Ava’s POV
I always imagined my engagement would come with butterflies and violins, maybe a little blush pulling up my cheeks as I looked across the room at a man, I was head over heels for.
Instead, it came with anxiety.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear the emerald gown?” Leah’s voice cut through my nervous haze as she stepped into my room, arms folded and eyebrows arched. “You know green is your power color.”
I adjusted the champagne-gold silk dress that hugged my figure like a second skin. The plunging neckline was tasteful, and the high slit showed off just enough of my toned legs to earn a glare from my mother and a wink from Leah.
“I want to look presentable,” I muttered, smoothing the fabric. “Not like I’m auditioning for The Bachelor.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Ava, please.
