The wedding was turning out perfect so far, the groom thought. Everyone who had been invited was attending and the decorating through the week had gone very well with very few minor issues that were quickly resolved. The planning was flawless and the execution even more so. The cake stood as high as he did where it sat on the table, the cake topper a traditional bride and groom, after much debate.

The groom's mind drifted back to the last few conversations he had with his soon to be wife. All had ended in arguments, yelling and shouting, mostly on his end, about her stubbornness, periodic selfishness, and annoyingness. For the most part, she took it without complaint. All she did was softly explain her side and listen as he told her she was too stubborn in her ways and approaching annoyance in her energy and attitude. Despite what seemed to be massive flaws, he loved her, as he had for many years.

The two had met as children, friends because their parents were so as well. As they matured, they stayed close friends until high school. As one became a sports star and popular, the other became more musical, artistic, known mostly for intelligence and over all invisible. It was as though now they were from different worlds. Their conversations were forced, and their parents could not understand what had occurred to cause the change. Near the end of their senior year, however, their families were together one day, and she had brought one of her paintings to work on, assuming he would be too busy with his friends and would not wish to spend time with her. He, however, had decided to stay in that weekend. As she was painting, he decided to try talking to her to see if maybe their friendship was still there after all this time. After a while of getting almost complete silence, he was surprised when she teasingly painted his arm. She then actually spoke to him, and they caught up, becoming fast friends once again. Soon after, they both headed to separate higher schools, one for construction, drafting, and design, the other for music and creative writing. One of the weekends they both visited home, their relationship sparked with a kiss when they were preparing to depart. A year later, the inevitable proposal came. Those they had gone to school with believed they were an unlikely pair, never remembering having seen them together. And now was time for the wedding.

The groom did have a doubt in his mind though. The fight that had occurred the night before was... different. She yelled back at him, and he began to realize that maybe he had been the selfish one when putting down her optimistic outlook on life and artistic expression.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his best man telling him they were needed in the main room of the sanctuary for the wedding and he realized that the fight didn't matter if she hadn't left him.

Soon after, the bride was walking down the aisle with the brightest smile in the world on her face. She was wearing a long, sleeveless white dress and golden flats. Her blue eyes were full of a happiness that spread throughout the sanctuary like the flames of a massive fire, but in an instant, it was gone because that's just what the place went up in.

The air was filled with yelling as people ran for exits. No one knew where the fire had come from or why it had consumed the building so quickly and completely. It was unnatural for it to have done so, regardless of its source. The pews and hymnals were all aflame with the bright orange destruction and the windows glowed red in the groom's terrified eyes. The bride was being tugged at the arm by her father who was rushing to get her out when she saw pieces of the ceiling fall on the man she loved, the man who had not yet left the altar. She freed herself from her father's grip and ran up to the altar. The mass of debris, now on fire as well, had not landed on the groom, but only hit and damaged his leg. Together, as one, bound under the unity of marriage or not, they began to make their escape from the burning ruins of what was to be a perfect day gone horribly wrong.

They were halfway between the altar and the door and more of the ceiling fell in, this time landing on the bride. Rescue workers had finally arrived and began to pull the groom to safety, ignoring his cries and protests as his love lay in the burning church. Some cleared the rubble off of the woman and she was sent to the hospital with little hopes of her survival. As soon as the paramedics released him, the groom went to be with her.

But by that time... It was too late...

Despite the attempts of most of the hospital's emergency staff, her crushed ribs and burns were too great. The selfless act of the bride-to-be, running deeper into the church to save the one she loved, had been her defeat, and the doctors saw no way to save her, no way she would pull through.

The groom insisted though, no matter the price, that they continue their efforts. He refused to let her die, not knowing if he could stand the thought of going on in life without his best friend. The thought of coming home and her not being there watching Disney as she loved to do, or listening to the music she loved and painting. He didn't want to come home every day to an empty house, to the house they had so often talked about filling with their future family that would no longer be possible. He didn't want that feeling that something was missing like he had through high school when they had stopped talking. He didn't want to feel wrong for the rest of his life.

Three weeks went by, and those three weeks turned into three months. There was still no explanation for the fire's potency. The fourth month after the disaster though, the hospital called the would-be groom.

A miracle had occurred. Overnight, his fiancée had awoken, albeit briefly, and asked for him. The doctors, ever watchful, also noticed that her lung that had previously been punctured had fully healed. How it had done so in such a short time baffled them, but the man knew his prayers for his love had been heard. His prayers had been answered and she would live. Love could truly do anything. When she woke a second time, it was for a longer period of time, but it was obvious she was weak. Her fiancé was instantly by her side, her hand in his, and he remained there until the doctors requested he leave so they could tend to her ribs and burns without working around him.

A few months later, she was well enough to return home as long as she remained as still as possible to allow her ribs to heal. The couple was excited to be home together once again; thrilled to be back where they could create a future in their minds once again as they awaited her full recovery.

One morning, he was cooking breakfast for the both of them, and because he had extra energy for some unknown reason, he put extra effort into making it perfect, like her, he thought. He went upstairs, ready to serve breakfast to the love of his life. When he entered the room, he noticed she was still sleeping, which was odd, because she was sure he had woken her up before going down to the kitchen. In the distance, he heard sirens that were steadily growing closer. He set down the food he had prepared and moved to check on the woman he loved so much, now convinced something was seriously wrong.

It was confirmed when the sirens grew so loud it was almost unbearable and there was rapid knocking at the door. He then noticed blood at the corner of her mouth and began to break down emotionally after yelling to the paramedics that they were upstairs.

It took a while for the doctors to figure out exactly what had happened to her, but when they did and told her anxiously awaiting fiancé, he blamed himself. She had tried to stand up on her own and the strain had been too much and broke one of her already weakened ribs, which punctured her lung once again.

A while later, the doctors seemed hopeful that she would make a full recovery once again, just maybe slower.

And in an instant... she was gone.

They lost her pulse and she was gone.

The irony in it all was in her wishes after death: cremation. The indirect cause of her death would be the way her body would be put to rest. From the day of the cremation on, every time he looked to where they sat on his dresser, he felt the pain of her loss once again. Every day he had to live in a future without her reminded him how they had planned their perfect family not too long ago. Every day he went on without her, the love of his life, he felt the haunting pain of his...

Burning heart.

Cora Theresa