Prologue

As the curtains closed on the cast of Spectacular! Spectacular! the lovers heard the shouts of the Duke over the cries from the crowd. They knew if they did not run at that very moment, Christian would be killed. A few of Zidler's girls hurriedly brought Satine a few things from her dressing room and Toulouse helped Christian into his coat. They quickly said their goodbyes and slipped out the back door of the Moulin Rouge, hand-in-hand, into the dark.

They made their way to the train station, where Christian bought two tickets, and they got off at the first little town they came to, found a church, and promised to love each other until their dying days. The husband and wife decided to stay in the town where they had wed. They liked their life there: Christian wrote and taught at a local schoolhouse and Satine taught voice lessons to children in the area. Their nights were spent dancing, singing, and kissing. They couldn't have been happier: it was the life Christian had always dreamed of and a life that Satine never knew she wanted until she had it.

One day when Satine was at the market, she heard a few ladies gossiping about a Duke that would be in town the next week. They talked about how he was looking for somewhere to settle down after living in Paris. Satine knew in her gut is wasn't just any duke, it was the Duke. Their quiet life was about to be uprooted.

A year later, Satine waited on the front steps of their small cottage in Sussex, England for Christian to arrive home. As she placed her hands on her belly, she couldn't wait to tell Christian he was going to be a father. She couldn't imagine their lives becoming any more perfect, but she was wrong. Annabelle was born on an early April morning: she had her mother's big blue eyes and curls but her father's black hair and dimples. She was the most beautiful thing Christian or Satine had ever seen, and she was all theirs.

England, 1907

Satine's eyes opened as the sun streamed into her bedroom on a warm, March morning. She sighed at the idea of knowing exactly what her day would look like. She would get up and make breakfast, Christian would leave for work, Satine would bathe and dress Annabelle, she would teach a voice lesson in her small studio while Annabelle napped, her little girl would play while Satine fixed supper, Christian would arrive home, they would eat, go to bed, and do it all again the next day.

Satine loved her life, but she sometimes wished that there were more to it than taking care of a four-year-old all day, every day. A part of her missed the excitement of the Moulin Rouge: she never knew what would happen each night when she was "The Sparkling Diamond." Men came from all over Europe to hear her sing or just to place a single kiss on her hand. Of course, she would never trade that for her little family, but she missed being noticed.

Christian groaned from his side of the bed as the sun hit his face, pulling Satine from her thoughts. He turned over to face his wife and pulled her close to him, eliciting a smile from her. "Good morning, my love," he said, sleep still weighing his voice down.

"Good morning," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Christian?"

"Hmm?" He gently rubbed her back.

"Do you ever miss our lives in Paris? I don't mean the secretive part, but don't you miss the life, the lights, the music of it all?"

"Not really, darling. I've nothing to miss; everything I ever wanted is under this roof." Satine hid her disappointment at his answer; he had unknowingly made her feel worse about her feelings. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," she lied. "I was just curious."

Before Christian could respond, the pair heard little feat running on the floor, coming down the hall. Annabelle burst through their bedroom door and hopped onto their bed. Satine smiled at how much the little girl was like her father: she was so full of life and loved to smile.

Christian sat up and opened his arms, which Annabelle quickly jumped into. He kissed her head and said, "Good morning, my little love. How did you sleep?"

"Good, Daddy. How did you sleep?"

"Terrible, darling. Your mother snores ever so loud." Annabelle and Satine laughed as Christian fell back and snored dramatically.

Satine sat there quietly watching her family. She admired how good Christian was with Annabelle. He could play with her for hours and never once get tired or lose patience. He loved on her constantly and had never once said no to her when she wanted to sleep in her parents' bed. Annabelle loved her father the same as he loved her. He was always the first one she wanted in the morning and who she always ran to when she cried. Christian seemed as if he were made for fatherhood. He was so loving, gentle, and patient. Sometimes Satine envied how easily taking care of a child came to him but didn't dare share that with her husband.

Christian and Annabelle were still playing when Satine got up to fix breakfast. As she stood over the wood-burning stove, fixing Christian's eggs the way he liked them, she decided that she had to talk to him about how she was feeling. He had always been able to comfort her better than anyone else. She would tell him that night over supper.

That evening, Satine sat on the edge of Annabelle's bed and sang to her. "Yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen," she sang softly as her little girl fell asleep. When her eyes were closed, Satine placed a kiss on her head and made her way into the parlor. A few minutes later, Christian came through the front door.

Satine went to him and placed a kiss on his lips, "How was your day?"

He smiled at her, "It was good. Yours?"

Satine sighed and said, "The same as always."

Christian didn't even notice her melancholy tone as he took off his coat and scarf. "Where's Annabelle?"

"I fed her an early supper and put her to bed."

Christian gave her a look of confusion and asked, "Why's that?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

Satine had been so nervous to talk to Christian that she hadn't even noticed the mood he was in. He was always so tired when he came home from work, which sometimes put him in a foul mood. The dark spots under his eyes indicated that this had been one of his more tiring days. "Couldn't we have talked after her normal bedtime?"

Satine raised an eyebrow at his response. "Yes, I suppose, but I don't see what me putting her to bed an hour early harms."

"Well, Satine, when I come home from work, I'd like to see my daughter for at least a few minutes since I've been gone all day."

Satine's tone became harsher, "Oh, I'm sorry Christian, are you tired? Did you spend all day chasing a four-year-old around? Or scrambling to clean this place up because a student was coming over? Does your back hurt from bending over to pick up our daughter all day, every day?"

As tears began to stream down Satine's face, Christian asked, "Darling, what do you mean?"

"I'm not happy, Christian!" Satine shouted. As she crumpled onto the floor, Christian's face wore a look of shock. "I do the same thing every day, and I'm tired. I'm so tired." Her voice began to break. "Sometimes I wish I still worked at the Moulin Rouge; at least someone would notice me there."

Christian's gruff mood melted away when he saw his wife crying on the floor; he lowered himself next to her and took her in his arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed. He knew there were only three words he needed to say to her; the only three words he had ever needed to say to her. "Come what may," he whispered as she wept.

His words comforted Satine and she raised her head from his shoulder. As Christian gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, she finished the rest of their vows to each other, "I will love you, until my dying day." Satine spent the rest of the evening pouring her heart out to Christian; that's all she really needed: someone to listen to her. Someone to wipe her tears, kiss her forehead, hold her, and tell her everything was going to be alright. Christian was that person for her on that Spring night, like always: he was there for her.

The next morning, Satine awoke to the sun fully risen in the sky and an empty opposite side of the bed. It was Saturday, so the couple had the day off from work, but Satine had never slept in this late. She rose to find Christian and Annabelle and saw the clock in the hall read ten o'clock. She stuck her head in Annabelle's room, but it was empty as well were the washroom and parlor. Finally, she found Christian in the kitchen making coffee.

He smiled widely when he saw his wife: standing there in her robe, looking confused. "Good morning, love," he said warmly and placed a mug in Satine's hand and a kiss on her lips. "Did you sleep well?"

As Satine's maternal instincts kicked in, she ignored her husband's question and asked, "Where is Annabelle? Why did you let me sleep so late? And what are you doing in my kitchen?"

Christian smiled and pulled Satine into his arms, placing a long kiss on her lips. "Relax, darling. I've taken care of everything. Annabelle is spending the weekend with Mrs. Sherryton, and I thought you could use the rest." Mrs. Sherryton was a widow that lived down the street who loved spending time with Annabelle and was always willing to watch her.

"Why is she with Mrs. Sherryton?"

"Because you need a break from taking care of her," he placed a kiss on her shoulder.

Satine smiled and kissed Christian's nose, "Well darling, that's very sweet of you, but if you wanted to give me a break, you would leave too."

"That's where you're wrong sweetheart: you're the one that's leaving."

"I'm leaving?"

"Yes, your train to Brighton leaves in an hour. I've got everything you need packed in your bag. A towel, your swim-suit, some money, and a few sandwiches." Satine looked at her husband with wide eyes. Brighton was just a thirty-minute train ride away, and it was Satine's favorite place to go on holiday; she loved the beach. Christian noticed how confused his wife looked. "I figured you could use some time alone. Take as long as you need."

Satine wrapped her arms around Christian's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. She placed her forehead against his and whispered, "I love you, my penniless sitar player."

That night, Satine sighed as she stood outside her front door. It had been the perfect day: she sat on the beach for hours, doing nothing but breathing and relaxing. It was just what she needed. She couldn't wait to tell Christian about her day.

When she opened the front door, she gasped at what she saw; she couldn't believe it. The parlor was decorated exactly like her room at the Moulin Rouge: with everything decorated with red and gold. Red curtains hung about the room and hearts cut from paper and painted gold hung from the ceiling. There were red roses in vases all around the room, and the red dress she wore the night she met Christian was draped over the sofa (it was one of the few things she had from that part of her life). Christian came into the room wearing a tuxedo much like the one he wore on the night his life changed forever: when he saw his precious Satine for the first time.

He smiled at her widely as he went to her, took her hand, and kissed it gently. He sang softly, "How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."

"Christian," Satine said through her shock. "What is all this?"

"I missed that sweet smile of yours, Satine." He moved in close and tucked a stray lock of red hair behind her ear. "And I was up all last night trying to think of a way to bring it back. So, I figured I'd take you back to the elephant, where we fell in love. This is where I promised myself I'd spend the rest of my days making you happy." He shyly lowered his head. "I don't know, I guess I wanted to remind you of that promise. All I want is for you to be happy."

Satine gently raised Christian's chin so that his eyes met hers and whispered, "I haven't forgotten, and I never will. Come what may, right?"

"Until the end of time," Christian said before gently placing a kiss on her lips.

Satine slipped into the red dress, and they spent the rest of the night dancing, singing, and realizing just how much they loved each other, just as they did that night at the Moulin Rouge all those years ago. Only now, their love was stronger than they ever could have imagined.