Ava
Smoothing down the front of my top in the mirror, I turned this way and that to get a better look at myself. I was dressed nicely, but still a little casual—as per Chris’s request. A matching skirt and sweater set, tall heeled boots, the necklace Chris had just given me, and I had put my hair up into one of those updos that looks a bit messy but secretly takes a lot of time to get just right.
Perfect, I thought to myself. I felt pretty; it was a shame that our lunch date had to be dampened by my own inner turmoil. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?
Before I could think too deeply on it, however, there was a knock on the door. “Ava?” Chris’s voice called through the wood. “We have to go. Our reservation is soon.”
Sighing, I grabbed my purse and swung the door open. “How do I look?”
