To Those Without Pity

"All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failures to do the impossible." -William Faulkner

"Good morning."

The fortuitous words came from behind her, and she turned around to see Erik standing in the doorframe that led into the kitchen. Despite his hallowed stillness, she smiled briefly before standing and moving to the counter.

"I made some tea," she said as she poured him a cup. He hadn't moved from the doorway when she turned around, and so she made her way towards him in order to hand it off.

"It's always tea," she remarked when he said nothing, her voice holding no malice as she watched his defenses soften. Without another word, she moved back to the table and sat down once again, taking a sip of from her teacup without hesitation.

"You've already eaten?" he asked after a moment, following her to the table and seating himself across from her.

"I have," Christine replied simply as she ran a finger over the gilded rim of the cup. "Would you like something?"

"No," he replied without a moment's uncertainty. For a second they watched each other, until finally Christine could do nothing but avert her eyes. She stared down into the remnants of tea that remained at the bottom of her cup, trying to push away the discomfort inherent in being watched.

"What am I to say?" she said, utterly unable to handle the deafening silence. When he didn't respond, she forced her eyes to drift up to his. In an instant, it was clear that he understood her meaning, even as he followed her example and looked down at the table to avoid her gaze.

"It is your choice," he told her plainly. When she didn't respond after a few moments, he looked back up, his face blank. "It is not my place to force you into saying things you don't mean."

There was an unmistakably melancholic tone to his words, but she did not allow herself to read into his meaning. There was a gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach, though, something telling her to reassure him. But of what? How could she reassure him of her fealty when she wasn't quite sure of it herself?

He saw this, though, and a hint of a smile played in his eyes. It was the kind of smile that could easily bring a person to tears, though she quelled that instinct with all of her power. "You needn't say anything to brighten my spirits, Christine."

They resigned to sipping tea, only looking at one another during passing glances around the room. And all the while, they pretended they weren't waiting on edge for that doorbell ring, which did indeed come. Their eyes finally met, but Erik was the first to solemnly rise.

"Shall we?" he asked, and she stood quietly, her heart already beating at an incomprehensible speed. If he saw her shaking, he did not show it. Instead, he gave her a nod that held a distinct sense of finality, before he moved out of the kitchen towards the front door. She followed wordlessly, all the while clasping her hands in front of her in hopes of concealing her tremors.

Somehow, as Erik opened the door, something about Nadir's presence seemed the calm her, though. His kind eyes caught hers without a moment's pause, and she let out a soft sigh—this man wasn't remotely sinister. Indeed, there was something reassuring about him, and she couldn't help but to smile as their eyes met.

"Monsieur Khan," she breathed, and she saw Erik stiffen as she moved to meet them.

"Please—Nadir," he insisted as he took a few steps into the house. Erik was about to close the door behind him when Nadir held up a hand. "I was hoping your wife and I could take a walk. Unless it's too cold," he said, looking from Erik to Christine, the comforting smile still bright on his face.

Her eyes flickered to Erik, who she could see was barely restraining his desire to deny this request. He gave a small nod of assent, though, before muttering, "I will get your coat."

As he stalked away towards the hall closet, she found herself alone with Nadir, and utterly bewildered as to what she should say to him. He did not seem uncomfortable with the silence, nor did he have qualms about observing her curiously as they waited; nevertheless, it was only a few seconds before she had to look away, unable to take his scrutiny. Thankfully, Erik came back only a moment later, coat in hand.

He didn't look at Nadir as he helped her don the coat, and she could feel the uneasiness emanating from his form. Even so, they held eye contact for a few beats, all but ignoring their guest's discerning gaze.

"Have a nice walk," he said finally, his words calculated. With nothing to say, she merely nodded and turned to Nadir, who led them out onto the drive. As they made their way down the gravel path, she couldn't help turning to glance back at the door of the house, but it was firmly shut.

With a deep breath, she turned back ahead as her eyes scanned the area. She had never walked this far from the house—they had driven to the park and the church, after all. It was breathtaking, really. The trees were incomprehensibly tall, their sturdy spires towering above them protectively. The temperature had been hovering above freezing during the day, but a thin layer of snow from earlier in the morning dusted the ground.

"Did you have a nice evening?" His voice pulled her out of her reverie, and she looked at him suddenly in apparent surprise.

"Quite uneventful," she said after a moment's hesitation. Erik hadn't instructed her on how much she should tell him, although the previous night had indeed been uneventful. They had barely spoken after the departure of his guest, both making believe that the visit had never occurred, and that there would be no consequences of his call. But would she tell him of the less savory events? About the church incident, or his ever-flaring temper? Would she tell him about the dreams?

"What do you do with your time here?" The question once again caught her off-guard, and she couldn't help but feel like a child being interrogated. But then again, wasn't that precisely what she was?

"We read…" It sounded so meek, and she took a breath before she continued, hoping to garner some measure of fitful certainty. "We went to a park a while ago." Which had gone so well. "We take walks." Always within close proximity of the house. "We make music." Yes, that was the first truly genuine thing that came out of her mouth, and she even smiled at the evocative thought. "I am sometimes astounded at how much music we make." Another truth.

He didn't respond for a few moments, though he did survey her carefully. Part of her wished to ask him to stop, to tell him that she didn't like being watched. But so much more of her knew that this man meant no harm, and was there for her sake. Or so she hoped. She looked ahead deliberately, though, watching as the sun peaked out from behind the trees, causing her to squint and shield her eyes from its brightness.

"Is he kind to you?" he continued, finally looking back ahead, clearly aware of her discomfort.

Christine wasn't sure how to answer such a question. He never meant to be unkind, except perhaps with Raoul. The thought of him brought a dull pang of grief to her heart, but she had long since learned to push such thoughts back into the recesses of her soul, unable to face them fully anymore. Without having fully formed her response, she found herself already speaking, unaware of the words she was about to say.

"He affords me as much kindness as he can." The response seemed insufficient, but it was all she could muster. Nevertheless, she felt Nadir stop beside her, and she halted as well as she turned to look at him. His comforting gaze had been replaced by one of concern, and she felt her apprehension mount once again.

"Are you here by choice?" he demanded, and his directness gave her a start. All she could do for several moments was stare at him, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to organize her thoughts.

"Do you mean to take me away?" she countered, the words numb on her tongue. The very thought was absurd, but then, the very thought of her past and situation with Erik was far more than absurd. It was nonsensical, what with their marriage and faux life since the night of Don Juan. Still, the idea of leaving made her throat catch in dismay.

"Do you want to be taken away?" he pressed on, and she suddenly felt the desire to flee back to the house in order to evade the question. What she should want and what she wanted presently did not coincide, and she knew that all too well. She was meant to beg Nadir to take her away, to recount the night of Don Juan, and how Erik forced her into marriage, and how he has kept her locked up in the house since. But such words did not form in her throat.

And all at once, it came to her. She knew precisely why she couldn't say these things to Nadir. "It would kill Erik," she said slowly, as if testing the words on her tongue. They both knew it was true, and yet Nadir's hard gaze forced her to meet his eyes.

"What do you want?" he said with emblazoned force that nearly took her breath away. This was the moment where she could escape a life with Erik forever. But then, at her deepest core, she knew that such a thing was unfathomable. Acutely conscious of his eye contact and incapable of maintaining it, she looked down at the gravel with a low sigh.

"It would probably kill me, too."

He was silent then, and only watched her as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly, the sound of the wind brushing through those enormous trees was deafening, and she wished nothing more than for him to speak. If she had known the words that would come out of his mouth, though, she would have taken such a desire back.

"You know that he murdered Raoul."

Her expression was deadened in an instant, and she found herself staring dumbly at the ground as the soft wind continued to assault her ears. Finally, with painful slowness, she lifted her head and looked at him with anesthetized eyes. It was not difficult to keep his gaze, now, and she wasn't surprised when he finally had to avert his eyes from discomfort.

Without another word, they turned and began back towards the house, though she could not shake the numbness that weighed on her senses and pulled at her limbs. For wasn't that what it all came down to? That Erik had killed Raoul? And yet something inside of her was telling her to stay, even while it tore her apart knowing what he had done. And that was precisely the never-ending uncertainty that plagued her, day in and day out.

"I presume that you did not willingly marry him?" The question barely sparked her senses, but she did not turn to him to respond as they strode on.

"No," she replied after several seconds, her voice muted and dull as she stared down at the footsteps in the snow that they had made.

"You will forgive me for asking," he began, clearly observant of her resounding hopelessness. "But did he ever violate you in any way?" The question was the epitome of hesitation, but she knew why he had asked, why he had to ask.

She considered it for a moment, and she could sense his increasing alarm as each second passed by in silence.

"No," she repeated, and from her peripheries, she saw him visibly relax. And with that, they refrained from speech until they made it to the front door, where he stopped her.

"Would you allow me to come and see you periodically?" he asked tentatively, yet with exquisite tact. She could see that he was concerned about what her answer might be—that he may have crossed some irrevocable line and lost her trust. In order to reassure him, though, she let a tired smile come to her lips before she responded.

"I would love that."

When we entered the house, Erik was nowhere to be found. In fact, it wasn't until Christine had silently retreated into some unknown corner of her home, leaving me alone in the front hall, when Erik met me. Immediately, I could feel him eyeing me suspiciously as he scanned the front hall.

"Where is Christine?" he said in a deadly low tone as he approached me threateningly. I only held up my hands defensively, though, as I shook my head.

"She's in the house." At this, Erik seemed satisfied, though he did not stop as he moved to open the door. I only stared at him expectantly, but when Erik said nothing, I willingly prompted him. "Do you want to know what she said?"

"I fear you will tell me, regardless of what I want," Erik replied unenthusiastically, making no attempt to hide his weariness. Yes, it was clear he wanted me out of his home, but I had to linger for a few seconds longer.

"She won't leave," I remarked easily, though there was the barest hint of caution in my words.

He didn't seem surprised at this, and even pursed his lips disdainfully. "And I'm confident that you begged her to, insisting that I was some deranged maniac," Erik respond dryly, his hand clenching the doorknob with impatience.

"Erik, don't pretend that your actions have been honorable," I contended with goaded adamancy, but he merely scoffed.

"When has honor ever bothered me?" Erik bit back, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly behind his mask. "All that matters is that she will stay." I could read his thinly veiled attempt at nonchalance and even more so, his underlying relief.

Knowing that my welcome was quickly waning, I continued on. "She's given me permission to come visit," I said resolutely, studying him closely for his reaction. He hid it cleverly, though, and spat a retort back at me.

"And why would you do that?" His defenses had risen and his muscles had tensed, but I pushed forward nonetheless.

"I won't leave you alone until I'm sure beyond a doubt that this is her choice," I reasoned, though I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth before Erik had begun to speak heatedly, a warning flashing across his eyes.

"She told you it was," he argued, and I could just barely read the questioning look in his eyes. Why must you continue threatening to ruin me? he seemed to say. Why can't you leave me to my twisted happiness?

"Reasonable doubt, my friend."

There were a lot of questions of what Christine would say, and I hope I lived up to expectations! I cannot express enough thanks for every review—I think of you all when I write, and I truly look forward to each of your thoughts. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!

Until next time,

Christine