Catherine unwrapped the bandage from her ankle and carefully shifted her weight onto the leg. She expected pain, but the ankle felt fine. She flexed and pointed it and then slipped on a pair of strappy white heels. She teetered backward and examined herself in the mirror.
The white gown was quite simple, but it was stunning. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed Catherine's graceful shoulders and pale décolletage without being scandalous. The dress itself clung tight to her breasts and waist before flaring out over her legs. The skirt was narrow, though, and when she moved, the fabric revealed the outline of her ass. She spun slowly in the mirror, amazed at how elegant she felt.
Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and she wore powder, mascara, and a slash of red lipstick. She looked dramatic—like a character in a play. Or a bride. Her breath caught in her chest. Had Sean intentionally chosen the dress for that reason?