Epilogue
Two Years Later
Maurelle
I relaxed onto the stool at the bar, something I did every week on Friday. It had become a habit since moving to Cuba two years ago. My life as Margaux was great. Cocktails, sand, a palatial mansion by the sea and the nightlife was something to be grateful for.
It was missing something though, a person to be with.
I never imagined wanting or needing someone by my side because frankly I didn’t think I would ever get here.
I was sure I’d be dead by now, but because of Kane, I was free and living the dream.
I’d secretly been hoping he would find his way down to me, but after two years of coming to this bar to wait for him, I knew that dream was exactly that – a dream.
Two years was a long time to be alone, especially since I couldn’t be with Camille. She was living her life, and she was happy from the last time I’d heard from Kane, just after I’d moved here.
That was all I could ever want.
Now, it was time to move toward spending it with someone, so I came here, looking for someone to fall in love with.
Wow, that sounded corny, but it is who I am. I wanted the dream life with someone to love and spend my days on the beach, watching the waves crash onto each other. The life every woman was worthy of if only they had loving parents who didn’t sell them to the highest bidder.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
I looked up at the newcomer at the bar, my eyes catching his, as I smiled at him. He looked different. The years hadn’t been kind, or maybe it was because of me. He looked older, and yet, he looked relaxed for the first time ever.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” he asked me, that cute little smirk on his face making me feel like a giddy teenager.
“It sure is,” I replied, sipping at my martini. “You’ll find that a lot down here. Are you visiting or looking for your new home?”
“I’ve just retired as a homicide detective,” he said. My heart did little flips, knowing that he was here for me. “My name’s Kane.”
“Margaux,” I said, holding my hand out and shaking his. He raised my hand up, placing a kiss on the back of my palm.
“It’s a pleasure, Margaux,” he said with a smile. “Would you like to go for a walk on the beach? I hear it's a to-die-for view around sunset.”
“I would love that,” I replied, pushing off the stool, taking his hand and heading out the door and down onto the beach. The sand pushed against my feet as we stepped into our next life.
Where no one knew who we were.
I was no longer the widow.
I was simply a woman with the chance at what everyone else had.
I was free.