The heart wants

The authentic French accent had impressed Melissa once. Even before she realised it, she’d fallen in love——with those slender locks bouncing off  her shoulders and coming to a rest by the hips, manicured finger nails reflecting the soft sunlight, and pruned eyelashes batting against lined, blue eyes.

Mellissa’s young heart yearned. ‘Out of your league,’ her mind piped.

She looked up at her father, who seemed to be searching someone. Mellissa, however, had eyes for none but the speaking French doll.

She sighed. It was too easy to guess her father’s response: “We can’t afford it now, my love.”

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