Why was I dressed up for a man I wanted nothing to do with?
That was the question I asked myself as I threw on the delicate, lace dress I made for myself a year ago. It was green—a deep, rich kind of green that made my eyes look brighter. The fabric clung to my curves in all the right places and I couldn't help but admire myself for a moment. It felt wrong to care about myself this much, to care about how I smelt. I had spent way too much time getting ready for tonight, like my life depended on it. It wasn't for the party, it wasn't for the guest, it was for him.
Kurt.
God, I didn't even know what was happening with me. Why was I like this over a man that I wouldn't see again after the wedding? We were like fire and ice, like heaven and hell—we were different. I touched the red lipstick on my lip and tried to smile, but there was nothing to smile about. My dress, my attitude, the way I felt—it was all so I could impress him.
