He lit the match, tossing it softly into the fireplace. He hadn't doused this room-the one that would have been their bedroom. It somehow seemed too sacred-too filled with memories that had never been made.

"Was today what you wanted?" His was soft as he looked at her. She stood in the corner of the room, her dress now hanging in the closet, a royal blue, silk robe now wrapped around her slight frame. The moonlight filtered in through the curtains, casting the perfect, romantic glow.

"What I wanted?" She smiled as she walked over towards him. "Today was everything I ever dreamed of." Her hand was warm as she brushed his face, "How could it not be? It was you."

"I just mean...I know it was probably not the way you would have liked. My family.."

"Shhhh...". Her hand gently covered his mouth, though the weight of her eyes on his would have probably stunned him into silence. "You were there and I was there..nothing else mattered."

He could feel the warmth of the flames as the crackled in front of him. These were small and safely confined. It was strange how beautiful it was-how fire could capture your attention, warm your body, soothe your spirit, and then burn you to the ground. It was, he thought, a lot like love.

Billy listened, still no sound of the fire spreading. That was good. He'd deliberately spread the gasoline out and hadn't lit a doused room. It wasn't an explosion he was after. He didn't want the huge flames, the shattering windows...No. That would attract attention. That would bring rescue. He'd told her months ago, there was only one person that could save him and she wasn't looking to save anyone tonight. Tonight wasn't about getting over it. It wasn't even about getting through it. Tonight was about ending it. Tonight he was going to have the house with her-even if it was only in his mind.

"I got your message." Billy stood in the foyer, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd screamed at his secretary when he'd read the note on his desk. He'd apologized of course but he was still upset. "You always get me if my wife calls," he'd demanded, "I don't care who I'm meeting with." He'd gripped the note in his hand, trying desperately not to imagine the worst case scenario. "How long ago did she call? Did she sound upset?" Finally he'd just relented and left, needing to see for himself that she was ok.

"Billy-I didn't mean for you to come home now," Phyllis said quietly. "All I said was to come home as soon as you could tonight."

"So you're ok?" Relief flooded his body as he looked at her.

"Yeah." She let out a little laugh. "I'm fine. I'm sorry if I worried you."

He stepped towards her, kissing her forehead gently. "You never have to be sorry. Besides, coming home early to you is nowhere near the worst thing that could have happened." He stepped back, his eyes narrowing a bit as he surveyed her attire. "Umm..."

He gently pulled at the apron she was wearing. "You know I love you, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Save it. I didn't make it. I'm just warming it," she grinned.

"Yeah, well...do you uh..remember the brown and serve dinner rolls last month?"

"That's not fair. I was distracted and if I remember correctly we both share the blame for that." The smile on her face was something he didn't ever think he'd grow tired of.

"Besides," she continued, "If I remember correctly, you and Johnny said they served as excellent hockey pucks."

"They certainly did," he laughed as he followed her to the kitchen. "So..is it after to say we've got no rolls tonight?"

Phyllis felt her heart race a little. Yeah, no rolls tonight...menu tonight is a little different."

"Do tell," he smiled.

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering. "Why don't you take a look?"

"Alright," eh laughed, beginning to lift the covers from the dishes. A fresh salad sat on the edge of the counter with baby spinach and baby corn. Baby carrots were glazed and sitting in a porcelain dish beside a tray of baby back ribs. "Ribs?" He smiled. "This is different. I don't think I've ever seen you eat ribs."

"Hmmm.." Phyllis muttered, her eyes now darting towards the table.

Billy looked at her, his smile growing. "What are you up to?" He grinned. He walked over to the table, his feet freezing in place as he reached the dining area. His hands shook as he gingerly lifted the plate. The tears that already filled his eyes made the letters blur, but the message was clear.

Phyllis walked up slowly behind him. "There was supposed to be food on the place," she explained, the tears already falling down her face, "so you would see the words as you ate, but you were early."

He turned to ok at her, the plate still in his hand. "You're...We're...We're gonna have a baby?"

She nodded, laughing through the tears as she saw the smile on his face and felt his arms wrap tight around her.

He could smell the smoke now. This was the way it should be. This was the way he wanted it. He needed the slow burn, the smolder. He wanted to slowly drift away, to let the memories of what they could have had, of what they could have been take him away to a place he wasn't alone-to a place he was with her...forever.

If he wanted to get out, he could get out now. There was still time, but if he left, he left the memories too, all the hopes and dreams. He didn't want to leave. This was their house. This was their life. He'd never even been able to show her. She'd never even seen their room. She'd never step foot on the porch where their children would play.

It was getting harder to breath now, though he wasn't sure if it was the fire or the overwhelming pain. Either way, it didn't matter. Soon the pain, just like the house, just like this future, just like this dream-would be done.