Page 111 of Prodigal Son

Larissa rolled her eyes. “Your stubbornness contributes to your lonesome state.”

He narrowed his eyes, his patience at an end. “I’m alone because my brother stole my true mate.”

“Cain,” she said his name with whispered censor.

“Why should I lie. She was mine, and Adam has her. End of story.”

“You were a part of that decision.”

“Yes,” he agreed snidely. “And I will spend an eternity outside of their happiness learning to square away any bitter regrets my choices have wrought.”

“You don’t love Annalise that way.”

His molars pressed tight. “Regardless, I’m sentenced to stay close by and live my life without risk or autonomy, so not to chance endangering Anna or jeopardizing Adam’s precious happiness.”

“Cain, no one expects you to put your life on hold.”

“Everyone expects that, Larissa. I’ve not even met my nephew yet, my own namesake. They ask every sacrifice of me and offer nothing in return.”

He could tell by the compassion in her eyes that she had not considered his circumstances from his position alone.

Shaking his head, he paced to the window that faced his brother’s home. “I’d never intentionally hurt Annalise. I can’t. My protectiveness lends itself to Adam’s happiness, because I’ve watched what losing him does to her.” He glared out the window through the rain and bitterness transcended into sorrow. “I see the way Eleazar looks at you and the way Father looks at Mother.” When he turned to face her, his voice strained around the ache building in his throat. “What did I do that was so wrong that God refuses to allow anyone to see me in such a way?”

“Oh, Cain,” she whispered, unable to deny the truth. He didn’t dare turn, certain he’d only find pity in her eyes.

He thought of Destiny and how, in those last hours, she’d been willing to come back to him—how much he wanted to believe that she could.

“They say I’m reckless and self-serving, but I’ve given up everything in order to protect them. And now, dear sister, I just want to be left the hell alone.”

“Cain—”

“Please go, Larissa. At least leave me my dignity and let me face this misery alone.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and silently left him with his thoughts. A tray was delivered to his door, and the whispers followed. His grief was an imposition in their happy world, but he was not a problem they needed to solve.

Their vicarious suffering was nothing compared to the endless ache eating at him, day in and day out. It only felt great because it contrasted so drastically from their typically joyous lives. He had no sympathy to spare.

Later that day he was awoken by another knock at the door.

“Go away,” he grumbled, and then frowned at the distinct chortle of a baby coo.

“Cain, it’s Anna. I’m not leaving until we see you.”

Flinging himself out of bed, he went to the door and ripped it open, glaring at her. Then his gaze dropped to the pudgy little male in her arms and something loosened in his chest.

“I’m sorry it’s taken us this long to visit.”

He looked just like her, but also like him. Not him. Adam. He hadn’t anticipated that the babe would resemble both of them. The realization stirred a sense of misdirected pride then pricked his ego with endless needling envy. “Well, he’s handsome.”

“He looks like his father,” she agreed. “And his uncle.”

“He has your eyes.” He couldn’t stop staring at the boy. Reaching out a finger, he hooked it through the babe’s pudgy fist. “You hurt me, kid.”

“Do you want to hold him?”

“I couldn’t—” Anna put the child into his arms and a warm sensation filled his chest as the slight weight settled in.

She pushed into his room. “I assumed you would have visited.”

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