ANNA.
With the white box still in front of me, I look up at Jack once more, who’s waiting with raised brows, taking a deep breath, to steady my racing heart I then take the lid off, only to be greeted by neatly wrapped pink tissue paper held closed with a delicate sticker. As I rustle through the paper, anticipation builds within me, and I unveil a stunning pink fabric. My mouth drops open in awe as I lift the exquisite dress from the box.
Once it’s on, the dress will cascade to the floor, featuring a crisscross strap on one shoulder and a daring thigh-high slit that adds an alluring touch. The back has a discreet zipper,
“I give him credit where it’s due; he has good taste,” he says .
I glance over at him, only to find his staring at the dress with furrowed brows, clearly assessing i
