Night had fallen, and his wife had gone to bed. Only with the candle flickering, did he happened to notice a piece of paper on the table. One glance towards his wife and he knew she was sound asleep, but he was curious about the note. Notes were always left around the house, but this one was different, casting an aura of emotion. Ever so quietly he moved towards the table, pausing at every creak of the wooden boards of the floor. Without too much noise, he sat down at the table and read the note, which was a pome written by his love. Instantly, after finishing the pome, he felt an anger which screamed to break out. Looking at his wife, the love of this life, he knew something had to be done. Leaving the note on the table, he walked over to the bed. He knelt down, next to his wife, and felt himself overcome with emotions. Unclenching his fist, he gently stroked his wife's cheek. Reacting to his touch, she opened her eyes, and he felt a pain in his heart. Tears had dried around her eyes, but still left a mark easily seen. Yearning to take all the pain, frustration and hurt away, he prepared himself, not moving for a few moments, while his wife watched in confusion. Opening his eyes, she saw a fire of rage burning. Unless she stopped him, he would be doing something very rash and foolish. Aiming to calm him down, she pleaded him not to take action, but her tears began to fall. Gladly, he would take vengeance on those who would dare hurt his dearest, but her pleads did not fall on deaf ears. Agonizingly, he nodded, promising not to take vengeance, but the fire inside him did not die out. Instead, those fires raged quietly, growing ever so much. Never again would he let anyone hurt her in any way, making a promise to himself.