A tear dripped down Mr. Peter Alvy's long and crooked nose and on to the wrinkled piece of paper.

Dear Peter,

It read.

I am sorry that I haven't spoken to you in a while, but my life has been crazy lately.

Mr. Alvy remembered everything. He remembered how she smelled. Like strawberries and cream...the way her face looked when she drove away. They were in New York, and he had proposed to her. He loved her. But she didn't love him. Not like that.

I know this is possibly the worst thing to send you, but I have nothing else.

The wrinkled paper said.
He remembered that proposal again. It was raining, and she shook her head. Before he could register her reaction, she had called a taxi and she drove away. She made the mistake of looking back. She was grimacing. Tears came down her face, because she knew that she was breaking Mr. Alvy's heart that day in New York. But she didn't stop.

But at least I invited you, right? Look, Peter. Or Mr. Alvy, or whatever you go by now, I wanted to say sorry. I know you'd thought that I abandoned you, but I was scared. And, I loved you more like a brother, or a cousin, but I just couldn't see us walking down the isle together. It just felt wrong. But me and John...I can see it. I want this Peter. I didn't want you. Not like that. But I want you to come. I'm getting married! How exciting is that? I miss you greatly, and I hope you come see me. Even if you don't go to the wedding.

Mr. Alvy's tears were flowing abundantly.
He remembered seeing this in the mail for the first time and reading it, and crying. He remembered it happening a year ago.

Yours always,
Emily Rose Savon
P.S. I am pregnant. The baby's due in three months. That's another reason I want you to come. You could be a godfather!

Mr. Alvy didn't go to the wedding nine months ago. Instead, he wrote Emily a letter back.

Dear Em,
That's great and all, but I can't come. I'm extremely busy, and I think that you missed a chance to be at a wedding with me. Our could-have-been wedding. I'm happy to hear about you and John, but I couldn't bear to see you walk down the isle with another man. I still love you, and I doubt I will ever stop. But you have broken my heart, and I doubt it will ever mend. You are a witch, my dear Emily, a bittersweet little creature. You tore my heart out, and you keep it still. Take good care of it. Don't forget me.
Yours always,
Peter Alvy

She received that letter and despaired for three days. She kept the letter from her fiancé, and told him that she wished her baby's name to be Peter Alvy Savon. Her husband agreed, and when the baby was born, that was his name.
Despite her little sadness, Emily and John had a beautiful and expensive wedding. For their honeymoon, they left the newborn baby at his grandmothers', and they flew to an exotic place and had a very good time. On the flight back though, their pilot was drunk and they experienced a terrible crash. John died in the crash, but Emily survived.
Emily came back to her home with a broken leg, and no husband, so she went to live with her mother and her baby.
Her mother got very sick shortly after, and died in the hospital.
Emily felt that she had nothing left. She cried for many days, and in her sorrow, she killed herself. She sent a letter to Mr. Alvy exactly a week before she did. It read:

Peter,
I'm killing myself. Don't try to stop me, because I will be dead before you get to me. Just take my baby. His name is Peter Alvy Savon. I thought that you'd like that. I didn't know if you already knew this, but John and my mother have died. I don't wan't Peter to have a ruined mother like me. He'll like you more, anyways. I love you, but I've gone to be with John. I'm sorry for hurting you and taking your heart, but you can't have it back. I want to keep at least that much of my best friend with me. I will have dropped Peter off at my friend Jill's house. her address is 304 Oak Street, Tucson, Arizona. Bye, Peter.
Yours always,
Emily Rose Savon

Mr. Alvy had cried even harder after he read that letter. Now, he was rereading all these articles over again, and the past played out before him. Baby Peter started to cry in his crib behind him.
Mr. Alvy walked over to the crib. "What is it, love?" He said as the baby sniffed and played with his fingers.
Those big, brown eyes stared up at him. Those were Emily's eyes.
The baby started to babble. "Mamamamamamama," it said.
"I know," replied Mr. Alvy with fresh tears. "I miss her too."