They have been married for nineteen years, and still she thinks of the ghost.
Raoul knows. He hears the times she whispers that name-Erik-in her sleep, sees the times she stares with an expression that borders on fascination at a pot of red ink.
She sings, every night, at the piano, and he swears her voice is as beautiful as the days she sang for the opera-she laughs when he says this, and the pure sweetness of that laugh only makes him more sure. She sings of Little Lotte and Cinderella, of "ships and shoes and sealing wax," of heaven and-
No. Not angels. Never angels. A certain shadow passes over both their faces when they hear that word.
But once-just once-Raoul catches her. He has taken the children to the sea for the morning, and although Christine is loath to stay behind, she has a dinner party that evening to prepare for...
On their return, they are greeted at the door by the trills of Christine's voice. It is a beautiful song and a terrible one, which sings of phantoms and dreams and which sends a shiver down Raoul's spine.
The children, incorrigible and inexhaustible, even after a day spent playing at the seaside, run off, laughing, to play. At the sound of their voices Christine turns and looks at Raoul with an almost guilty expression on her face.
"You're back," she says, too quickly.
Raoul nods, and kisses her on the cheek. Automatically. She sang about the phantom. What does it mean?
She smiles tentatively. "Dinner's nearly ready."
"Wonderful," he replies. Automatic. The phantom. She sang. Why?
He hangs his hat up on the rack by the door and closes his eyes. Could it be that she made the wrong choice? That she regrets choosing him? That she yearns for her ghost, her phantom, her angel?
Raoul doesn't deserve her. He's always known that. It shouldn't hurt him that she's finally realized as well.
It shouldn't, but it does.
He takes a deep breath and heads back into the parlor. Maybe she will forget. Maybe if he pretends he hasn't noticed-
Christine rushes into him, burrowing her head into his chest. "Raoul," she sobs.
He strokes her hair. "Shh," he whispers. "It's okay."
"He never leaves me," she says, holding tight to Raoul like she's never going to let him go.
"I know," Raoul murmurs. "I know."
"Sometimes-I think-I see him-"
Raoul lets her cry, rocking her back and forth like she does with the children.
Finally, she takes a great, shuddering, breath and looks up at him with a tear-stained smile. "But you won't ever leave either, will you, Raoul?"
"Never," he promises.
She lets out a deep breath that is almost a sigh of relief. After a pause...
"Remember?" he whispers. "That night on the roof?"
She closes her eyes. "I will never forget."
"Now and always," he says. "We promised."
"Now and always," she repeats.
Raoul laces his fingers with hers and knows that she will always be his. How silly of him, to doubt her. His Christine. And together, they will fight any nightmares that dare intrude upon their happy lives.
A/N: Yowch, that deteriorated into some serious fluff at the end there, didn't it? Now, be honest with me. How many of you gave up the second you saw it was pro-Raoul?