Christine let out a shaky breath as she was cautiously going down the stairs, holding on the wall as if for support. Suddenly, she heard her name. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or her guilty conscience, but it was Erik's voice. Without uttering a single word, she turned midway down the stairs only to climb back up. It didn't matter. Exercise would do her good. Appearing in the doorway, Christine's head was bowed and her eyes were still tearful.
"Do you have something you wish to tell me?" Erik asked coldly, turning to look at her. Her eyes were downcast, and he felt an urge to grab her and force her to look at him. However, he stayed still, not bothering to try and stop his shaking hands from crumpling the letters.
Upon hearing the sound of paper, Christine felt the need to look up. Her heart dropped when she saw what he was holding and how his face was contorted into anything but compassion. She suddenly felt sick. But not the sick where she was going to have to vomit. She felt sick as in...dirty, insane, truly and utterly ashamed of herself. If there was a way out, Christine would have taken it, but unfortunately, the best case scenario was that she try to explain herself and he'd refuse to speak with her for a few days. But that has still never happened, so that was simply wishful thinking. "I have nothing I want to tell you," she answered him in a small voice, biting her lower lip to keep her voice from shaking.
"How long?" he demanded shortly. He could tell she was on the verge of tears but he didn't care. She was only upset he found out. She wasn't going to tell him.
She tried fighting off the urge to tell him everything. She wanted to. But she was afraid he'd never believe it. Oh, God, how did she even get here? "A few months," Christine practically whispered. "But I- I was going to-" Yeah, any excuse she had just wouldn't work.
The letters fell from his hand. "A few months? And it never occurred for you to tell me?"
"I-you..." She had to swallow to keep herself breathing. "Every day. But I knew...you'd get angry." Christine went up to him and touched his arm. "Please, Erik, listen to what I have to say."
He grasped her wrist too tightly. "You knew I'd get angry," he said, his voice dangerously low. "And yet you still wrote him. Why?"
"I stopped! I swear on my life...I-I stopped!" Christine cried out, allowing tears to fall freely now. From the moment he grabbed hold of her, she began struggling. "Erik, let me go!"
"Why, Christine?" he demanded again, forcefully. He ignored her tears, her pleas for release. He couldn't think past his anger enough to care that he was hurting her.
"Let me go! Please, Erik!" she cried out, not sure if she was more terrified than guilty at the moment. Perhaps they balanced each other out. "I stopped! I didn't send any more!"
He let go, but the guilt that came from hurting her was quickly squelched beneath this anger. "Answer me," he snarled at her. "What possessed you to send him the letters?"
After he let go, she let herself fall to the ground. She couldn't look at him. She was never able to took at him when he was angry. At the loudness of his voice, Christine winced and paused for a moment to sob silently. She didn't even feel like she should be crying. "I wanted to talk. S-see how he's doing."
Erik forced his hands still, forced himself to keep from ripping her up off the ground. "Perhaps I should go and kill him - my wife wouldn't have to think about him then, would she?"
Horror filled Christine and her breathing quickened. Just the thought of - this was almost exactly like the last time the three people were put together in a room. Erik had let Raoul free that time. "He's my friend! Of course I...I care about him on some level!" Yeah, she wasn't much helping her cause. "Erik, no," Christine said, her lower lip trembling.
"Does he know where we are?" he demanded. "I would not put it past you to lead him straight to us, to go running back to him. Is that what you intend to do, Christine? To leave me once more - I should have expected no less."
Oh, God, no, is that was he thought? Of course, why else would he think different? She'd done it before. For nearly four years. And she was certainly not that careless as to lead Raoul back to them! "No, no, no, he doesn't know. He doesn't, know," Christine repeated, then looked up at him. "I'm not leaving you, Erik. I'm not..." She couldn't breathe. She didn't even know what she was saying anymore. She just wanted to dig a hole and bury herself there, and then never come out. The guilt was consuming her.
Erik leaned down and pulled her off the ground as gently as possible with his anger. Without a word, he pulled her out of her brightly lit room and down the steps. He stopped at the bottom and turned to her. "How am I ever supposed to believe anything you say again?"
The second he grabbed ahold of her again, she gasped loudly, her heart beating way more times a minutes than it was probably normal. "What are you going to do? Erik, Erik, please...Please," Christine begged. For a second, she had forgotten about the baby, but when he kicked again, she jumped and her hand went to her belly. "Erik, please...the baby..."
His heart stopped. He couldn't breathe. All of his anger fell out of him - he felt as though everything was shattering. "Have you seen him?" he asked softly.
"No," Christine replied almost instantly, shaking her head at him, but keeping her hand protectively over her torso. Nothing was going to happen to the baby. "I haven't seen him since I left him...for you."
He stared at her eyes hopelessly. "How can I believe you?"
There was absolutely no way of proving that she hadn't seen Raoul. But she hadn't. She may have been writing to him, but she never saw him. "What would be the point of the letters if I've seen him?" she asked timidly. "I swear it on my life I have not set eyes on him since I left."
Erik didn't know what to think. As far as he had known, Christine hadn't been in any kind of contact with that boy. She kept it a secret for months. What else was she lying about? The fear was rising like a bile in his throat. "I thought I could trust you," he murmured quietly.
"Erik, Erik, please. I - I'm not a liar. You know me. I tell you everything." It was no use. She'd lost all of Erik's trust. With just a paper and ink, she'd lost everything that was dear to her. Well, almost everything.
He wanted to say something to her - he wanted to fix this. To believe her again. But it was too late - she had ruined it. He couldn't pretend it didn't happen. "Why...why wasn't I enough for you? I tried so hard..."
His words completely pierced her heart. They hurt so badly, she nearly had to sit to to let it catch up with her mind. The poor creature, who'd literally fought blood and bone to have her...he thought he wasn't enough. "Erik, you're more than enough. You...you're perfect. Too perfect for me. You didn't do anything wrong. It's my fault." Christine took her arm back and buried her face in her hands. "It's always my fault." She knew her apology wouldn't fix anything, so there was no point in offering one.
He shook his head, grappling with his thoughts. He couldn't believe she would do this to him - but hadn't he hurt her enough too? Hadn't he lied to her? Hadn't he told her he was an angel? And his lie had lasted for years - yet she still forgave him. And just now, he'd held her too tightly - she had yet to turn that wrong against him. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry for hurting you," he whispered. It occurred to him that he didn't used to be so willing to forgive - she was changing him. He couldn't trust her yet, but he couldn't really stay mad at her either.
She wasn't going to start crying all over again, but when he did the unexpected, she couldn't help it. She felt so safe when he had his arms around her, though his mind wasn't all there anymore. But she didn't hold on to him as if to let him know that she was accepting his embrace. Christine merely just stood here, her face bowing down as she sobbed, not entirely sure for what.
He kissed her hair. Nothing would ever be the same again - but he would not allow that insolent boy to destroy his marriage. She had chosen him, she belonged to him. He wasn't ever letting her go. Not this time.
Of course Christine knew it would catch up to her, everything she'd ever felt guilty about, but mainly the letters to Raoul. It had been stupid and foolish on her part to even dare contact him, but she did. She did was was foolish and now she was going to have to pay for her mistakes. She should have known better. How many times had it crossed her mind to put the pen down and refuse to write back? Dozens of times! Did she? No! Unfortunately, she had no explanation for that. Her mind had a mind of its own. She wanted to see the sun again. Sit at her window seat and stare outside.
Erik held her tightly. He wanted to make all of her pain go away and at the same time, he wanted to keep her safe in his arms forever. But he owed her more than he gave her. He released her just long enough to take her hand. "Come with me, Christine. I want to show you something."
At first, she wanted to shake her head and just crawl back upstairs to her window. But he seemed genuine. His expression softened. Perhaps she didn't realize just how much love he truly had for her. Was she taking advantage of that? Christine lifted her eyes to his, letting out a shaky breath, and slightly squeezed his hand. "Why?" she whispered. She hadn't meant to ask. She was just a little confused is all.
"Because I love you," he said simply. "Now, come on," he told her, and pulled her to the front door. He had set it up sometime when they were being distant, though he wasn't sure if he was going to use it. His instinct told him to keep her guarded and hidden, and he usually did. But she deserved it - and he had to find some way of apologizing for hurting her, because he probably left a bruise on her wrist.
Still? He still loved her? After everything she'd done to hurt him? Not only the letters, but the distance she'd kept from him for so long. He still loved her after all of that? Who was this man? Christine did nothing to stop him from taking her anywhere, she she walked towards the direction he was taking her gently.
Erik felt a sense of fear clutch at his heart as he unlocked the door. He didn't want to go out there, and he really didn't want to bring Christine out. Still, he forced himself to open the door, blinking through the light. The sun was just beginning to fall and the air was warm - not a particular feeling he enjoyed, but he was sure Christine would like it.
The moment Christine felt the warm breeze touch her skin, she smiled. Slightly, but she smiled. It had been weeks since she was outside, and she'd missed it ever so dearly. But when she raised her eyes to look at exactly what he wanted her to see, her jaw dropped ever so slightly. It was beautiful.
He had taken her behind the house when her eyes lit up. There were dozens of roses planted haphazardly in the backyard - not the structured lines of a garden, but rather made to look like they had grown there themselves. There were wildflowers there as well, but they had already been growing and took no action on his part. In the midst of it all was a simple white bench. He knew she liked simple things, flowers and books and sunsets. It wasn't fair that he kept her in all the time, though he hadn't really wished to stop; but he would allow her to come and read and sit in the sun, because it would make her happy.
It was impossible to take everything in at first glance, no matter how hard she tried. Christine had never seen so many different kinds of flowers, or so many butterflies in one place! It was almost like a field had grown in overnight, but it was all Erik's doing. She knew it was. It was so beautiful, with the bench and all, but...She turned her face away. "I can't, Erik. I don't deserve it," she said quietly, staring at the green grass beneath her feet.
The words felt like ice to him. He wrapped her up in his arms gently. "You made one mistake, Christine. I've made dozens. You love me and that is enough to deserve everything I can give you."
He didn't understand, did he? How could he? All that guilt, she'd managed to push in the back of her mind for weeks, and it was working just fine. Up until she was given enough time to think, and that was when the guilt began bubbling up inside of her. Christine was never able to deal with a guilty conscience very well. When she knew she did something wrong, she had to tell whoever she wronged. In this case, she should have told Erik, but she didn't, and that was nearly pure torture. But it hurt more to see Erik angry with her rather than to feel guilty. "I know I should have told you," Christine started, then closed her eyes and shook her head, "but I couldn't."
"Yes, you should have," he agreed, because it was the truth. "But it's over and done now."
"But you don't trust me," she said, sadly, knowing that it was her fault. She should have expected this. God knows what must have been going through Erik's head. All these thoughts about being unfaithful, maybe even about the baby...Christine paused to look up at him. "I swear on my life that the baby is yours, Erik."
Erik hesitated. No, he didn't trust her. And yes, he was terrified that maybe the baby wasn't his - it didn't much surprise him that she saw through that fear. "It'll take time," he conceded.
Her face fell again in disappointment. She had been waiting for such an answer. How could she not? She knew exactly who Erik was, who she'd messed up with. She knew exactly what he'd been through to get to her, and when it couldn't be better, she fails. That was Christine. That's what she did. She couldn't help it. "He still loves me," she dared tell Erik. May as well tell him the whole truth.
"Yes," Erik said rather sullenly. "It would take an awful lot to make a man stop loving you." He frowned. In truth, Christine could have had any man she wanted. He knew that, even if she didn't. "What made you choose me?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Christine had thought about that question many times. Why had she chosen Erik? After her success as the lead in an opera, anyone would have taken Christine to love. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Christine was never one to be prideful. In fact, she had been timid about being the lead. She'd rather be a chorus girl. "If I hadn't taken Carlotta's place in Hannibal, Raoul would never have noticed me. And neither would have anyone else. I was yet to remain the dancing girl in the background. You noticed me even when I was nothing. That means something to me," she admitted.
Erik nodded and kissed her forehead. It was enough for him to be loved for being observant of talented chorus girls. "Now, Christine - are you going to sit with me on this bench in the place I've made for you and let me hold you, or are you more in the mood to go sulk in the dark house?"
She raised her eyebrows at him. He made himself sound as if she was the one who liked the darkness of the house and he enjoyed the light. A light smile grazed her face as she intertwined her fingers with his. "If anything, I'd go sulk in my room, not in the darkness. But...I haven't been out in so long. I'd rather be out here."
He figured he could make her smile, and he was right. Maybe not a big smile, but it was something. He gently pulled her to the bench, sat beside her, and put his arm around her. He would deal with the light if it made her happy.