She sits down on the couch and puts one leg over the other, leans back and asks: “So what is it, dad?”“Just about this thing, you know. You don�...�t really express your feelings much…” I try to choose my words carefully, but Diana understands immediately.“Don’t worry, dad. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t like it,” she says. “I just want it to be good for you. That’s what I like about it.”“Yeah, okay,” I say. “I just feel like maybe we should talk a bit more.”“Well, sure, if that’s what you want,”. ” I reached forward and grabbed the shirt, which I knew our youngest would never again wear, and pulled it forward. The top button beneath her tie flew off and a loud tear sounded as the right shoulder ripped and dangled down exposing the red bra cup beneath. “And that’s not regulation underwear either is it, Miss?” I backhanded her breast earning a yelp from my wife, “No... It’s not... Mr Brooks... I’m... sorry ...” she whimpered. “Take it off!” I demanded. She looked up at me, a startled. More

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