Disclaimer:  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the author.  All rights reserved.  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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Ryan was working like crazy.  Between filming the Drew Carey Show during the week and Whose Line on the weekends, he was never home.  Not to mention the other improv performances and working to finish the movie he and a friend were writing. 

He was exhausted.  The only time he found himself at home was between the hours of midnight and six in the morning.  That was long past and before his children's bedtimes and often his wife's as well.  On days when he would be later than midnight, he didn't even bother coming home.  More and more, he would just sleep in his trailer at Warner Bros. Studios, or stay at a hotel. 

The strain emotionally and physically was beginning to show and his work was starting to suffer.  It was becoming increasingly hard to remember his lines, and he was so distracted during improv that he often would miss opportunities, that normally, he would have jumped at.

The stress was reaching home too.  His wife and children had come to expect he wouldn't be there, and Pat was quickly becoming a single parent.

As a result, the more he worked, the shorter his temper got.  He was always jumpy and irritable; often blowing up at people for absolutely no reason at all.  His appetite was nil, and he was sometimes so tired he couldn't sleep.

It was a dreary April night when Ryan pulled into his driveway and made his way to the darkened house.

Ryan fumbled with his key, then made his way inside.  Everything was pitch black, mostly because the nightlights were out.  He just closed his eyes and stumbled down the hallway.  After kicking off his shoes, Ryan carefully slid into bed. He had long since given up on changing into nightclothes because it wasted precious sleep time. 

He rolled over to kiss his wife, just as he always did, but she wasn't there.  Confused, he sat up in bed.  Then, he reluctantly stood and went to turn on the light.  The room was empty.  Ryan squinted and walked out into the hallway.

He carefully opened the door to his son's room.  Much to his relief, Sam was sleeping safe and sound.  Ryan exhaled and continued down the hall.  He found his daughter asleep as well.

Ryan carefully shut the door and made his way into the living room.  After banging his knee on the end table, he finally was able to turn on the light.  Rather, try to turn on the light.  As he played with the switch, he heard a voice whisper to him from behind.

"Do you know what today is?"
Ryan turned around.  "Oh…Pat," he sighed in relief.  "I was worried.  What are you doing out here?"

"Do you know what today is?" she repeated.

He felt his way around to the couch and sat down next to her.  "Uh…well….um…Tuesday? No, no, Wednesday.  It's Wednesday."

"It was," she replied.  "Now it's Thursday."

"Okay, it's Thursday.  So…you sit in the living room on Thursdays?" he asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"As of twenty minutes ago…it's our anniversary," she replied blankly. 

"No.  Our anniversary is April 14th.  Today's only the…only the…oh," he sighed.  "Damn."

"Have anything planned?" she asked, knowing he didn't. 

"Uh…yeah," he replied.  "I was gonna…take you out to dinner."

Pat bit her lip and nodded.  "Riiiighhhtttt."

"Okay." Ryan surrendered.  "I forgot."

"Really?" she asked sarcastically.  "I never would have guessed."

"I'm sorry." Ryan's voice inherently got louder.  He was becoming annoyed.  "I've been a little busy lately."

"Shh…you're gonna wake them up," she scolded, motioning to the hallway.  "Listen.  I made some plans.  I'm giving the kids to my parents, and then I'm leaving.  I don't know where I'm going, but I'm leaving."

Ryan scrunched his forehead as she continued.

"Now, either you can come with me, or you can stay here," she replied.  "Either way, I'll be home in a month."

"You're just leaving…" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes."  She responded.  "I've had enough and I need to get away.  You do too."

Ryan nodded in solemn agreement, then stood up.  He held out a hand to his wife.

"Let's go."