PROLOGUE

"And that's your mommy and Aunt Brenda in Paris."

"Mommy went to Pear-is?"

"Yep, your mommy went to Paris, sweetie."

Turning around from the small scene in front of me, I moved my line of vision towards Dylan; signaling for him, with my eyes, to follow me into the next room.

"We'll be right back, Kel." was the last thing I heard from him before I left the living room; venturing towards the kitchen to await his arrival.

As soon as he stepped foot inside the small foyer, the questions began to start, "You okay, man? Your looking kind of pale."

Shrugging my shoulders, I adverted my eyes towards the kitchen counter, fingering the dish rag that Donna had insisted on us buying two days after we got married, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't feel like being in there relieving the past. You know, there's just so much you can take."

"I know what you mean."

Realizing that out of everyone I knew, Dylan was one of the only ones who did know exactly what I meant, seeing as how he sort of went through the same thing a few years back caused me to offer him one of my few rare smiles before asking, "Does it ever get any easier?"

"Not really." He replied, without any hesitation, "But I've found that the best thing for you to do is to try not to focus on the pain, and if you find yourself doing so, try to remember how much Donna would've wanted you not to. It always works for me when I'm down about Toni."

Nodding my head, I try to digest this information but immediately stop when I hear the sounds of small feet running through out the house.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Turning around, my small frown quickly turns into a bright smile as I see my three year old daughter, Kirsten, running towards me with a look of happiness on her face.

"What's up, munchkin?" I ask, scooping my, own personal female, mini-me up into my arms.

"Ant Kelly says I can spend the night at her house, but I got to get your permission. So, can I have it, peas."

Feeling a slight flutter in my chest, seeing as how this was the first time since Kirsten was born that she'd ever asked to spend the night away from home, I absentmindedly moved my eyes towards my stepsister; noticing, for the first time, the small hopeful expression on her face as well.

"Well, I was sort of hoping you'd want to spend the rest of your birthday with me, but if you really want to stay at Aunt Kelly's and leave me here all by my lonesome, then fine, have it your way." I said, half teasing; slightly hoping that with my small guilt trip, Kirsten or Kelly would change their minds and Kirsten would forget the whole subject.

But unfortunately, that didn't happen.

"You can come too, Daddy. It'll be like a lumber party."

Chuckling at my daughter's use of words, I shake my head; telling her silently that that wouldn't be necessary. "That's okay, sweetie, but thanks for the offer."

"Tell you what.." Kelly chimed in, moving her gaze from Kirsten to me and then back again, "We'll have you home by lunch tomorrow so you can spend half the day with your uncle Dylan and I, and the rest of the day with your Daddy. How's that sound?"

Nodding my approval, I look towards Kirsten asking her if she's okay with the deal as well. "What do you think, should we accept the arrangement?"

"Yeah!" Kirsten exclaimed, with just as much enthusiasm as before.

"Well, all righty then." I said, chuckling at my daughter's excitement, before looking towards Kelly and Dylan, nodding once again. "I guess that means she's going."

Stepping out of the hot shower, I had prepared for myself as soon as Kirsten left, I made a move towards the guest room that I'd been sleeping in for the past three years now. But just as I was about to step foot inside the room an invisible force pushed me further down the hall towards the master bedroom; the one room which I hadn't been able to bring myself to enter since the death of my wife three years ago to this day.

"It's just a room, David, there's no reason to be afraid of it." I mumble to myself; instantly knowing that those would be the words Donna would use to comfort me if she was here right now.

Which she's not. A small voice in the back of my head says as I turn the knob to the door; afterwards the voice continuing to echo the words even louder as I open the wood frame, finding the space within just as Donna and I had left it before we'd ran to the hospital that cold summer night not so long ago.

"It even smells like her." I absentmindedly note as I make my way further into the room, taking in every single piece of furniture or article of clothing that's laid out in front of me. "I wonder if she ever even wore those."

Adverting my eyes from the floor to the bed, where we'd spent so many special and private moments in, my mind brings me back to a less sexual occasion that happened in this room; the occasion in which, after we had made love for the millionth time, Donna had confessed to me that we were expecting our first child. A child that, little did we both know, would bring a new beginning to my life and a disastrous end to hers.

"But it was all worth it, right?" I can't help but ask no in particular as I spot the framed photo of Donna's first ultra sound on her side of the bed; the side which I slowly find myself creeping towards without even knowing it.

Not bothering to take a seat on the bed, I pick up the two photos that grace Donna's dresser stand. The first one being of the ultra sound and the second one being of Donna and me cuddling together outside--just two days before Kirsten was brought into the world and just two days before my wife was taken out of it.

As if I'm in a trance, I slowly bring my index finger to the top of Donna's head, tracing the entire outline of her shape before bringing my hand back to the top of the frame and starting all over again. God, I miss you so much.

Feeling the beginning of an emotional outburst about to take place, I gently sit down on the bed, which was once an ours, and not just a mine, and squeeze my eyes shut; hoping that once again that will help take some of the pain away, but secretly knowing that all it will do is build it up once again for another day.

I got to get out of here. I think to myself, as I open my eyes, and notice that the unshed tears are causing my vision to become blurry. This is not healthy.

And it wasn't.

Making a move to leave the room, I stand up slowly and as I release the death grip that I have on the photos, they travel towards the ground, dropping to the hard floor; causing the glass and the little restraint I have on my emotions to shatter.

Leaving me only with the last two previous thoughts to survive on. "I got to get out of here...this is not healthy."