I looked at him blandly. He looked a lot like me at his age, almost the age I was when I met his mother. He sat and looked at me.“Why are you lookin... at me like that?” He asked defensively.“I was thinking about how you look so much like me when I was your age, and yet how totally different you are.”“I can’t be anything like you,” he said even more defensively.“You’re mostly right,” I said to him, “We have little in common now. But that wasn’t all that true when I met your mother. I had only. So I moped on the bed. And I was surprised when Ryan walked through the door, holding a bouquet of pink roses, my favorites. He was dressed in a tuxedo, a smile on his face as he started theatrically, "And now my dear, shall we... Dawn?"He cut off when he realized I wasn't in the mood. And he quickly crossed over to me, kneeling and reaching for my hands. "Are you okay?"I didn't answer him. I just furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at his attire and pointed. "What's with the penguin suit?"He. More

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