“She touched votive candles, potholders, Matchbox cars, and a cookbook. Her fingertips relayed the differences in textures. Smooth. Soft. Bumpy. She could see the sizes and shapes of the items. The colors were missing. Gray permeated her once vibrant world. How she longed to see a red rose, a blue sky, and a green Starbuck’s logo. Had it been only a year since every happy thing in her life had been stolen? The man she loved. The wedding they’d planned. The new promotion she’d gotten. Hmp...h. Difficult to be an interior designer without the ability to see color. Even their dream house, which they’d only moved into the week before the accident, had been taken. Without Henry or her job, she hadn’t been able to afford the mortgage payments. Now, she lived in a tiny apartment trying to make ends meet with disability and Henry’s life insurance money. When she’d come out of the coma, the doctors told her that her cerebral cortex had been damaged.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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