Christine slept for nearly 19 hours, the longest she'd slept since the night she slept beside Erik. When she awoke the next morning, she saw a beautiful summer dress draped over the chair in the room.
"E-Erik..." she called.
As soon as his name left her lips, he appeared in the doorway.
"What is this?" she asked, looking at the dress.
He went over to the chair and laid a hand on the soft fabric of the gown. "You needed a gown that would not restrain," he said. "Also, some more proper fitting undergarments."
She noticed the new chemise and bloomers next to the gown for the first time. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of red as she thought of Erik picking out underwear for her. She sat up slightly, trying to get a better look at the clothing. She cringed in pain and found she could not sit up on her own. Erik saw her struggling and made his way over to her, gently laying one hand on the small of her back, the other cradling her stomach. He helped her sit up slightly, then went over and draped the gown over his arms and brought it to her. She sat in awe of the simple yet beautiful gown. It was a satin gown in a light lavender color with a little bit of lace peeking out from under the long sleeves. The gown was flowy and had plenty of room for her growing stomach. She smiled.
"Oh Erik, it is beautiful. Thank you so much." She gently trailed her fingers along the smooth fabric he was holding out for her.
"Jacques will be returning today with his wife for supper. His wife, Abigail, is a nurse. Together, the will tend to your needs for the night while I check up on the theatre," Erik said, setting the gown on the bed. "I have drawn you a bath. Here, I will help you up."
He once again put one hand on the small of her back. His other hand grasped Christine's and gently pulled her up. "Jacques said a nice, warm bath should help numb the pain."
Christine nodded and, with Erik's help, slowly made her way to the bathroom. Erik had already placed a white dressing robe beside the bath for her. He held the robe up to her as a dressing curtain so she could undress in somewhat privacy. He struggled to keep his eyes off of her, longing to see her once again in her natural form. He shook thoughts of her from his mind and wrapped her in the robe and helped her into the bath.
"Thank you," he heard her say softly as she slide down into the warm water.
Erik nodded, keeping his eyes away from her. He exited the bathroom and let out a long breath he didn't know he had been holding in. He returned downstairs.
Christine relaxed as soon as her skin touched the warm water. Monsieur Augustin had been right, the warm water did numb the pain. She sat in the bath for nearly an hour, lightly scrubbing her skin with the rose scented soap. When she had finished washing herself and relaxing her previously pained body, she gripped both sides of the bath and tried to stand, only to find that she couldn't. She panicked a little, wanting to do it by herself so badly. She knew Erik would not be happy to have to help her out in this situation. She cringed as she tried to get out again, slipping and hitting her stomach on the side of the tub. She hadn't hit it hard enough to do any damage, but the pain was immense. She cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. Erik quickly made his way to the bathroom, finding Christine with her forehead against the edge of the bath, breathing heavily.
"Christine!" He said, kneeling beside the bath. "What's happened?"
She gripped the tub tighter, trying to fight the pain away. Erik gently touched her arm. Sighing quietly to himself, he brushed the chocolate curls from her face.
"Would you like me to help you?" He asked, stroking her arm.
She hesitated, then nodded. Erik gently slide his hand into the lukewarm water and lifted her up slowly by her armpits. Trying as hard as he could to keep his eyes off of her, he helped her stand. He reached for a towel when he heard her cry quietly. Her arms had moved to try and cover herself, her eyes had slammed shut. Erik wrapped the towel around her shivering body and lay a hand on her shoulder.
"Christine, why all the tears?" he asked, using his other hand to raise her chin up.
With quivering lips, she finally spoke. "I am afraid," she whispered.
Erik's heart sank. Was she afraid of him? Did she think he would hurt her? The last thing he wanted to do was to make her fear him. Christine had opened her eyes a little and frowned.
"Not of you, Erik," she said.
He could tell that she had sensed him tense. If she wasn't afraid of him, then what was she afraid of? He took his mind off it, changing the subject. "Come, let's dress you," he said, guiding her out of the bathroom.
Returning to the bedroom, he stood her beside the unmade bed. He sensed her tense as he picked up the bloomers and chemise.
"Trust me," he said when she looked up at him.
She nodded slowly and stepped into the bloomers. Still gripping the towel tightly around herself, she helped him pull the bloomers up. Erik readied the chemise. He fought back a blush as she loosened her grip on the towel, slowly revealing her bare chest and stomach. She raised her hands above her head and Erik quickly slide the chemise onto her. He managed to only get a glimpse of her. He had noticed that pregnancy had changed her body quite a lot. Not just in bad ways, though. Her skin was creamier, with the exception of her stomach. Her figure a little fuller and her breasts enlarged, to his secret delight. Christine was beautiful. It was nearly impossible to keep his eyes off her, but he had to. Erik did not want to tempt himself in any way. He'd already done enough damage to his poor Christine. He did not want to hurt her anymore. 'Friends. That's what this had to be,' He thought, 'Friends who just happen to have a child together.' God, that sounded awful. If anyone found out the child was his, Christine would be known as a whore. The more Erik thought about it, the more concerned he became. He finally understood why Christine was hiding the pregnancy in the first place. Everyone in France knew that she and the Vicomte had not shared passion in the same bed after their marriage. By now, all of France probably knew that the Vicomte had thrown Christine out. If the people knew she was with child, they would know it wasn't Raoul's. She would be called a whore and wouldn't be able to go anywhere alone anymore. No wonder she had fled to England. No wonder she had forced herself into tight clothing that masked the bump. No wonder she had acted so upset when he had pestered her about the obvious pregnancy...
Suddenly feeling horrible, Erik turned away from Christine. Christine, poor Christine. The hell he had put her through must have been unbearable. He clenched his jaw, balling his hands in fists.
"E-Erik... what's wrong?" she asked behind him, fear filling her delicate voice.
Erik didn't turn to her. For the first time in a long time, he was speechless. He suddenly tensed when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" she asked. Her fingers gently caressed his shoulder as he sighed.
"I've hurt you," he choked out. Erik heard and sad sigh behind him.
"Erik, you haven't hurt me," she said. "I'm sorry I was nervous. I just..." she was cut off by his broken voice.
"No, it's not that. It's all the times I've hurt you. I left you with this child alone, made you feel like a joke when I saw that you were with child, and treated you like scum. It's not fair, Christine. Why must I be such a... monster?"
Her hand tugged on his shoulder, making him turn slightly towards her. "Erik, you are not a monster! It is not your fault! I've hurt you plenty, too. But you've forgiven me, and I've forgiven you. You must accept that.."
He said nothing, still ashamed of himself. Suddenly, his hand was entangled with another. Hers. He looked at her, holding back a small blush, though Christine was not hiding hers.
"Do not be hard on yourself," she said, looking into his eyes. "Please."
Suddenly, the two found themselves leaning closer, their mouths only inches apart. Christine's lips were parted, making it so easy for Erik to take her mouth and claim it as his. Just as he was about to kiss her, he realized he couldn't. He split away from her, pulling his hand away from hers.
"Come, we must finish dressing you. Jacques and Abigail will be here soon," he said, grabbing the dress from the bed.
Christine's lips were still parted, but her eyes were wide open and her chocolate irises were swirling with confusion and slight disappointment. Before she could even process what had just happened, Erik was lifting Christine's arms above her head and pulling the new gown onto her. He helped her smooth the fabric out quickly, needing to get out of the room.
"I will fetch you when the Augustin's arrive," he said, exiting the room in a rush.
