Erik had been lying. He loved Christine but he loved his son more. At that moment in time he had been forced to make an awful decision. Of course he had wanted her. His son was the most important thing in his life now.

Gustave knew something was wrong. His father didn't smile as often and spent most evenings composing melancholy music. Eventually he seemed to recover. However, only his son noticed that his smile was hardly ever genuine and his laugh was always false.

As the months turned into years Erik watched his son grow up and each day Gustave seemed to look more like his mother. As Gustave's seventeenth birthday neared Erik found himself thinking about Christine more than usual. It had been five years since they had last seen each other, she would have a handsome husband by now and a few children. He still thought about what would happen if they met again.

Gustave was no longer a child, he didn't need his father's constant presence. Erik could make himself happy now. However, the only thing that would make him happy was Christine and she was gone forever.

Gustave was worried about his father. Over the last few years it had seemed like he was getting over Christine but in the past few weeks he had been upset about something. His father still loved her. The only way he could make things better would be to find his mother.

So he began his search. After a couple of weeks he realised that he had almost no idea what he was doing. He went to the only other adult he fully trusted.

"Monsieur I need your help."

"Shouldn't you ask your father if you need something?"

"My father can't know," he replied.

The two men stood in Box Four of the Opera House watching rehearsals. Andre had been surprised to see him but had been willing to listen to what he wanted to say.

"I need to find her."

"Can you clarify who you need to find?" Andre asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My mother," Gustave sighed.

"But your father has been so good to you…I don't know if I can betray him like that…" Andre trailed off.

"I have no interest in seeing her," Gustave exclaimed, "It's for him."

Andre stared at him for a while, assessing the situation.

"I'm not sure I understa-"

"He still loves her."

"I know exactly where she is."

Andre had scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and escorted Gustave to his carriage.

"Gustave, please don't get your hopes up. I have no idea what her life is like now. Don't get upset if she doesn't want to return."

"Thank you," he smiled, as the carriage pulled away.

The drive was much too short for his liking and he found himself delaying as much as possible. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she had a new family? There was a never ending list of ways this could go wrong.

For a minute he considered telling the driver to take him home. Then he came to his senses, he had to do this for his father. After all his father had done for him, he deserved a little happiness. Taking a deep breath he opened the carriage door and stepped onto the street.

The walk up the stairs to the front door of the house also went too quickly and Gustave was soon standing on the top step. Another few deep breaths later, he plucked up the courage to knock.

It seemed that he wasn't going to get an answer, then the door swung open. It was her. It was his mother. She looked almost exactly the same as she had when they had last been together.

"Good day," she smiled, "What do you want?"

She didn't recognise him. His heart sunk.

"Surely you recognise your own son."

Her face lit up as he spoke. Suddenly he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Gustave," she muttered, smiling.

She turned around and pulled him by the hand inside the house.

They were sitting in the living room of Christine's house. She was close to tears because of Gustave's appearance.

"It's fabulous to see you again," she smiled.

"Yes," he agreed, "However, I didn't come here for me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Gustave sighed and ran his finger through his hair.

"I came here for father."

Christine froze when she heard that.

"It's because-"

"What on earth could I do to help him?" she exclaimed, "He doesn't love me."

"That isn't true."

"You think so?" she almost shouted, "He seemed rather sincere when he told me."

"He's a very good actor," Gustave replied, "He's been so sad since that day. He thinks I don't notice but I do. You know why he did it? Because he thought that it was what was best for me."

She continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"He loves you and he needs you."

After a minute or so she seemed to recover enough to stand up from the chair and walk over to him.

"Will you come with me to him?" he asked.

She nodded in reply, tears streaming down her cheeks. Gustave stood up and wrapped his arms around her. They stood like that for a while, Christine crying into his shoulder and silent tears slid down his cheek.