A/N: This is my first Phantom of the Opera fic, so rip me to shreds. I'm thinking this takes place about a year before Love Never Dies.

Ours

"Raoul," Christine said, kissing her husband as he walked into their flat. "How was your day? It's late; I've already put Gustav to bed."

"My dear, there's something I need to ask you."

"Well, what is it?"

"Perhaps we'd best sit."

She led him to the parlor and they sat down on the couch.

"I think," Raoul began as they sat down, "that it is a nugget of good fortune that Gustav is asleep already."

Christine raised her hand to her husband's face. "You're beginning to frighten me, my love."

"And I'm sorry for that, but what I have to say is difficult." He paused. "Gustav. Is he...Christine, is Gustav mine?"

"Well, of course he is. You've raised him, haven't you? We have."

"But, Christine, is he my son?"

Christine was silent for a moment before she said, "Why are you asking me this?"

"Where did Gustav learn to play the piano?"

"He has a natural talent; you know we've never given him formal lessons."

"A talent he inherited from whom?"

"Well, from me, I suppose."

"Christine, you can sing, not play the piano."

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Damn it, Christine, answer me. Though your avoidance of the question makes me fear I already know the answer."

"No."

"No, what?"

"No. You are not Gustav's father."

Raoul stared at her for a moment and then looked away. Finally he collected himself. "Whose?"

"What?"

"With whom do you have a child? Someone at the opera house?"

"I have a child with you."

"You don't."

"Raoul, you may not be his father, but he is your son. And you may hate me, but do not hate our son."

"That's all well and good, but I'd still like to know who my wife had an affair with while we were married."

"It wasn't..."

"It wasn't what?"

"It only happened once, and it wasn't some stranger off the street."

"Then who, Christine? Who?"

"Erik."

There was a pause before Raoul's voice grew softer. "Who is Erik?"

Christine looked down at realized that at some point in their argument they'd stood. "The Phantom. His name is Erik."

After a moment Raoul sank back to the couch. "I should have known."

Christine sat beside him. "I'm sorry."

"You decided to marry him; you only chose me at his insistence. I should have foreseen this; known it was coming."

"Are you going to leave me?"

Raoul shook his head. "One time I can...live with. Besides, your mistake isn't Gustav's fault, and the Phantom is dead. A boy needs a father; I can't leave him with none."

"I love you, Raoul."

"And I love you, Christine. But I can't forgive you; not yet, and I don't think I can trust you."

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't help. It doesn't make it not true." He stood. "I'm sleeping out here tonight. Good night."

"Goodnight, Raoul." As Christine turned to go to their bedroom, a tear slipped down her cheek.

Gustav wasn't the only one who couldn't afford to lose Raoul as well as Erik.