Sunday dinner felt like emotional warfare.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Because apparently my family could not sit around one table peacefully without somebody saying something passive aggressive every seven minutes.
Mostly Sofia.
Always Sofia.
I stood in front of the mirror inside Adrian’s apartment staring at the soft pink dress Amelia forced into my hands last night
Well.
“Gifted lovingly” was the phrase she used.
But honestly?
That woman absolutely knew what she was doing.
The dress was elegant without trying too hard.
Soft satin fabric.
Long sleeves.
A fitted waist and stopped mid thigh.
Simple.
Classy.
Expensive enough that even breathing near it felt financially irresponsible.
And unfortunately—
it looked incredible on me.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at my re
