendly terms.” She was expecting a lot of him, and for an instant he felt one of his old rages boiling up in him, but he resisted it immediately, and never lost control. Those days were gone. He wasn’t a frightened, angry kid anymore. He was a man. Whose wife wanted a divorce. It had happened to a million others before him, many millions, but he had never thought it would happen to him. Their lifehad been so perfect and so sure, but nothing was anymore. Their marriage was over, and he felt as though his life was too.
    “At least the financial side will be simple,” he said cynically. “There’s almost nothing left. Are you planning to live with your father, or do you want your own place?” He hoped she didn’t, it would leave very little for him.
    “I want to stay here,” she reassured him, “but I still need something, and money for the boys.” She had thought it all out and discussed it with her lawyer. Peter could tell it was a fait accompli. He’d been fired. Again. The same sense of failure he’d had before nearly drowned him as he listened to her and tried not to react.
    “Of course,” Peter said coldly, and stared at her from across the room. “Are you willing to discuss this, or try counseling? We could give it another shot.” Other than losing most of their money in the financial crisis, he had done nothing wrong. He had been a model husband until then, but winding up penniless was