Two years old and Evan looks exactly like his father.
Not similar, identical. Dark hair that sticks up no matter what I do. Deep blue eyes that study everything. A strong jaw is already forming. The same serious expression when he concentrates on something.
Standing in my apartment hanging balloons, all I can think about is how my son is a walking reminder of Caleb Vaughn.
"You need to stop overthinking this," Eleanor says while taping streamers to the wall.
"I'm not overthinking anything."
"You've been staring at nothing for ten minutes. What's wrong?"
"Everyone is going to comment on how much Evan looks like Caleb. Every single person at this party."
Eleanor stops decorating and turns to face me. "So what if they do? Let them comment. Why does that bother you so much?"
"Because i
