“And you’re going to keep having everything. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it, because you do. You’re talented at what you love. But that’s never going to be me, and I just remembered that.” She retreats, but I softly take her hand, tracing over the lines on her palm. “What do you love?” She shakes her head. “Fake boyfriends don’t get to know that.” “So there is something.” “Photography,”
