Cora-James POV.
Pa once told me when I was fourteen. He said, "You can be the prettiest shade of green, my love, and it wouldn't matter if their favorite color is blue."
I think I understand now. What Pa was trying to tell me. I think I understand it now.
I mean, you spend your life doing everything within your power to get the man you love to look in your direction.
To look in your direction just one fucking time.
To just see you.
And even though all the evidence shows the contrary, you cling to that hope. You stay on the shelf waiting. Gathering dust. Patiently.
And while you wait, life passes you by. While you wait... you are suddenly eighteen years old. No prospect. No suitors. No proper first kiss except the one you stole on a riverbank while he went on and fucking on about an imaginary lover named Muffins.
Because even with amnesia and all the fucking advantages you have, you are still not the color blue.
And you might never be. Now, you might actually die for it.
