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47: What's more important
“How do I look?” I ask Caroline, rising from before the dressing mirror and turning to have her inspect me. I have on a grey short-sleeved shirt and black trousers and two black shoulder straps.
Caroline came in to keep me company about five minutes ago since she was already set and just waiting for the time of our departure.
“You look great,” she gushes, covering her mouth up with her hands. “Now I’m rethinking the outfit I received.” She wearily reveals.
“Don’t do that, your gown looks amazing on you,” I reveal in honesty, eyeing her red lacy gown that hugs all her curves in the right places. She looks exquisite in her gown and the black three inches heel she has on and I don’t understand where her scepticism is coming from.
She pouts, blinking a few times, and I know she’s having a hard time believing it.
“Well, I don’t know what the mirror you stared
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