My Beloved Christine
A/N: It's been too long since I updated this thing! Sorry for the long wait, my dear readers. Here's the update. Keep in mind that I had to toughen Christine up a bit for the sake of this story and where its headed, so bear with me for a bit. I love all of you guys that have been reviewing, following, and adding it to your favorites, keep it up, your the sole reason I stay up and update when I really want to sleep and put it off for another day! With that said, read on and enjoy!
Monica woke with a sigh, her back arching as she stretched on the large bed she found herself in. A smile settled on her lips when she relaxed and turned her head towards the exhausted composer by her side.
She watched as the Phantom's chest rose up and down slowly, his body completely relaxed as he slept. The fact that he always kept a distance from her whenever they shared his bed made her shake her head in amusement.
Her eyes drifted up to his face, her lips tugging upwards in a small smile when she noticed the calm expression on his features. She rarely got to see him without a frown or a scowl, masking whatever he was truly feeling or thinking.
She reached for the hand that he had subconciously outstretched towards her in his sleep and took in into one of her own. She traced over the lines on his palm slowly, trying to remember what Esmeralda had taught her about them. Upon remembering the gypsy, her blood ran cold.
Reality slapped her right in the face, reminding her that she couldnt stay hidden with the Phantom forever. She would have to go back and explain her actions and decisions to the woman she owed her life to.
Monica drew her hand back quickly, fear running through her veins as she shot out of the bed as if it were on fire. She was a fool, she was risking his life and those of whomever worked at the opera house by staying there and defying Esmeralda.
She berated herself for not realizing it sooner as she rushed out of the room quietly and left a note for the Phantom on his organ, lying to him about her real destination. After reading it over several times and assuring herself that she would return, she chanced seeing her angel one last time before she left.
A shaky breath escaped through her lips as she reached for the doorknob before deciding against it. She couldnt be selfish now, not when it came to him, she wouldnt risk his safety for her own indulgement. The longer she stayed the longer Esmeralda had to plan against him due to her abandoning her former home.
Monica turned quickly and walked hurriedly down the tunnel where she had first arrived, knowing that her horse would be waiting for her on the other side.
She tried to make little to no noise, knowing that the Phantom had an acute sense of hearing even when he slept. It was a wonder how she had managed to leave the lair without having her anklet give her away.
By the time she reached her horse she was weary and cold. In her rush she had forgotten her jacket and gloves back at the opera house.
"Hey, Pilate," she whispered, greeting her horse while running a hand up and down its neck gently. The horse neighed quietly at her while bobbing its head. It had been a while she had ridden him and despite everything in her body telling her to turn around and return to the Phantom she mouted the stallion and left with a swift snap to his reigns.
She had to go through with this, no matter what.
When she neared the carnival she slowed Pilate down to a slow trot and made her way through the tents that had been set up around the main tarp. Several performers greeted her with gleeful looks and happy remarks. Monica smiled back despite the fact that the gesture never really made it up to her eyes.
Her lips dropped and her brow furrowed when she was finally out of sight and reached Esmeralda's travel car.
She dismounted her horse and stumbled forward for a few seconds, trying to get her legs accustomed to walking once more. Her hands were numb by the time she managed to raise one of them and knock.
"Oh dear! Come in, child!" Esmeralda exclaimed, seeing Monica standing outside. The gypsy frowned when she took note of how the other woman's lips had turned blue and her body shivered violently.
Dante poked his head over the gypsy's shoulder to see who the other had referred to with such care and panicked when he saw Monica. He rushed to her side and pulled her into the car.
Monica barely registered the change of temperature, she was too busy tryign to wrap her arms around herself for some sort of warmth.
"She's got hypothermia, go get some blankets," the gypsy ordered, rushing over to warm the small space up as much as she possibly could. Monica watched as Dante practically ran out of the car and returned seconds later with a mass of blankets from his own car.
He set them down on the large bed up against the corner near the fireplace in the large caravan and gently led her over to them. Monica followed without protest, ashamed that she had decided to travel without any layer of warmth in the winter.
She sighed in content when Dante sat her down and pulled her towards his chest while wrapping her up in several layers of warmth. His skin felt warm against hers and she welcomed it without thinking.
"What were you thinking," he whispered to her, concern written all over his features as he stroked her hair. Monica frowned when her body slowly started to warm after a few minutes and she remembered why she had gone back in the first place.
She opened her lips to explain only to be stopped by Esmeralda who motioned for her to be quiet with a flick of her wrist.
Monica glanced up at the gypsy in confusion, realizing that she had been far too calm for her own liking since she had shown up. It almost seemed like they had been expecting her.
"I know why you're here," Esmeralda informed her, making Monica tense. Dante held her tighter, his protective hold going unoticed by the woman in his arms as he and the gypsy exchanged knowing glances.
"What?" Monica mumbled, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. Esmeralda took a seat in front of her and sighed, preparing herself for the speech that she had been rehearsing for over a week.
"You came back to tell me that you'd stay with Erik, am I correct? That nothing I could do or say would change your mind?" The gypsy stated, smiling inwardly when she saw the shock written on Monica's face.
Dante frowned when he realized that she had come to them with the sole purpose of saying goodbye. He knew that what the gypsy had been planning, however, would change her mind for good and make her stay.
He would go through with it, he would endure seeing her suffer briefly if it meant keeping her by his side and away from the Phantom.
"You're free to go," Esmeralda informed her, gesturing towards the door with her hand, "we'll make sure you are properly dressed and you can return to him."
Monica stared at the gypsy as if she had just grown two heads.
"There is a slight problem with this, however," Esmeralda informed her, breathing in sharply, "Dante will take you back and you can see for yourself, I wont keep you."
Dante felt Monica cringe upon hearing what the gypsy had just said. He wished he could save her the pain of having to live through what the other woman was about to put her through.
Esmeralda rose without saying anything else and headed out of the caravan to inform Christine of the latest development. If their plan was going to work out she had to get to the opera house before Monica.
"Dante, what's going on?" Monica asked after she had recovered from the chill that she had suffered on her way to the carnival. The lion tamer turned towards her with saddened eyes as he moved around the large space and gathered his things.
"You wouldnt belive me if I told you," he replied, offering her his hand, "you need to see for yourself."
Monica took it without thinking twice and allowed herself to be led outside once more. Dante wrapped an arm around her shoulders and instructed a passerby to look after her horse until they got back.
He led her over to a car that had been parked just outside of the carnival. Monica got in and watched as Dante settled into the driver's seat before hesitantly turning it on and blasting the heat. She settled back into the leather seat and watched as they drove back into the city.
She kept quiet despite the hoard of questions that wanted to be voiced and answered.
Her mind was running wild with possibilities. Nothing made sense to her anymore. Esmeralda had been too calm to for her own liking, much to accepting of her leave. Why hadnt she kept her at the carnival and attempted to convince her to stay?
Monica could feel nervousness practically radiate from Dante as he drove through the streets of Paris. The closer they got to the Opera Populair the more reluctant and anxious he became. Her heart raced as he parked just outside of the main entrance and moved to open her door before she could protest.
He offered her his arm which she took after a second or two and allowed herself to be led inside.
Dante felt like his legs would give out beneath him before he could fully go through with what they had planned. He led Monica through the foyer and up the stairs instead of going to the ground level entrance.
He took a sharp intake of breath as he continued to walk her towards one of the boxes overlooking the main stage. He knew what would happen from here, they had rehearsed it a million times before.
He just never knew he would go through with it and shatter her hopes into a million pieces.
Monica turned towards him as he opened the door and led her into the small box, she was about to ask him why he had brought her there before a figure on the stage caught her attention.
The woman standing in the center of the stage was stunning in a white ball gown that sparkled brightly despite the dim lighting.
Monica tilted her head when she recoginzed the infamous chocolate curls that trailed down her back and delicately framed her porcelain face.
She was uncertain of who she was looking at until the woman opened her mouth and a melodic voice rang throughout the opera house.
"Say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime,
Say the word and I will follow you,
Share each day with me,
Each night, each morning..."
"Christine?" she gasped, turning towards Dante who only nodded in response before directing her towards the stage once more.
Monica's blood ran cold when she saw the Phantom walk out of the shadows towards the angelic soprano.
She hoped that after all of the damage that the woman had caused he would shun her, at the very least direct a look of hate towards her.
The Phantom on the other hand, could only gawk at the image before him. She was a ghost of his past, standing before him in all of her beauty like she had done countless times before in his dreams.
He was speechless, trying to figure out how and why she was there.
Before he could do or say anything, however, Christine stepped towards him and tilted her head upwards to kiss him. It was exactly like he remembered, her lips were soft as rose petals against his.
The intoxicating perfume that she wore made his head spin and lose control as he tried to process everything that was happening. He had heard her voice while he was passing through backstage and though it was a figment of his imagination until he saw her. To say that he was shocked was an understatement.
He let her kiss him, unaware of the audience up in box 5, before his senses came back to him and he gently pushed her away.
She had done so much damage to him, wronged him in more ways than he could possibly hope to count.
Christine broke away from him but didnt drop her arms which were securely wrapped around his neck. She glanced up at box 5 with a knowing grin before directing all of her attention back onto him.
"How-"
"It does not matter, mon ange," she whispered to him, pressing her body up against his. Instead of feeling desire towards her like he had felt countless times before a shiver of pure hate coursed through his body.
Christine misinterpreted it and leaned up to kiss him once more.
Monica turned away shortly after that. She hadnt heard their conversation but from the mere look and reaction that she had seen from the Phantom she could tell that Christine's actions were welcomed.
She thought that after everything she had put him through he would finally see her for what she was. She hoped that he would finally realize that she had only used him for her own convenience.
She hoped that her love would have been enough for him.
"My love," Dante started, reaching for her when he saw her shoulders slump and her breath halt.
Monica knew that she wasnt enough, she had never been enough to replace his beloved Christine.
"C-can we leave?" Monica asked, her voice breaking as she walked towards the door. Dante followed after her, knowing she had seen enough. Esmeralda's plan had gone exactly as planned.
The Phantom glanced up towards his box when she saw Christine glance up only to find it empty. He returned his gaze to the woman in his arms before stepping away from her embrace.
"Christine-"
"I understand, this is all too sudden, mon amour," Christine commented, cutting him off before he could even start, "I simply could not wait any longer to see you, forgive me."
The Phantom furrowed his brow when a realization hit him, this was all Esmeralda's doing. The gypsy had somehow brought Christine back. He couldnt think of a reason why until Monica crossed his mind.
"Christine, you cannot stay here-"
"Of course, I have arranged to stay just outside the Opera Populair," she replied cutting him off again. He was growing weary of her already, he remembered how her eagerness to please somehow got on his nerves.
"I shall return to my home and come back in the morning," she informed him, "I will give you some time alone to think, mon ange."
Before he could reply she turned and started to walk away. There was no use in calling her back. He needed some time to sit and sort through his thoughts. He couldnt do that with his former muse walking around the lair.
Her sudden return had caught him off guard, he had stayed quiet and allowed her ot have her way with him in his brief lapse of control. Now, with all of his senses back he couldnt help but think how wrong it had felt to have her kiss him again.
Had she never betrayed him, approved of the vitcome's guards that had been sent to dispose of him, he would have welcomed her with open arms. He would have brought down the moon and the stars for her in a heartbeat and composed a hundred operas in her honor.
He headed down towards his lair, his thoughts now a mess as he collapsed on one of his chairs and tried to ease his troubled mind.
Monica, on the other hand, sat outside with Dante for half an hour in pure silence. He could tell that she was trying to keep everyting in, to keep herself from breaking.
"I need to go back in for a couple things," she informed him, her voice weak, as he perked up upon hearing her voice after what seemed a millennia.
"Would you like me to accompany you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He knew she would come back to him after what she had just seen, he was willing to bet his life on it.
She shook her head and got out of the car, calming herself with a deep breath. She would keep her emotions in check, all she had to get were a few of her personal things that she couldnt leave behind, after that she would never have to see the opera ghost again.
Her body led her down to the lair, her body acting on its own accord as she went through the motions. She made sure to avoid all of the traps that had been set out and reached the Phantom's home in a few minutes.
The opera ghost's head snapped up when he heard the familiar jingle from her anklet. He had read her note and hadnt expected her to be back so soon.
He greeted her with a smile that quickly disappeared when he saw her disheveled appearance.
His eyes followed her as she moved towards his room and closed the door behind her. The Phantom furrowed his brow in confusion as he tried to remember if he had said the wrong thing or upset her recently. His head snapped up when she emerged, minutes later, with her bag now full of the clothes and items she left with him for when she stayed down in the lair.
Why would she take them with her now?
Was she going somewhere?
Why was she avoiding eye contact with him?
"Mon amour?" he whispered carefully, not wishing to startle her. Monica cringed at the endearment when she heard him direct it towards her. She no longer held that position in his heart, Christine's return made that painfully clear.
She tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes as she made her way towards the tunnels that led back up to the opera house.
The Phantom reached out for her as she passed by without acknowledging his presence. The moment his hand wrapped around her wrist and touched the scars that rested there Monica lost what little control she had over herself.
"Dont touch me!" she screamed, retreating away from him as if he had just struck her. The Phantom felt his heart drop when he saw fresh tears stream down her face. No matter how hard he tried he couldnt recall what he had done to upset her to such a point.
Monica held her hand against her chest gingerly, trying to hide the scar on her wrist by pulling her sleeve over it. She wanted nothing more than to turn and run like a coward, to never have to see his face again.
She had given him everything.
Everything.
She had endured a brutal beating that had nearly killed her in the process and lost most of her men and child.
Everything she had done had been for him.
She never expected him to repay her by running back into Christine's arms the moment his eyes landed on her.
"Have I done something to upset you, beloved?" he asked gently, trying to approach her as she backed away from his figure shaking her head. She hated that endearment the most. He had once told her it would be reserved for her and her only, she was almost certain that he had already used it on Christine.
"How dare you?" she hissed through grit teeth. The anger, sorrow, and betrayal that coursed through her veins would have been enough to overpower any man into acting out and killing another.
"How dare you ask if you've upset me after what you did!" she choked, unable to hold back the emotions that were drowning her where she stood.
"What have I done?" he asked, confusion written across his features as she scoffed at his reply.
"I hope Christine is worth it, Erik," Monica cried, shaking her head. The Phantom stopped walking towards her. How could she know of Christine?
"Did you see-"
"I saw everything," Monica replied, refusing to let him finish due to being unable to stand being in the same room as him. She was suffocating in his presence, unable to understand why she hadnt been enough to please him.
He shook his head as a small smile graced his lips, prepared to explain everything to her. Monica, however, misinterpreted his gesture and broke. She physically felt something within her shatter upon seeing him smile at her pain.
"I never want to see you again," she whispered, causing him to halt in his tracks while shaking his head in denial at what he was hearing, "I dont want you to contact me."
"Beloved-"
"Dont call me that," she snapped, "not when she held that title first."
The Phantom tried to regulate his breathing when he realized it was becoming erratic. She couldnt leave him, she was the only one who had stayed by his side despite everything.
He watched as she reached behind her neck to unlatch the necklace he had bought for her a while back. She placed the small diamond jewelry piece over his organ and walked away with a pained look on her face.
"It'll go better with her skin color," she commented, adjusting the straps of her bag over her shoulder. Before he could begin to explain himself another voice reached his ears, making him cringe at her less than adequate timing.
"Mon ange, the hotel was not up to my standards I was hoping I could stay with you!" Christine's voice called as she entered the lair and paused when she ran into Monica. She shrugged when she remembered what Esmeralda had told her of the other woman and walked past her, making sure to hit the other woman's back with her large luggage.
Monica stumbled forward with a wounded look, unaware that the angelic soprano turned violent whenever she was jealous, before glancing at the Phantom again.
Christine made her way over to the swan room without waiting for the Phantom's reply and made herself at home.
"Thank you for everything," Monica whispered genuinely, turning away from him in order to hide the steady fall of tears that fell down her cheeks, "goodbye, Erik."
The Phantom stared after her, frozen in horror, pain, and shock as he watched her dissapear into the darkness of the tunnel.
If Christine hadnt called for his presence he would have gone after Monica and stopped her from leaving. Instead, his body numbly resigned to heading towards the swan room to see what his former muse required.
Even as he tended to Christine's needs with a blank expression on his face he hoped to look up and see Monica's smiling face instead of Christine's aristocratic expressions learned from a lifetime of being with Raoul.
It wasnt until he was in his room that her absence truly affected him.
As he lay in his large bed and turned towards her side he saw nothing but an empty space next to him instead of her small figure curled around one of his pillows.
He gave into his body's need for sleep with the hope that everything had been nothing but a nightmare.
He hoped that when he woke he would see Monica's sleeping figure next to him instead of a cold spot beside him on the bed.
Review! What are your thoughts on the latest development?
