Chapter 61

• At first, she presumed her sight was playing tricks on her. The Nick Ryan she was familiar with was not the man on the stage. Instead, a stranger appeared in his place, decked out in full Mets attire. His blond hair peeked out from under a blue and orange cap worn backward. A Mets jersey, jeans, and sneakers completed his outfit. He held an orange leash attached to Old Yeller, a dog that exuded an air of pedigree rather than that of a mongrel. The dog, wearing a Mets bandanna, had an ear that was bent at an odd angle and a tail that didn't wag. However, his eyes lacked the usual sorrowful look she associated with her damaged pet. A cardboard sign that read: COME HOME, was propped up in front of him. She blinked repeatedly, trying to comprehend the reality of the scene unfolding before her.
• Nick held a torn piece of notebook paper, clearing his throat before speaking into the microphone. His voice flowed into her ears as she held her breath. “I’m not a poet. But my wife is. She showed me how to find the extraordinary in the mundane. She educated me about emotions, truth, and second chances. I was oblivious to the fact that someone could keep giving without expecting anything in return. Alexa, you transformed my life, but I was too scared to embrace it. I felt I wasn't worthy. But now, I see the truth.” Overwhelmed, Alexa's eyes welled up with tears. Maggie held her hand tightly. Her husband wanted her back. However, choosing that path felt like a journey into the unknown, reminiscent of a famous poem. She was now more familiar with his darkness and knew she could survive on her own if she turned away from him. The darkness called to her like a long-lost friend. It was her decision to make, and she feared she might not have the strength to give it another try.
• She opened her eyes, hearing the whispers and comments around her. She watched the man she loved, waiting for his next words. “I love you, Alexa. I want you, our baby, and even this silly dog that I’ve grown fond of. I’ve also figured out what I don't want. I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be alone. And I don't want to believe that I don't deserve you. I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” Her lower lip quivered as Maggie squeezed her hand. “Do you still love him?” She struggled to respond. “I'm afraid I can't do it anymore.” Maggie's gaze was intense. “Yes, you can. You can do it again, and again, and again. If you love him enough.”