Fiona
“You look hot,” Isla says, circling me with a wide grin. I look down at the tight green dress and swallow the lump in my throat as the color reminds me of Ethan. Isla picked the dress for me from her line of party dresses, telling me that it would be perfect for my first night out as a newly single woman.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, tugging at the short garment. It’s much shorter than my usual dresses by close to three or four inches, the hem riding up each time I move.
“No way. You’re not backing out now,” Isla says, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Tonight is going to be fun and you’re not going to think about Jack or Ethan. You will go, drink, dance, and have a good time because you deserve it.”
With a shake of my shoulders, she tries to force the idea into me, and I want to bel
