My savvy fellow readers, you are so kind to me! You warm my heart with your generous reviews.
I'm sorry about this one taking so long. I totally revamped this chapter. I wrote 11 pages and really hated them and spent a few months brooding over them… and then I deleted them and rewrote them. Its funny how different the story would have ended up if I had used the first draft… this chapter is rather important!
Doubtless there are many reviews from last year that I never got around to answering, and for that, I am very sorry, but I don't feel I have space to answer them all.
However, I was planning on adding some non- Opera music, for those of you who were curious.
Jamie: Yes. I believe we've discussed this already. But feel free to leave more reviews. :)
HeatherGreySweater: Ahh, thank you so much. I have no really good excuses except writer's block and a whole lot of stuff that I couldn't get rid of. I'm just really happy to be writing again, and I hope I can meet your expectations with this story! :)
Terbear: I hope so too, I really want to keep you guys happy, you're so faithful! Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy the story. Hee hee, I hope I can keep you in suspense!
Susan B. : Thank you! I did try so hard to make my characters (Erik especially- he was a difficult one) true to the original Leroux personas. I realize that Erik came out rather un Leroux-ish though. I wanted them to be true, real, and personal to every reader. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much, and I hope my future chapters can deliver as well! Happy reading! :)
(11/1/08 I EDITED THIS CHAPTER- ORIGINALLY POSTED 10/26-I'M TERRIBLY SORRY ABOUT THIS)
Okay. Whew. I'm excited. I'm pumped. I'm going to finish and update this chapter soon! Good. So.
Just one more thing.
This italicized part won't make complete sense to you yet, but against my better judgment I'm throwing it in there anyway. Remember it though. Like all of the italicized blurbs, this one is darkly significant.
… how many of you actually read Author notes at the beginning of the chapter? If any of you have read this, put the words 'ani vata' in your review (if you review, that is, and you remember this.) Do you think it would be better if I put this stuff in the post- chapter author's note? Maybe I just talk too much.
And now, without further blabbing by the authoress, I present Chapter Thirteen.
The girl was tired. Lately she always felt like this, like she was pushing herself too hard. She hardly got any rest. It was just more, more, more; always running. If she ran far away enough from herself, maybe she could finally face reality.
Now she caught herself sighing, something that she promised herself she wouldn't do anymore. So much for promises. She snorted at her reflection. She had also resolved to ignore them today, but that hadn't worked out so well either, had it?
Then, suddenly, she felt the tears on her cheeks, and the heaviness in her throat and chest. Hadn't she finished with crying yet?
Her desperate sobs filled her bedroom and they scourged her ears like icy wind. She was so sick of crying! So utterly sick of being weak. But what could she do? Her chest felt swollen and empty. She was alone, truly and completely.
So fine, she told herself. So fine. She could go it alone, couldn't she? She was stronger than this! Stronger than him!
The word finally gave the girl resolve enough to push up from her vanity desk. The thought of him blazed through her memory like fire, and the revulsion it sent through her nearly eclipsed the echoing pain. Nearly.
She hated him!
And this thought allowed her to go through the thoughtless tasks of preparing for bed, the senselessness of beginning a new day, when there was not a soul in the world that cared, except for her father.
Her shadow followed her as she haphazardly threw her pajamas over her head. It was a very well conducted shadow, and hardly made any noise. As the girl sat down to brush out her long silky hair, the shadow yearned to run its fingers through it. Her eyes avoided her reflection in the mirror, but her shadow gazed upon it with awe. Her shadow traced every feature, every freckle and every wrinkle of her face until she dropped the brush on the vanity and made her way to turn off the lights in her room.
Darkness enveloped them, and her shadow didn't dare make a move any closer to her. Being alone with her was enough. The shadow felt the intimacy of the moment, the tranquility of being alone together. It was enough to frighten him into drawing back into the real shadows, and recognize that as a man, he had no right to invade her privacy.
He ached with the same sort of longing emptiness that he had heard in her cries, and yet his pain was so much more palpable. Because her pain was his pain. And she was so close, and yet so unattainable. He could brush his fingers across her cheek and she would never know his touch from a grace of the wind. It would have been so simple… but it would have been falsehood. If there was anything he needed with her, it was truth. And the very simple truth was that he would never feel about someone the way he felt about her.
The man listened closely for the evening out of her breath, and knew precisely when she had given way to dreams. Then he stalked quietly out of the shadows, towards where her bed lay in the corner of the small room. And he knelt beside her as she slept, her soft breathing the only audible sound in the room.
But he was crying, heaving silent sobs as the papers weighed heavily in his palm. He knew what was expected of him, and yet it hurt him so much to do it, to even think it. It was impossible. No one could take away this castle of dreams. Here was untouchable. Here was love.
He couldn't do it. He wouldn't. That was the end of it; how could he make another decision? It would be another falsehood to go through with it!
But yet he ached- he ached for her to be beside him. She was perfection. She was his heart. This fragile, untouched moment was very nearly the best he had ever experienced in his life. She was so peaceful right now, not like the dead creature she dragged around on her feet these days. She was vibrant now, alive. Sleeping, yes, but still close. It made him feel warm, like he was hugging her.
Sir had often asked him about a particular aspect of his life, and he had never felt any inclination to answer. Because he knew that he could never explain to Sir the strange phenomenon of Sir's daughter, and the way that only her presence could evoke such feelings inside of him. Such feelings that a monster was never supposed to feel.
It was here, by her bedside, that he dutifully offered praise to the Almighty One. It was only there that he could feel truly thankful for everything he had been given.
The tones of my voice lingered and died slowly. The angel- no, Erik! my G-d, what an amazing thing to be able to say that name! How tremendous to voice that name and have it refer to a real person, real flesh and blood that I could touch. To say it connected me to my father, to those pleasant fifteen years I had spent in Paradise. To say it was redemption; it was, as the angel- no, Erik! had said, coming full circle.
I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted this miracle to speak to me with his angel's voice and complete the dream. But he was silent.
It was an uncomfortable silence. I was still halfway rotated on the piano bench watching him, my fingers on the keys for the next chord. His entire frame was blocking me out. I could see that there was emotion in his eyes, but he had closed me off. I was, to be truthful, a bit confused. He hadn't moved since I had addressed him. In the past, hadn't he been the one insisting that I knew his identity? Upset, even, that I wouldn't identify him? And now he was so rigid, it looked painful.
I was frightened to speak again, to ruin this wonderful dream. My father's last promise to me had finally come true! Erik had always been the protector, the overseer and the knight in shining armor. How ironic that Nadir had chosen that particular metaphor! Erik was the one who was supposed to understand. My father had loved me, and if he had left me in Erik's care then he must have trusted Erik implicitly. I wanted to make my father proud by uniting with his favorite charge, his named Angel of Music. And the older I grew, especially in my late teens, I had longed for this Erik. I felt so alone. I yearned for this understanding man… the one I had always dreamed of marrying, with my father there, dancing at my wedding…
Ah! but he was moving! My heart began to pound heavier and slower as he inched purposefully towards me. I pulled myself out of my memories and fixated directly on his progress. He was so beautiful…
He sat down on the piano bench next to me and the whole right side of my body exploded in pins and needles. My face was burning.
But he didn't look at me. I gave him room and he spread his hands across the keys. His left forearm brushed against my shoulder, but I remained very, very still, and he didn't seem to mind. Instead, he began to play.
"In a small cafe, on a crowded night, in a spot of light stands the singer…" He sang quietly, almost at the level and tone of a speaking voice and I felt so privileged, at that moment, to be with him and to know him. I was hearing the Angel of Music. I was hearing Erik.
"And the band begins and the beat is strong and the room belongs to the singer…" He was singing slowly. His eyes were on the keys, but I knew he wasn't really seeing them. I doubted he was seeing anything. His muscles were clenched and I sensed he was shielding me from some very strong emotion.
His voice swelled but increased in intensity and not volume, if that was possible.
"All the people turn to hear the sad refrain and catch the cry of pain that's in his song…
But in his haunted face and in his searching eyes there's sign that something's wrong…" He gave me a fleeting look and my throat began to close. One of us was hurting… one of us was breaking. I couldn't tell if it was him or me.
He turned his head away from me and closed his eyes.
"Now the eager crowd hangs on every word, but the sounds are slurred by the singer… Till the people feel every aching part of the broken heart of the singer…"
There were tears, but they could have belonged to either of us. To both of us.
"Still the song goes on about a love he knew that seemed so sure and true but turned out wrong… and from the tears he shows, nobody really knows, is he the singer or the song? Is he the singer or the song?"
"Angel- Erik-"
"As the sad song ends he hits the final note; it catches in his throat but comes out strong. And as he bows and goes nobody really knows, was he the singer or the song? Was he the singer or the song?"
His tones, too, died within the room, and the only sounds left were my quiet sobs. I tried to stifle them and my throat protested and I hiccupped and coughed amongst my tears. Erik turned suddenly and enveloped me into his arms.
"Don't cry, my sweetest, don't cry."
My tears kept coming, and my chest kept heaving. I was warm within his embrace, and my hands fell across his chest, where I could feel his heart beating. I pressed my face into his shirt. His song had depressed me utterly, although I didn't know why. I had slipped into the mire. I had given into hopelessness, pushed over the edge by the thought of him with a broken heart. It was a gnawing, horrible feeling. I wanted to cry it out.
"Christine… my dear, my dear songbird, my only one…"
"Erik-" I couldn't stop sobbing! "Erik-"
"Yes, Christine. I'm here." He adjusted his arms to pull me closer. He settled his head on my shoulder, across my curls, and began to whisper me to me, stroking my back lightly. I couldn't hear what he was saying but his closeness eventually comforted me. When my sobs finally subsided, he continued to hold me, and I began to feel light again. He was pulling me out of my quicksand just by holding me to him. In that silence I felt as if there were no safer nor better place for me than in his presence and his embrace. And I knew that I was in love with him.
His whispers tickled my ears and I finally identified it as French.
I pulled away from him and looked into his eyes.
"I didn't know you spoke French," I said. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing to say, but I was not the most focused person at that moment.
His eyes softened and I felt so content, falling into his eyes.
"I was born in France," he answered quietly, stroking the curve of my hair. His eyes followed his hand as he brought it to gently caress my cheek. "I moved to America when I was very young, because my mother was sick. It was around then that I met your father…" The rhythmic movement of his hand and the soft, rich quality of his voice were threatening to put me to sleep. I was so exhausted. It had been an inordinately long day. Despite the fact that my world had just turned upside down, I still had to live in reality, and I probably had to go to work the next day.
"Erik-" His eyes shifted to mine and I nearly felt faint. To say that name! I let my head fall onto his right shoulder. It was very comfortable. I liked the texture of his shirt.
He continued to touch me, very lightly, now down and across my left arm.
"You are the Erik."
"Yes." I could hear his smile. "I suppose you could call me that."
"The Erik my father spoke about."
"Yes."
"He said you would understand." I didn't want to mention my deformity outright. I hoped
he would catch the allusion.
Erik was silent for several seconds. "I had hoped that you would understand."
"What do you mean?" I lifted my head to look at him again.
He shrugged. He dropped his hand from my arm and I nearly had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grabbing his hand back.
"Why should we skirt around the issue?" He asked.
I swallowed. My fear had returned, destroying that wonderful peace I had felt within his arms.
"I don't understand," I said, my voice low. What would he tell me? That he knew about my deformity and he couldn't deal with it? Would he hope I would understand that?
I knew I wouldn't be able to take such a rejection. Not now, not when I had finally, finally allowed myself to love again.
Erik sighed and turned away from me completely. He let his hands rest on the edge of the keys.
"Don't be silly, Christine." His voice was low and heavy with emotion. I was surprised when he dropped his head onto his outstretched arms. Why was he suddenly upset? Why did he look so… guilty? "It has not been so long, has it?"
"No…" I, too, turned away from him. I began to feel cold, almost numb. I should have known this was coming. No, the fire hadn't been long ago at all.
He was silent, and anger began to well up inside of me. Why had he waited all this time to tell me; why had he taken so many measures to make me fall in love with him… if only to draw the line at friendship, because he knew of my deformity? How was that fair?
"Erik…" I sighed. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
His head snapped up to find my eyes, and I only got a glimpse of the off appearance of his face- for he was visibly crying but his skin remained pale and serene- before he locked me in place with a stare.
"And how would you have reacted, Christine, when I just waltzed back into your life? Would you not have hated me? No, it was better this way, better that I should have stayed far away, better that you did not know me. Then I was sure you would not leave me…"
"Erik, I couldn't leave you-" I was no longer sure we were talking about the same thing.
He ignored me, and his eyes turned almost violent with long suppressed emotion as his voice intensified with his rant. "Yes! Better I should have stayed away! Then you could have pretended. Oh, Christine, forget what you have heard and pretend! Close your eyes, my dear, close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth and the truth isn't what you want to see! In the dark it is easy to pretend…"
I shivered at the weariness that entered his voice as he trailed off.
"If you would have returned to me, Erik, and told me the truth, I would have welcomed you, as I do know, because you knew my father and loved him, as I did."
This time his voice was very quiet, like a panther ready to strike. I felt that he was angry, but I couldn't understand why.
"Are you telling me," he whispered, "that you have no reason to fear me? None at all?" He searched my eyes for my reaction. "Are you saying that you don't hate Erik for what he has done to you?"
I blinked, now a little confused and a little frightened.
"Why would I hate you, Erik?" I stuttered a little. "As far as I know, you have given me no reason to dislike you… have you?"
He stared at me. It startled me into more speech.
"I mean, you've given me so much- you've given me everything! I- I'd be crazy to hate you… right? I mean… my father told me about you, so… right?" I abruptly cut off my meaningless drivel.
In a very deliberate movement, Erik lifted a hand and brought it very close to my shoulder. His eyes watched mine for any indications of rejection.
"You are telling the truth." The words didn't fit his tone; he sounded defeated. "You really don't know."
"Don't know about what?" I asked halfheartedly. Again with the mysteries? Why was everything with him so complicated? I was beginning to tire again.
He shook his head. "You don't know." He repeated.
"You could tell me," I suggested, only half jokingly. It would have been so nice to eliminate all blocks between us.
"I can't." He turned to me slowly, an incredulous look in his beautiful eyes. "I can't tell you."
"You can." I said emphatically. "Erik, this is the only way! We can heal together, we can grow! But only if everything is out in the open."
"No." His voice grew stronger, and with it, tears began to well in his eyes. "No! You don't know and I can't tell you!" Erik met my eyes and his desperation infected me. I felt my own tears begin to spill.
"I don't understand! Just tell me Erik, and I promise I'll forgive you!"
"I can't tell you. I can't! I can't! Erik is selfish and he cannot tell you because you would hate him and would run away from him… Erik cannot allow that… Christine… forgive me…"
My heart rate began to pick up. I was sure I had never heard him talk in the third person. And he sounded so vulnerable… Nadir's words began to flow through my mind. Had I finally pushed Erik off of the edge?
"I'll never run away from you, Erik." I said, because I could think of nothing else in the face of this big something that he refused to explain.
He latched onto my words like a starving man takes bread. "Do you promise me, Christine?" He whispered.
I looked into his eyes, and I was made to remember just how beautiful he was. I was made to remember how I felt just sitting next to him and losing myself within him. His face was so perfectly textured, like a marble statue. He radiated warmth, and my eyes traveled across the planes of his face and the golden oceans of his eyes. I was made to remember that I loved him. I took his hand into mine and felt that sensation- that began in the pit of my stomach and traveled down the length of arm into my fingertips- and I knew that I could have no other answer to his question, if I were to survive.
"I promise you, Erik."
He smiled and it was like sunlight. I felt like I was being rewarded for giving the right answer.
His face took on an almost boyish appearance as he took my other hand in his own and faced me across the piano bench. He had become exited about something, and his eyes were glittering, alive.
"Christine, I will take care of you. And you will be the happiest of women. Because you promised me!"
It was difficult for me to speak, because his eyes were suddenly so bright. He held me closer.
"We will sing, sing until we swoon away with delight! Yes, together… together, as you have promised me. We can do whatever you like; whatever you desire will be yours! Yes, Christine… you promised me!"
I loved the feeling of being within his arms so that I didn't give another thought to his words. In an unclouded state of mind I might have picked up his stress on my promise. And perhaps I would have given it more thought. I didn't know then what the consequences of that promise would be. I would pay dearly for such blindness.
But that is far into the future.
"Christine…" he whispered. "Your name is a treasure…"
"Erik…" I pulled away from him at the same time that he pulled me closer, and I ended up with my forehead pressed against his, staring into his deep, stunning eyes.
I felt our connection strengthen, like he had tied a chord around my heart. I closed my eyes. His gaze was too intense for all of the emotional turmoil inside of me.
"Erik," I tightened my grip on his shoulders. My love was swelling into an incontrollable storm. I needed to hear his voice again to control it, or perhaps- to release it.
"Mon ange," he whispered, "Mon ange de la'musique… Je vous aime…. Je vous aime…"
I didn't understand any of what he said, but it sounded so lovely in his angel's voice. I wished I had paid more attention in French class in high school... I had forgotten everything. I laced my arms around him and breathed deeply. I was at peace! It was such an amazing thing to even think about. I never wanted to leave him…
"Erik," I looked up at him suddenly, a smile breaking its way across my face. He smiled too, watching me. I gave a short, uncharacteristic giggle. "Where do you live?"
He blinked. "There is a small apartment on Santa Fe St. and 3rd Avenue."
"You're right by Forest Hill Park!"
"Yes, do you know the area?"
"Of course I do! Oh, Erik, can we go?"
"What- now?"
"Yes! Yes, I want to see where you live."
He was silent for a moment.
"Is there a problem?" I asked softly.
He met my gaze intensely. He was searching for something in my eyes, and I don't know if he ever found it.
"If this is your wish…"
"I'd like to go to the park with you. It would be sweet." I tried to smile my prettiest smile. I wasn't completely adept at the art of persuasion and I hadn't had much practice in the last few years. At least I didn't do something as inane as batting my eyelashes…
Erik considered it for a moment and then made a proposition.
"If you continue to come to your music lessons and I see that you are properly devoted, then I will obey your every command."
"Do you think I have been improving any?" I asked shyly.
"Of course! Christine, under my tutelage you have blossomed and shone… soon you will be ready to take the stage."
I felt like an anvil had been dropped in my stomach.
"Stage?" My voice was low and surprised. "What do you mean?"
He smiled softly at me and stroked his thumb over my fingers. I didn't think it was fair… it didn't help me concentrate on his words at all.
"Surely you did not think this was all in vain. Christine, you belong to the stage. You were meant to be Margarita, to be Carmen and Juliet. No one else can do it like you can. Just imagine! There is Carmel, and then there is New York! And then London and Paris… the possibilities are endless."
He sounded so excited, but the longer he spoke the more depressed and confused I became. I shook my head slowly and his eyes caught the movement. His fingers ceased their ministrations and I felt that I had somehow angered him.
"Erik, I can't perform on a stage-"
"You will, Christine. It is in your blood."
"No. No, I can't. You know I can't, Erik."
He narrowed his eyes and dropped my hand. I felt a fear work its way up my skin.
"What do you mean by this?"
I couldn't meet his gaze anymore. Would he make me say it? Surely he must know! My deformity would keep me from any stage in the world… the part of the body most exposed by the women of the stage was restricted for me… all new wardrobes, and never mind the initial explanations! No company, no matter how good Erik might think I was, would take such trouble over another, normal singer. I sighed. Normal…
I tried to make something up.
"I have work. I have a life here. I have to think about my company, and Meg, and Shadow…" Raoul. The word suddenly pulsed at my brain. Had I really forgotten? Raoul! Did he deserve this? I had effectively cheated on my boyfriend. On the dearest, sweetest man I'd ever met…
Erik seemed to have heard it, too. "You say that you would abandon music for that? For a life you don't live and friends you don't acknowledge?"
"That's unfair, Erik-"
"Is it? Tell me music hasn't awoken your soul. Tell me I haven't given you more than that boy ever could!"
Silence embraced us and I pulled away from him slowly. I wanted to keep Raoul out of this. I was frightened by the undeniably virulent tone in Erik's voice.
"It's different, Erik," I explained softly. I couldn't meet his eyes. "You live with music. Raoul lives with his sport. Both of you are passionate in your own way. Raoul can give me only what he knows, the same way you can give me only what you know…"
"But by your own definition- you too live with music. You are music, are you not? What can he teach you? What does he offer?"
"Opposites attract, right?" I tried to smile. Then I shrugged. "What does it matter, Erik? This is not about him."
"But it is! You give your heart to him-" He broke off suddenly and stared at the ground by my feet. I did not know what to say. I knew by now that I didn't love Raoul. Or at least, not as much as I loved Erik. But I wasn't ready to admit it to him; I had hardly admitted it to myself.
Erik, that one, mysterious figure… he turned to me at this and looked into my eyes. His touch, soft as ever, graced my arms. I could see swirls and oceans and storms in his eyes. My face, my body- everything was tingling. I wanted to reach out and brush back a lock of his dark hair.
"No more talk of this." He whispered finally. He was leaning closer, and I could smell the freshly laundered scent of his shirt. He looked at me pointedly.
"You will perform. You will sing for me and the angels will weep… no emperor will have received a fairer gift than your voice…"
I nodded foggily, registering only the beauty of his voice and the heat of his breath on my cheeks.
"Oh, my dearest one." He pulled me into a hug and I tightened my grip around him.
"Sing something for me," I pleaded.
He conceded, and I only remember the rapture that I felt before I fell asleep.
The next sensation I recall is that of Meg whispering in my ear, and (was that Shadow?) a small fur ball curled up beside me. I awoke slowly. The room was dark, and I recognized the fabric of my comforter. Erik must have taken me home again. I glanced to my side and I saw two things that startled me.
My alarm clock read 3:30am. Why was I up at such an hour? And beside the clock- a single red rose, tied with a black ribbon. I smiled and picked it up. It smelled heavenly, like an Angel… an Angel of Music… My eyes fluttered closed again and I saw him standing before me…
The velvet petal jostled against my lips and I jerked awake again. Meg flipped on my lamp and I squinted and teared against the brightness that enveloped the room. She frowned at me and removed the rose from my face.
"What's the deal, Christine?"
I blinked, incredulous.
"Meg," I protested. I cleared sleep from my throat. "It's three in the morning. Can't we-"
"No. No, you can't put this off any longer. I want answers."
I sat up and really look at her. She looked tired and confused, but mostly upset. I sighed.
"He brought me back again, right?"
"Yeah. Who is he?"
I hesitated. "Sit," I said, patting the space beside me. I moved Shadow's sleeping form to my other side. Meg gave me a leveling glare before pulling a chair out from under my desk.
"Who is he?" She repeated.
I dropped my gaze from hers. I knew I had done wrong to Raoul… I knew I was guilty… but I didn't want to discuss it with anyone. What had happened between Erik and I was so special, so private, and ultimately so bound up with our past together that I could not sufficiently explain it to anyone else. I didn't want this to be reduced to some cheap affair, either. I had never wanted to cheat on Raoul… my life was not a soap opera. Raoul was like the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't even begin to think about him, except for my firm resolution to end my relationship with him. Of course, in that decision, there was remorse. I really had felt something for him… but I had made a choice. The minute I pressed my soul to Erik's, I knew that I had fallen off the other side of the cliff. Raoul was too kind to be deceived in this way.
"An angel," I answered. This was a mistake. She groaned angrily and hit her fist against the backboard of the chair.
"Christine, I want the truth! Do I look like a fool to you? What the heck is going on with you?"
"Meg, please-"
"Please what! Please keep secrets from my boyfriend while I cavort with some other guy? Please keep my office while I run off to sing at the Opera House?"
"Meg-"
"What! Stop sighing like you aren't guilty. If you don't want me to give a detailed explanation of everything you've been doing lately to your boyfriend –that's right, Raoul, remember him?- then I suggest that you start talking!"
I shook my head. "You don't understand. It wasn't like that…"
"You cheated on him! Admit it!"
Tears began to lodge in my eyes. I had really cared about Raoul… but he just wasn't Erik. Was I really guilty for not being able to control my own heart?
"I love him, Meg." I whispered. A tiny rivulet trickled down my face. I didn't bother to flick it aside.
She stared at me. "Who? Raoul?" She snorted even as I began to shake my head again. "You certainly have an interesting way of showing it-"
"No," I said mournfully. "No… him. I'm in love with him. Erik."
Meg blinked at me.
"Erik," she said slowly, "that's that guy? The one who brought you home?"
I nodded.
She leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.
"I never figured you for this kind of person, Chrissy." Her use of my nickname signaled the evaporation of her anger, and I felt slightly relieved. "I never thought you'd actually cheat on someone, with all of your talk about love and loyalty and whatnot…"
"I'm not that kind of person. Really, I do believe in all those things… I didn't really cheat on him. I mean, I didn't kiss Erik or do anything more than that…"
A slight, sad smile formed on Meg's upturned face.
"Are you trying to convince me or you?"
I was silent.
"Christine, you are going to break someone's heart."
These words startled me for a moment. I looked up at her, finally irritated. I knew that already- hadn't I been agonizing over how to break it to Raoul? I didn't need anyone reminding me of how badly I had messed things up! I wanted some compassion now…
"Chrissy, maybe you didn't kiss him, but you are dating one man and in love with another. Tell me how that's loyal."
I felt more tears, and I sighed angrily. I wanted to be done with crying forever!
"I don't know Meg, maybe I'm just a terrible person. I didn't mean to betray him-"
"Most people don't mean to cheat."
"I'm just trying to say that I was innocent. I didn't plan this all out and decide to break Raoul's heart. I thought I loved him… but Erik got there first."
Meg frowned. "Christine, you are going to tell me everything. You are going to explain to me why you cheated on your boyfriend."
I didn't even bother arguing the accusation. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
Meg wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Start with this other guy."
I sighed. I didn't try to protest. She had known for weeks about Erik, had probably seen all the signs…
"My father once spoke of an angel… I used to dream he'd appear…" I recounted the entire story.
"So what are you going to do now?" She asked.
I let out an orphaned sob. "How can I know, Meg? What is there to do? I can't leave him, I can't be without him-"
"Raoul loves you," she argued. "Raoul is a great guy."
I closed my eyes. My pain was rising. "I know he is. He's fantastic." I shook my head. "But he's not for me… you don't understand, Meg. I can't be without Erik. I need him."
"You don't need anyone." She countered. "I understand perfectly. I've been in love before. And let me tell you something about love, Christine- you don't just fall in love with someone. It's not so completely random. You chose to fall in love with him. You chose to take that first step."
I sighed. "So what should I do?"
"Tell Raoul."
The very thought scared me. I couldn't bear to see tears in his eyes; in his kind, generous eyes…"I don't want to hurt him more than necessary, Meg. And I didn't really cheat-"
"Yes you did. Would you please just admit it? You know that Eli cheated on me and that I found out about it from a second hand source. Don't you remember how terrible I felt? And here you are trying to weasel your way out of responsibility for your own actions! You've got to tell him the truth."
"But-"
"If you truly cared about him you'd tell him the truth."
I swallowed a sob. I didn't tell her that I meant to break up with him. I suddenly couldn't voice the words. Raoul was safe, and loving, and patient. He would probably love me even after I had told him. Erik was mysterious… he had a control over me that I did not comprehend and until now had not questioned. But I loved him… right? Was I making the wrong choice? Was I, like so many other soap opera stars, simply giving into passion? Maybe I was moving too fast…
"Alright." I said finally. "Alright, Meg, whatever you want…"
Meg stood and gave me a short hug.
"Thanks, Christine. You are doing the right thing." She turned out my light and left the room. I laid back against my pillows in the darkness. Sleep would not come for several hours. I debated in my mind endlessly about Raoul. Finally I made the horrid decision of waiting until the morning. I would speak to Raoul when I saw him…
Appropriately, the morning was dank and gray. I told Meg I'd be in around ten and sat alone in the living room, sulking. Even Shadow knew to avoid me.
My cell phone rang around nine- thirty.
"Hi."
I was afraid to hear his voice. I had refused to acknowledge Meg's accusations the night before, but now I felt the guilt crushing down on me. What had I done?
"Hey, Christine." His voice was warm, and it made me feel all the worse. Without the calming atmosphere of the music room, and the hypnotic effect of Erik's eyes, I felt doubt begin to creep into my decisions.
"Raoul, how are you?" I asked sincerely. My voice cracked.
"I miss you," he said cheerfully. He couldn't have known that my heart broke a little more. "I want to see you. Are you at work now?"
"No," I whispered. "I'm not going in for another half hour."
"Can I come over? Really quick, I promise."
"I don't know-" My angel saw everything. What if he saw this too? What would he think? But on the other hand, I had never pledged anything to Erik. He didn't know that I loved him…
"Aw, come on Christine, you'll get to work on time."
I laughed hollowly at his innocence. As if work were the only worry plaguing me. If live could have been so easy!
"I'd love it if you came, Raoul." I finally relented. "But hurry!"
"I'll be there!" He promised. "See you in a few!" He hung up and I stared guiltily at the wall. What was I doing, what was I doing?
Raoul graced my doorstep about ten minutes later. I let him in and led him to the kitchen. I figured I was going to be late for work anyway.
"Can I get you anything?"
He smiled. "I'm fine, thank you. I just came from a breakfast my publicist arranged with a few of my old friends from Barcelona."
I sat across from him. He looked beautiful; all happy and glowing. His tanned skin seemed to shine with a healthy hue and his green eyes were as gentle as ever. I couldn't believe that I was about to break his heart.
"Was it fun?"
"Sure," he shrugged. "It would have been better with you there." He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "Christine, there is something I have to tell you."
I looked up into his eyes. I was having a hard time deciding if I liked the feeling of my hand in his. What was wrong with me? I didn't love him, I didn't! I couldn't love him- wasn't I in love with another? Wasn't I?
Doubt had finally met her match with me.
Everything was going so fast; I needed time to sort my feelings. I did not know Erik as well as I knew Raoul, but I connected to Erik in a way that Raoul could not hope to compare. And yet… Raoul loved me. I had a good, solid relationship with him. Despite my resolve to break up last night… now that the last vestiges of the sublime feeling of the music room had left my mind, I remembered that Erik and I were not the only people in the world. I had a responsibility, as Meg had said, to others around me.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
Raoul took my other hand as well and squeezed gently.
"I have to go away for a few weeks. The tour was really sudden. I'm scheduled in Hawaii and then in Australia." He hesitated, and I felt a sudden fear. He was going away- he was leaving me? "I'd love it if you could come with me."
I blinked. He held my hands firmly and continued to look into my eyes pleadingly. It was such a beautiful thing to ask, so characteristic of his sweet nature. Oh, Raoul! If only I could be that loving partner you deserve!
I looked away from him and he cleared his throat. I was sure I had already hurt him with that miniscule movement. How could I hurt him even more, right before he was going to go away?
"I have work," I whispered, and with a vague horror I realized I was giving Raoul the same excuse I had given Erik the night before. "I have to be here, for Meg and Shadow and the company…"
He nodded sadly. "I thought you might say that. There's not even a chance, not even for a week? I could fly you back first class, it's not a problem-"
"I'm sorry, Raoul." I said softly. "I don't think it would work right now."
Raoul sighed. I could tell that he was trying to shield his sorrow from me but it wasn't working, and I found this transparency incredibly endearing. Raoul was sincere in everything he did, and I could easily see that from his expressions. With Erik… I could only hope he was sincere. His emotions were so intense and unpredictable. Yet, had he ever given me a reason to distrust him? He had seemed so utterly genuine in the music room last night…
I wished I could stop comparing them. I refocused on Raoul.
He tried to smile.
"I'll call you as often as I can. Australia is so beautiful… Christine, you would have loved it."
I swallowed tears, and I think he did, too, as he cleared his throat.
"I'll try to bring you back something-"
"Raoul, you don't have to-"
"I want to." He gave me a true smile. "It will be different without you. I wanted us to share this. But I guess you have work and everything…"
I nearly hated myself in that moment.
"Yeah," I agreed glumly. I blinked back tears. "Yeah, work and everything…"
Raoul patted my hands and let go. He reached into his pocket and drew out a small drawstring bag.
"I was hoping against hope you would say yes, but I also figured you'd say no. While I was walking along the beach this morning I saw a cute little shop and I picked this up for you…"
He pulled the strings and turned the bag over into my hands. A small, glittering ring fell into the center of my palm. I failed to stifle my gasp.
"It's not what you think," he said quickly. "I just saw it and thought of you. It is very slender and sweet, just like you. See how delicately the flowers are carved onto the sides?"
A tear dripped from the corner of my eyes. I looked up at him.
"Raoul…"
"Christine, don't cry. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to upset you-"
"No…" I ran my fingers along the sides of the ring. "You haven't upset me. I'm just dealing with so much right now, and you're going away, and…"
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I tried to push it off, but I couldn't."
"Raoul-" I burst into real sobs and I leaned my head against my hands. The cool metal of the ring pressed into my forehead. I felt so lost, so utterly confused. "Raoul, I'm going to miss you so much!" That, at least, was truth; I hadn't realized it until the words came out of my mouth. He was like my best friend. He kept me sane when all of the craziness with Erik unfolded. Raoul had been my constant, throughout all of these weeks… Was I fickle, to be thinking this way, when only last night I had been absolutely sure of my love for Erik? I was still sure of it… but I did not know if it was a safe love. What of Carla? I didn't even know if he loved me back. He had never said anything of the sort… was I just grasping at sunbeams? Maybe he was so protective of me because he had loved my father, not because he loved me… and here was my dear Raoul…
"I know, sweetie." Raoul whispered. He ran his fingers gently through my hair. "I'm going to miss you too. But please don't cry, Christine."
I breathed in deeply and lifted my head to look up at him again. He smiled and my heart broke. The good thing to do, the moral thing to do, would have been to break up with him and explain that I had fallen in love with someone else. The good and moral thing would have been to return his ring, express my heartfelt affection for him as a friend and brother, and wish him luck in finding a girl who deserved him.
Instead, I unchained my father's necklace from around my neck and looped Raoul's ring onto the string. I smiled at him, and he reached across the table to kiss me. I didn't have the heart to do it, in the end. I couldn't break up with him now, when he was going to be leaving.
We sat for a few more minutes before I realized that it was nearing eleven o'clock. I walked him to the door and he kissed me again. "I love you, Christine," he whispered as he hugged me tightly. I stifled another sob.
I kissed him gently on the cheek.
"Be safe, Raoul."
He traced my cheek with his hand and smiled. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetie. Stay beautiful."
I laughed and he leaned his forehead against mine. We stared into each other's eyes. "I love you," he said again.
My watched beeped to signal eleven and I sighed, pulling away from him.
I held his hands in mine. "Goodbye, Raoul."
"Bye." He squeezed my hand one last time and then he was gone. I slinked against the door and pressed my hands into my eyes. I refused to cry anymore.
Why had he chosen this particular day to up and leave? Of all the times he could have gone away! I couldn't deal with all of this on my own… I needed guidance! I needed… I needed my father!
I called Meg to make my excuses, and she acquiesced, adding that I had better have a good explanation for all of this.
Shadow followed at my heels as I trekked up the stairs into my room. I retrieved an old picture of my father from the drawer in the closet and held it close to me.
"Oh, Papa… I finally found the Angel of Music." I sighed even as a giggle escaped my mouth. "I wish he had worn a big blinking neon sign: Angel of Music. Maybe then all of this could have been avoided…"
I left a note for Meg when she got home, telling her that I would be out until later than night. Throwing my iPod and my cell phone in my purse, I left the house and walked down to the beach. As I kicked up the sand around me, Nat King Cole sang into my ear. I snorted as he began. It was so ironic that I should hear this song now…
Smile though your heart is aching;
Smile even though it's breaking.
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by.
If you smile through your fear and sorrow,
Smile and maybe tomorrow,
You'll see the sun come shining through for you.
Light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever so near,
That's the time you must keep on trying,
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile,
If you just smile.
There was a musical interlude and I hummed along absentmindedly, staring out onto the crashing waves. Smile… could I do it? All I wanted was to be happy. I wanted to live like normal people and be married like normal people and go out for walks on the beach with my husband like everybody else… but I wasn't normal, because of that which marred my skin and had driven Richard away. Raoul… my dearest Raoul… what would he do when he saw? I wished with all of my heart that I could trust him, but I was too cynical for idealism.
That's the time you must keep on trying,
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile.
I did smile. I couldn't tell you why. But I took his advice and smiled on the world and breathed deeply. And the world seemed to breathe an answer back to me: Erik, it said. Erik knew. He had to know about the fire, about the deformity… and he still had not rejected me, not yet…
I walked further along the beach and blocked all thoughts from my mind. The sun began to disappear under the horizon and I anticipated the moonrise. I loved the night so dearly. When the last vestiges of day had finally wisped away, I turned my back on the ocean and headed up the avenue towards my street.
Raoul phoned as I was getting into my car.
"Hey,"
"Hi. I don't have much time to talk- I'm getting onto the plane now."
"Okay. Be well." I hesitated, and then- "Call me when you get there, okay?"
"Alright," his voice warmed. "I love you, Christine." I smiled, even though my heart was aching… even thought it was breaking…
"Thanks for calling," I said softly. "Bye."
I tossed my phone into my bag and tried to pay attention to the road. All of my efforts were futile, in the end, because all roads led to one place.
I parked my car in front of the Opera House.
Erik sang scales with me for about half an hour before he smiled and asked me how I was. We spoke for a long while, about life, about the past, about the future… I let his voice wash over me like a warm breeze. I realized that I had missed his presence all day. Now that I was with him I felt more at peace, more complete. The heaven of our little music room was still intact and I was so grateful for the escape.
I tingled all over, like I had the night before. Just seeing him made my heart beat a little faster. I was hyperaware of everything I said and did. My heart was aching, but with love now and not with grief…
Erik handed me a piece of sheet music and his closeness enthralled me. I stepped towards the piano and leaned on the edge. I tried my hardest to sing the song through, but Erik stopped half way. He made some suggestions and we tried again. After stopping a few more times, Erik looked up at me.
"You sound sick, Christine, are you all right?" He was being the most solicitous he had ever been.
"I'm okay." I shrugged with a half smile. Erik wasn't buying it.
"Only okay?" He pulled me down to sit on the piano bench beside him and I recalled the events of last night… was it only last night?
"You look awfully tired." He noted. "Did you not sleep?"
I tried to answer, but I got caught up in the affectionate concern brewing in his eyes. His hands were still holding my upper arms and I felt lightheaded and dizzy.
"Christine?" He asked tenderly.
I love you, I wanted to say. I love you, I love you, I love you! Where had this conviction been this morning when I should have broken up with Raoul?
I clutched him and suddenly threw myself into his embrace. His arms came around me after a few seconds and he held me tightly.
"Mon ange, savez-vous le chemin dangereux de tentation que vous marches? Comment peux-je vous résister?"
"Erik," I whispered. His voice was soft and deep, and it tickled my senses and created a warm, honeyed sensation in my chest. I pressed my palms against his chest and felt his heart beat beneath me.
"Je vous aime," He ran one hand through my hair and my scalp tingled. I shivered against him and he pressed his cheek against mine and whispered into my ear in quick, desperate French.
"Oh Christine, pouvoir j'habite sans vous? Je vous aimerai à jamais, même quand vous me voyez qu'et me déteste..." He covered my hand, the one above his heart, with his own. "…pour c'est un cadavre qui vous aime et vous adore et la volonté jamais, ne jamais vous partir."
I wished I knew what he was saying. He sounded so passionate… was it possible that he loved me as much as I loved him? Or was I just dreaming? I closed my eyes and listened to our mingled breath. I began to hum slowly. He joined in after the first bar, and I realized that it was his Mona Lisa that had sprung to my lips. We sat on the bench, wrapped in each other's embrace, humming his song that had bound me to him, and I felt that we were one soul in two bodies, brought together by the silver thread of music…
I was Mona Lisa, and he- he was not Da Vinci. No…he was Mona Lisa's mysterious smile…
This chapter took a lot out of me. It was not difficult to write, per se, but it took a lot of effort. I wanted Christine to be real. I have to say that this was not at all my original plan for the chapter, but my Christine had other ideas, and it made a lot of sense in the end.
I do not in the slightest support or advocate cheating in relationships. I simply wanted to make the point that sometimes people don't even realize when they betray their beloved ones. Christine really just didn't see it that way… and I tried to make her actions believable, as I've said. After all, she's just human… and even though we all know that Erik is hopelessly in love with her (or at least I hope you figured that out by now and I didn't just spoil it for you) he never told her, except in French, so how can she know?
People like to be comfortable and a lot of the time they fear change. Christine had a good thing going with Raoul and she really does care about him. I think it is believable that she would act the way she did.
I felt like that needed defending. She does love Erik, as you can see, but isn't it realistic that she'd be a little nervous about all of this? Especially when he never expressed the same sentiment? I'd like to hear your opinions on what happened.
I'm really excited about this story now… we're going into the home stretch (sort of)! Do any of you feel like this chapter was really depressing? It wasn't meant to be, truly! I actually really like the way it turned out. Do you guys feel that connection between Erik and Christine? They are so perfect, so complimentary to each other…
And Smile finally found its way into the story. I had been waiting to reveal it, as the story takes its title from the lyric "even though it's breaking…" The song that Erik sang in the beginning is called Singer. Smile was written in 1936 (I think) by John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons. I can't find publishing information on Singer but know that I certainly didn't write it and if you can find this information, I'd be grateful, so I'm not stealing anything… the version that I have is by Liza Minnelli but I know that Barbara Streisand has a version as well. They are both really excellent songs and I hope you all get a chance to hear the real things.
About the French—I am guilty of using freetranslation. com because I speak not a word of French. If you do speak French and the sentences sound funky to you, that is why. He basically said that he loves her a lot. I don't really want to tell you exactly what he said because that would give it away! If you really want to know, stick it back through freetranslation (good luck) and try to figure it out… it is actually a quote from the book, if you do try to translate it.
Anyway… I'm sure I had loads more to say but I can't think of it now. I hope you guys love this chapter because you are such loyal readers and you deserve a good chapter!
Oh! And don't forget-- 'ani vata' if you review! :) Thanks!
Be well!
Lovingly,
IceCliff