This is a work of fiction, and is based upon characters in Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012
K. E. Graham

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or other, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Erik sighed and touched Christine's belly fondly. It had been many months since the night after his attack that his beautiful love came back to him and let him love her. Now her belly was six months swollen with their first child.

Her chocolate hair fell across his chest and over his shoulder as she leaned against him. "What are you thinking, mon amour?" she asked.

"Our child, mon ange." he said, smiling into her hair. "What should we name her...or maybe him?"

His wife pursed her lips for a second before smiling down at her belly. "For a girl...Marguerite?"

Erik smiled wider, remembering that the first song that he taught her was the Jewel aria. "Of course. It would be a wonderful name for a little girl born to us."

"And...a son?"

Erik cocked his head. "Probably after your father, darling."

"You want to name our son Gustave?" As Erik nodded, Christine shook her head. "What about your father?"

Erik squeezed his eyes shut against the pain he expected, but realized that it didn't hurt. "His name was Charles, dear. I...I was supposed to be named after him, but when my mother saw my face she no longer cared and had me named after the priest who blessed me."

Christine's smile fell. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bring up something that hurt you. We can name our child anything you wish."

"Christine, telling you of my mother and the way she treated me doesn't hurt anymore. I would love for our son to be named after his grandfather."

Christine smiled. "So, for Marguerite, what would her middle name be?"

"Augmenté," he said without giving it a second thought.

"And for Charles?"

"Gustave." A smile graced the lips of both mother and father. A son with the names of both of the parents or a daughter named after their favorite show and their symbolic flower...perfection.

Christine felt a kick in her womb and smiled.