She wasn't like her sister.
She had always wanted to love and be loved in returned. That desire had her pulling her own fantasies out of the mouths of men willing to say whatever and do whatever had to be done to get with her.
Her chocolate brown skin was an aphrodisiac, her big bright smile a lure, her body a magical playground. Her sharp mind was rarely on the list of sought after attributes; her huge romantic heart was scratched off of it entirely. She learned that the hard way after being married young and giving birth to a baby girl who bore the resemblance of her father. All Zoe seemingly had from her, her own mother who pushed her big head out into the world, was her dense bush of hair. After Ross gave Zoe his eyes, his skin tone, and his smile, he gave a lot of other children the same thing ... with other mothers. She and her heart were crushed and decided maybe it was time to let those fantasies go. But truthfully, though she stayed away from men, her heart never gave up. Never stopped believing, or hoping. It never stopped working on her behalf. As sure as it beat inside her chest day in and day out, it loved and wanted to be loved.
Deep down in her soul, she knew love could not―would not―be denied.
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