I beam in particular at the thought of Daphne, who envisioned me in this dress tonight. Daphne, my dear friend who knows the intricacies of my story, and my personality, so completely that she…made this dress.
And instantly, I know that she made it. And that she made it for me. Because it fits like a damn glove, even if it is a little bit long.
Eagerly, I move for the door, pulling it open and smirking when I find Daphne standing about ten feet away, waiting for me, the straps of a pair of insanely high stiletto shoes draped over her fingers, held out towards me. “I cut the hem for six-inch heels,” she says with a smirk. “Think you can handle it?”
I squeal with excitement as I scurry over to her, throwing myself into her arms as she laughs and hugs me back, as Markie says “whoa!” and Ju
