He struck the match and held it to the kindling underneath the oak logs he had cut last summer.
The fire blazed up, filling the room with a cozy warmth that he badly needed.
They had left that morning after a terrible fight-their first. Both of them had said things they didn’t really mean-things that hurt, that put their whole relationship in danger.
He dreaded her walking in the door as her car pulled up the driveway. What would she say? What would she do.
She walked in, quietly wiping a tear and smelled the smoky aroma of the fire. Quickly, as she walked into the house, she reached into her purse, grabbed the letter she had written at work and wadded it into a tight ball. As she walked into the living room, she turned and tossed it into the fireplace.
“What was that?”, he said. “Oh, nothing.” she whispered as she covered his lips with a passionate kiss.