Epilogue
ENYA
Five Years Later
Once upon a time, when I first set eyes on Cain Jameson, I felt like a sinner.
But, the more I’ve come to know him over the years, the more I’ve realized that God does, indeed, work in mysterious ways.
He did not set us on one another’s path for reasons of temptation or depravity.
He sent Cain to me in my time of need, because in God’s all-knowing wisdom, he did what was right for both of us.
I needed a hero, and Cain needed love. A broken childhood, with a screwed-up past of unholy acts committed in the name of virtue, tore him to shreds.
Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t the easiest thing to do, and we both learned that the hard way.
Through the window, I watch Cain Jameson slowly walk back to the house with a fishing net slung over one shoulder and a burlap sack over the other.
He sees me through the window, and those gray eyes still melt my heart.
He’s shirtless, in the warm afternoon sun, and I still can’t get enough of that body.
I rush out of the log cabin that Cain built with his own two hands, after renouncing his calling within the Catholic Church. Carrying two glasses of lemonade, I make my way toward him.
“Dinner is served,” Cain says, hoisting the spoils of his adventure into the air.
“If you’re lucky, I might just let you have me for dessert.” I wink, tapping his nose with my finger. There’s an instant twitch in his pants at my words.
“Good God, woman. You’ll drive me insane with talk like that,” Cain says, looking over his shoulder, before whispering. “I’m already going to struggle until tonight as it is. You know how I get when I get back from hunting and fishing.”
“Why do you think I’m doing it?” I reply, pressing the ice-cold glass of lemonade against Cain’s cheek. “You become an animal after a full day of teasing.”
“I’ll ravage you right now, if you’re not careful,” Cain murmurs under his breath.
“I wish you could,” I say.
“You know what?” Cain asks, a serious look in his eye.
“What?” I reply, not breaking my smirk.
“This is why I love you,” he leans in and pecks me on the lips. “You’ve got a way of keeping me on my toes.”
“And you know why I love you?” I reply, running my hand over the ever-growing bulge in Cain’s swimming trunks. “Because of just how easy a lay you are.”
We both laugh.
“Momma, Momma, look what I caught,” Jesse cries, running out from behind the tree line, a net hanging from his shoulder, just like Daddy. He’s running towards us, flipping the net around to show a little guppy inside.
“I caught this one all by myself,” our little boy says, a smug smile on his face.
“He did,” Cain adds. “Cast his line and caught a fish. He’s really starting to take after his old man.” Cain pushes the burlap sack into his netted hand, and lifts Jesse off the ground.
“That’s my little man,” I say, handing Jesse a glass of lemonade. He slurps down half of it in a single go. “Growing up big and strong.”
Yes, sometimes the right path isn’t the easiest one to walk. But I’d never give this life up for any other.
THE END.