"You came back!" Erik fell to his knees before her the moment she opened the front door. He tore the mask from his face and began frantically covering her hands in kisses.

"You thought I would not?"

He looked up at her with the old dog-like devotion in his eyes. His pallor was exceptional, even for him, and he vibrated with nervous energy. "I thought... I thought you might leave your poor Erik - run away with your friend - but you came home."

Christine knitted her brow in confusion. "Then why did you let me go?"

"To see if you would come back to me, and you have." He squeezed her hands tightly, and resumed covering them in kisses.

"What would you have done if I had not?" Surely, she had not missed the only opportunity he had ever given her to leave? Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to ease a wave of vertigo.

"I would have come after you," he replied, "But I just needed to know."

She gently pulled herself out of his grasp to remove her gloves and hat. Erik rose to his feet and put her hat away while she smoothed her hair.

"Your eyes are red," he observed. "He made you cry." The tone of his voice shifted slightly when he asked, "Was he cruel to you, my dear? Did he reject you?"

"Oh, what are you saying? I only asked him to come home safely, and then I cried because I am silly."

"Are you certain of that?" The edge in his tone becoming more pronounced.

"That I grew silly and sentimental?" She fought to keep her voice sounding chipper. "Quite certain, yes."

He advanced on her now, and she retreated closer to the wall. "You did not ask him to take you away from your husband?"

"Why would I?" She heard the quiver in her voice, and detested it.

"Because he is everything I am not; because you love him."

She wanted to sink into the floor. How could he know what she'd certainly never told him? She'd been so careful to make it seem like her affection for Raoul was sisterly in nature.

"You don't say anything back. You can't even pretend to deny it!" If Erik's hands hadn't been behind his back, she would have been afraid that he would actually hit her this time.

"Don't be absurd! He wouldn't know what to do with me in any capacity." Not after what you've done to me, what I've let you do, she continued internally before adding aloud, "Even if I thought he might, I promised you that I would never leave you, and I won't."

That softened him, and he grasped her face in his hands. "You are a good wife," he said gently.

Before she could stop herself, she laughed.

His hands tightened and her cheeks pressed painfully against her teeth. He would be horrified if there were marks on her face later. "Why are you laughing at me?"

Speaking carefully so as not to bit the insides of her cheeks, she answered, "One moment you are ecstatic I have returned, then you instantly accuse me of attempting infidelity, only to tell me I'm a good wife. You have to admit, it is a little funny." She brought her hands up to rest on his, hoping that would signal him to loosen his grip on her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he moaned.

She guided him to the sofa so they could sit, only he collapsed on the floor in front of her, burying his face in her lap and sobbing. She petted his thin hair and babbled comforting nonsense to him. Once he finally stopped crying, she brushed his wet cheek. He released a shuddering sigh and drew the tips of her index and middle fingers into his mouth. Years ago, she might have pulled away in disgust, now she only resumed stroking his hair with her free hand.

This was what they had: He was terrified of losing her, and she of inflicting pain on him. Perhaps it was better than nothing, but she could not know.

Note: Again, I'm not sure if this is it or not. Hopefully I can concentrate on some of the research I was doing for A Wonderful Stroke of Luck and get back to that. Hopefully, you enjoyed this little aside; if not I understand. It was just something I needed to get out of my system.