Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera; all elements belong to their respective owners

Christmas Eve 1883, London, England

A lone figure trudged sadly through the icy streets, the echo of his footsteps singing a quiet solo in the starless night. The toll of a clock tower called out signifying that the hour was now past ten.

In silent pondering, the figure found that his aimless wandering led his feet past the rosy windows of bright happy families. He could hear their laughter and their merriment trickling down their doorsteps, their homes overflowing with the love and joy of their occupants.

With each peal of laughter and glance of love exchanged, a gripping pain grew stronger around the man's agonized heart.

A tear slipped from his eye, running cold and sharp down his cheek. It seemed that such happiness would never again warm the dead winter that reigned in his soul. There was no true family for him to return to, no one who truly wished to wait up for him to come home, no one who would throw their arms about his neck to welcome him with a kiss and an honest declaration of "I missed you!"

He knew that he would be greeted by the aura of a living tomb…the tomb of his dead wife.

Oh… her heart still beat and she still took air but her soul lay forever in death with her past lover.

He knew that his wife did not love him, her husband, for her heart could never love another.

The woman spent her days fluttering about like a wraith, caring only for her son….the son of her dead lover. The child was the only thing that brought real life back into her eyes, for otherwise, her eyes were as glazed and empty as a cadaver's.

Try as she might to pretend to be alive, in all but body, she was his dead wife.

Another tear spilled into the snow as he thought of her…..Thought of the injustice of it all. What had he done? Why could she not love him? Everything, everything had always been for her! He had tried so hard to gain her love. He had risked his life for her, shamed himself for her, left his life behind for her…!

He had even gone so far as to willingly surrender that which made him a man, so that she would never again be endangered by another pregnancy!

He gave his all to love her….. And all Raoul received in turn was a dead wife!

Please review. Thanks for reading.

Author's Note: This is based off the ending of Susan Kay's 'Phantom'. Dedicated to all whose sacrifices have been discounted.