Chapter Ten
Too Late for Turning Back
Erik
Time away from Gabriella has become less attractive than it had been when we first met. Little things that occur are revealing things to me that are not possible. My mind has not lost cognitive reason and yet I am leaning toward the fantastic as the truth.
I cannot escape from what I know is happening to me even if I wanted to. I am falling in love with Gabriella and it frightens me. So much hurt came with my last foray into the love arena. I will not go through that again. So much is different about my relationship with Gabriella that my mind and heart war with my reason.
Night after night that stack of papers that might reveal all about Gabriella beckons me but I resist as dread of finding some truth I feel I already know keeps me from picking up one page or poster. Constant contact with her is revealing information to me that I am not certain is something that happened or something I dreamed. For something my mind created those situations seem very real.
Things are finally coming together for me. Life is becoming what I wanted all my life and did not dream that I would get any of those things. I fear if I let myself believe in it then something will come along and snatch it away leaving me with a hollowness that no amount of drink or tears will fill again.
One night on my regular weekly visit to Madame Giry the strangest thing happened. I was unprepared and at first acted poorly and as my common sense at last piped up my relationship with my savior had been renewed. While I gathered my thoughts to present her with instructions for the following week she caught me off guard when she casually said, "Monsieur Destler, is it not time we dispense with all this formality? Have I not earned the right to address you by your given name?"
"Madame we are not friends we are colleagues in this opera house. Your position is to carry out my orders, nothing more. Did you not betray my trust once? Am I to open myself to my Judas again?" disdain for her proposal leaves no doubt how I view our relationship. Alright I behaved poorly. I freely admit that. Not at first but later when I had time to sift through everything we said.
"Erik we are more than associates working to bring glory to this place. We have known one another for twenty-eight years. In all that time I only betrayed you once and believe me it was the hardest thing I ever did. I had to choose between saving my adopted daughter and the man I saved as a boy and considered my son," she counters my accusation with heartfelt sincerity.
This sort of conversation makes me uncomfortable. Our past relationship was easy to understand as we knew where the boundary lines were drawn and neither of us dared cross them. Now she proposes we erase the barrier between us thus blurring what our place is in this world we have created. I could not answer her without giving it careful thought. After all it is my life hanging in the balance.
"You may call me Erik and with your permission I shall address you as Antoinette," I surprise her by using her given name for the first time. Likely she is wondering how in the devil I know what her first name is. I will not tell her that years ago I snuck into the room they used to keep pertinent information before they remodeled and built the library which also houses the room where all papers are archived for safe keeping.
"Erik," she says my name as if she is testing the taste of it on her tongue. It must please her for she smiles at me for a moment before becoming her old gruff self instructing me to show her the papers she will need to read and analyze.
How strange it is to have someone else addressing me as if I were a normal man living a normal life. Gabriella makes my name sound like a caress. In fact when she speaks my whole body is overcome by- complete chaos. Everything speeds up when she is present. Similar to what Christine made me feel but more intense and by far less destructive. I suppose the difference is that now I know I am not in danger of being rejected.
Once Madame, no, Antoinette and I settle the matter of how we will greet one another we settle down to sifting through the mounds of notes I took earlier during rehearsal. Not all of the opera is written or the music composed so rehearsals are limited to what I have written so far. It is enough to keep everyone busy.
Leaving her to create her own list of tasks that I gave her it is time for me to leave. As I head for my usual mode of exiting Antoinette suggests offhandedly, "Would not the door work just as well Erik? Now that you are going to be the toast of all Paris should you not begin to accustom yourself to doing things in the normal way?"
"Indeed Antoinette as you say, I am now a member of society, or will be soon. No more dark mausoleums for me," confidence straightens my spine while giving an air of command to my appearance.
Walking down the hallway no one is about. I wonder what they would say if they did? Would they still remember the pathetic unmasked rejected lover from my failed attempt to win Christine? I am not yet ready to face anyone other than the four women who already know about me. I trust them to keep my secret.
Ideas for music and even a ballet are jumbling around inside of my head. Creativity has always been easy for me but now ideas are flowing so fast I am hard pressed to keep up with them. I am not a choreographer so will bow to Antoinette's expertise in that area. I will not have my manager pay the ballet corps for sitting idle while getting fat on my chef's gourmet cuisine. They must earn their keep which is why there will be dancing in this production as well as a matinee featuring a ballet I am working on.
The storyline came to me one night while trying to remember why Gabriella is so familiar. It is a love story with a tragic plot. As much as I wanted to produce only gaiety this story has a mind of its own. It is as if it had been waiting for just the right moment to be released from my subconscious.
Reminders of that story bring me back to things I would rather not know. I am moving down toward my study where I keep the objects of my dreams and hallucinations. Strangely drawn to those forbidden papers I circumvent them as I pace around my study. Now I wish I had burned them. Glancing toward the fireplace mantle in plain sight is a box containing wooden matches. All I would need to do is strike one and all this angst would be over. I could put this behind me and forget any theories or suspicions about what I imagine I know about Gabriella.
The need to know wins over self-preservation. A part of me already knows what I will find among all the letters and other written documents. What I believe is not possible but my eyes and what I know negate what the laws of reality show to be true in a normal world. When has my world ever been normal?
One after the other I force myself to read every word and look at every picture. As painful as it is I let my lost memories come back to me. My heart feels as if it has shattered. I don't want to believe but cannot deny what is right in front of me laid out in printed words of truth.
Everything I am feeling urges me to rid the world of this truth. Perhaps if I do then I can take some drug to rid me of every painful detail clearly revealed to me in the last three hours.
Angry at God and the world I swipe my hand across my desk scattering the papers around the room just as my heart has shattered and been tossed in a sea of despair. By turns I curse God and every deity I have ever heard about. Why should one take precedence over another? I hate them all and the false piety their believers spread around the world. Religion, what good did it ever do me? Belief in good, what use is it to me? Nothing good that crossed my path ever stayed long enough for me to enjoy my good fortune. It stayed only long enough to rend my heart with agony when it ended.
First my own mother rejects and reviles me declaring in front of a priest I am something evil that had taken root in her womb to take her soul and that I would do the same to anyone foolish enough to think me only a boy. Her damning me so positively swayed a man of the cross who should have known better to close his eyes and ears when my mother revealed her plan for me in the confessional. That heretic chose to condemn me to six years of hell all because my face gave credence to my mother's accusations. His devotion to his God lacked conviction.
Release comes to me in tears once again. Not one tear I shed as a child erased all the nights my captives beat me, starved me, they displayed me as they did the animals. Not one tear I shed for Christine washed away one minute of the agony my soul suffered loving her in vain then losing her. Death did not answer my pleas for mercy as the God everyone praises for his divine benevolence turned his back on me also.
Only Gabriella showed me a kinder world existed. Yes I knew all along she drifted around like some ghost. I did not want to see what stared me right in the face. To believe such things lead to knowledge I could not face so I buried it so deep only Gabriella coming to me as she did forced me to face what I knew all along.
Others will decry a madman has taken reign over the opera house once more. To speak of what I know fills me with such sorrow for I fear that telling my truth and Gabriella's truth will send my world up in a puff of smoke.
Slamming my fists against the sides of my head I try to beat everything out but only succeed in causing my head to ache. Maybe if I feel enough physical pain I can push back all that I revealed tonight. For so many years it remained dormant when it would not have mattered yet now it surfaces and will destroy what little happiness I have been able to find.
I know we do not have long but I shall endeavor to make whatever time we do have filled with only joy. Gabriella must have her night on stage as she was meant to be. Her chance had been taken from here by an act so violent and unnecessarily vile the words spoken aloud will be almost blasphemous.
Dropping my head down on my folded arms I give way to my grief. Just this one time will I let my emotions rule me where Gabriella is concerned. She will not hear what needs to be told from me until the time is right. Any sooner and none of us will get what we want or need. I will lose something very precious but will also gain something, redemption. One selfless act will cleanse my blackened soul. This act is of such magnitude surely even God must pardon me from my past sins.
As much as I deny him and revile him I am just like most of humanity. While denying such a powerful being there is a place in all of us that lives a kernel of doubt. When in pain or despair becomes unbearable it is his name we call out for mercy and guidance. Even I am guilty of this. I pray my belief is proven wrong. Gabriella will be safe from harm from any living being.
Regret for not having killed the one person who Gabriella feared most sooner is a bitter pill I will have to swallow and live with the result until the day I die.
My course is set. Over the next few months I will store every minute and commit every aspect of Gabriella to memory. Where once I drew pictures of Christine now I work long into the night caressingly stroking the curve of Gabriella's lips, the length of her slender neck, those alluringly placed freckles that cause her so much despair and all her many assets. If it is all I am to have to commemorate our short time together then these will be masterpieces fit for any gallery. No other eyes shall see them but mine. This part of Gabriella is mine and mine alone. Capturing her soul on canvas and drawing pads will give me some comfort in the lonely days that will come with her farewell.
She will not at first comprehend what I say is the truth. Only after showing her what I have seen and read will it gradually begin to dawn on her just what happened. I must be cruel to be kind. It must come down to me to reveal why she has not left the opera house in over twenty years. Through me her heart will be broken when she knows we will not grow old together or share the joy of children. It will be me, her Erik, her love who destroys her hopes and dreams and condemns both of us to a future God or fate or whatever universal being controls these things planned from the moment Gabriella and I took our first breaths.
Every day Gabriella's voice becomes more heavenly and less earthly just as I thought Christine's did not so long ago but with one difference, Gabriella is a true Angel of Music. Only God could create such perfection. I am only the instrument to lead her to the path so she may use her instrument properly.
I sense that Gabriella wants to move our relationship forward and I would like for that to happen too but hesitate to commit something I feel is a sin in the eyes of God, a God Gabriella believes in unreservedly even if we have not spent hours discussing such things.
This night is no different. I can find no flaw in her performance. Why should she not perform it well as this is her story, her life, her ending?
Playing a piece we both like she suddenly stops singing. I continue on as sometimes she likes to listen to the music. Feeling her arms come around my neck I know I am in trouble. Temptation has been beating at my door for many weeks with no help from Gabriella.
Her lips caressing my ear as she kisses me nearly has me falling forward onto the piano keyboard. A soft breath of warm air wafts against my skin raising gooseflesh and other things I will not mention.
"Erik I want to sit with you on the divan. I promise I will not seduce you," she lies even as her tongue slides warm and wet over my ear. Sharp teeth nip my lobe increasing my ardor. The woman is dangerous, dangerous to my peace of mind.
Resistance is futile so I turn and grasp her around the waist so I can pull her across my lap. Freedom to do such things did not come easily to me. It took Gabriella several bold attempts at seduction to win me over. Honestly it did not take all that much. I wanted to be persuaded to take what she offered me so freely.
Lovemaking is not something I have experienced and my experience with kissing is almost nonexistent as well. I find delight in knowing the woman in my arms is just as innocent as I am. No other man has touched her in the ways she lets me touch her, no, begs for my touch. There have even been times when that little temptress has positioned my hand on the soft mounds of her bosoms. Daringly I had slid my hand underneath her bodice and felt warm flesh beneath my callused fingertips. For a moment I wished for my hands to be as soft as de Chagny's must be for he does not do manual labor nor does he play any string instruments. My love's groan of pleasure changed my mind.
That night we both nearly lost our heads. We ended up sprawled across my bed without either of us being aware of it. Only when reason somehow returned to me did I manage to pull away from Gabriella. Gradually my kisses and caresses became less demanding and more tender explorations, ones of discoveries and not used to ignite our passions again.
Gabriella made no protest and even managed to get enthusiastic about roaming over my unattractive map work of scaring from both the whips and hot pokers that seared my tender young flesh as a child. Sweet salutations from her lips seemed to heal them although I may be prejudiced for I know she healed the hurt little boy still lurking inside of me. We heal each other although she does not realize what I do for her but it has been revealed to me. A life-force is an amazing thing. I give to Gabriella as she gave to me at times. I have to be careful and not give too much of myself. I cannot lose sight of what must happen. Easily my resolve could be compromised by my yearning to keep this woman beside me for eternity but for her sake I must make the sacrifice of letting her go.
Before things can go too far I break away from Gabriella to go into the kitchen to put the tea kettle on the stove. I hate tea but need the distraction and cannot risk drinking anything more substantial lest I lose all my inhibitions.
Christine has been much more attentive to me to Raoul's chagrin and Gabriella's displeasure although she does not speak of it to me or Christine. I am sure she knows any concern she may have is unfounded but like me she will feel the same toward anyone of the opposite sex who spends longer than seems necessary in our company.
The night of the premier for The Angel's Choice is in one week. That is all the time we have left. I will not do as Gabriella wants and take her innocence knowing what is to come. Proof of how much I have grown is that I put my own wants and needs aside and consider only hers. I did something similar for Christine when I let her go the first time and when I accepted the second time we could not be lovers but we could be friends.
I do not know if I can survive for long without her but I shall try not to cowardly take the easy way out. There is still so much for me to do. Antoinette and I have arranged for me to meet everyone connected with the production. If I do not become physically ill I shall walk onto that stage with my head held high all the while keeping my eyes firmly on my beautiful Gabriella.
No regrets no surrender come what may.
A/N: When I wrote this I almost cried. As I edited it I cried without reservations. I felt Erik's pain more and his sacrifice meant more the second time around.