Christine stroked the oars gently, trying not to make a sound as the boat slid through the stagnant lake seven stories below the opera house. She was nervous for two main reasons: she didn't want to know what Raoul's reaction to her rejection would be, and she wasn't sure how Erik would react when she acquiesced to his pleas.
Thinking about Raoul made her sigh. She had loved him once, but he couldn't be for her. She realized that now. He was too…too unlike Christine. She felt a need for someone she could learn to love and care for, not someone that was granted it. She knew that now. And she didn't even have the courage to tell him in person! She had sent a herald to tell Raoul of her decision, a perfunctory task, she thought. He would die if I didn't tell him and just went off with Erik, she thought to herself sadly.
The clang of the boat on the metal grate jarred Christine from her reverie. But, ever the pragmatic girl, she pulled the grate to the side so she could enter Erik's lair. She saw his back at his grand organ, his shoulders shaking, which augmented his evident misery. Had she really hurt him that much?
He turned around, hearing her footsteps, and stared blankly at her, as if he thought she was a dream. So she spoke softly. "Erik…I came back…"
His gaze intensified as he replied brokenly, "Christine…" It was soft and longing. He thought she was saying goodbye.
Christine was momentarily distracted by the tedious opera being performed upstairs. Erik's lair has always been prone to echoes. I suppose I should get used to it. So she determined to say her feelings to him. "No, Erik. I…I want to stay here…with you."
He was starting to believe her. She saw a flicker of hope in his pale hazel eyes. He'll always love me, no matter what I do to break his poor, fragile heart, Christine realized humbly and gratefully. "Christine…" he whispered again. "Why did you come back to me? The young vicomte is your lover," he said scornfully. But the words were forced. A shadow of hope remained.
Christine was confused and hesitant. So she resorted to circumlocution. "Pardon me?"
He stood up from the organ and walked towards her, stopping at about three feet away. "Why did you come back?" Doubt wormed its way into his mind. "You did come to…stay, correct?" His accusing eyes narrowed.
I have to say it. I know I must. It is this, confessing my true feelings for him, or leaving him. The latter is unthinkable. "I came back because…because…Raoul…well…he doesn't suit me. I could never be happy with him…like…I could be…with you…"
He believed her, and the look in his loving eyes showed her that he granted her clemency again. He said her name, a little louder this time, full of love and happiness. "Christine…I love you."