Hi!
I love you all, my dearest readers. Thanks for reading and a special thanks for those who review. I do a lot of writing, both fanfiction and normal fiction (like fictionpress) and sometimes it is so scary to post it online where anyone can read it… because writing comes from inside and what do you do if people reject your writing? It's a terrible blow, one that I've experienced before. And since writing is so important to me, the fact that you guys really seem to enjoy this story is such an uplifting thing. You inspire me! Thanks! :)
So, since you are all so lovely, I must be a better authoress and update more frequently. Trust me- I know exactly what I want to happen. Sometimes it's just hard to get it down on paper. But- I am recording the date that I began this (10/27/08). If I don't update until next year sometime, then it will just be embarrassing for me to post this and have you guys all realize how long it takes me to write! So hopefully this will motivate me to get this up sooner.
Anyway… on to the replies:
Sketchy88: Ani v'ata! (It actually means 'you and I' in an eastern language, if you were wondering. It's the beginning of this really cute song…) Thanks for putting that in there. :) I'm glad you enjoy the story, truly. And it's funny- after I read your review I went back and thought about that line. When I wrote it, it made sense, but now I'm having a hard time remembering what my exact intention was when I wrote it. I therefore hope you interpreted it for yourself! Happy reading!
Terbear: I'm so happy to see that you are still with this story! I've always appreciated your reviews. I will try to keep your suggestion in mind. You'll notice that chapter 12 with the huge "Erik!" cliffhanger had no ending author's note. I thought it would kill the suspenseful mood. Thanks! Ha… I love this! Yes, good- I want you to be curious about that big something he couldn't tell her… and what a big something it is… :) Happy reading! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!
Captain Ichabod Rainey: Thank you so much for your reviews! They are so encouraging. :)
As usual, I'm sure there is a bunch of stuff I wanted to tell you that I can't remember. If any of you picked up on the slight discrepancy about Christine having taken French through high school and then her not understanding Erik's French, well… lots of people take languages in high school but end up not really understanding them. I say that this is one of those cases. Another thing—the formatting is weird in this story. It looks much more normal on Word. If it bothers you, I'm sorry. I'll try to format better when I post this chapter. And I'll have to do some editing on Chapter 13. Anyway…
I'll leave you with my usual warning: INFER! The italicized parts are so important… this one and the last one correspond. I went through the entire story today to try and make sure everything fits together. I want to avoid plot discrepancies and tie up the loose ends… that may be difficult, especially as I continue to add more to the pile!
~*~I'd like to specially thank LittleLottexoxEriksTrueAngel--- for including my story in her community, Christine's Favories:Best Phantom Stories Mainly EC ~*~*
-Please read the author's note and the bottom if you thoroughly disliked this chapter and please tell me why in a review, if you chose to review-
"No! No!" The man- hardly a man, really, but a young one having the weight of the world thrust upon him- ripped a strand of fabric from his already torn shirt and tried to wrap it around the older man's wounds. He dared not touch the knife. He knew that it would be better to leave it there until the ambulance came.
"No! No, please-" The young one pressed down on the bleeding injury and grasped the older man's hand. They met each other's eyes.
"Erik," the older man sighed. His voice was fading.
Erik was startled into tears. "Don't leave, sir," he whispered. "Please, don't leave…"
"I never thought I'd see you cry for me, Erik. I thought you were done with love, after your mother."
"My mother, sir?" In the current situation, Erik did not have time to bristle. The truth came stumbling out. "I loved her, yes, because I was a little boy and she was all I had. But she hated me and you… you…"
The older man took a rasping breath and clutched Erik's hand.
"I won't survive the night," he said at last.
Erik choked on a sob. "You will, you will! You must! I'll call 9-1-1." He leapt up to reach for the phone. The older man took hold of Erik's sleeve and pulled him down close.
"No, Erik. It is no use."
Tears blurred Erik's vision and he blinked them back quickly, afraid to lose the image of his surrogate father. The saltwater drops trickled over his eyelids and slid down his cheeks. Erik laid his forehead against the older man's chest. There was a plunging, sickening feeling developing within him. He could not face this loss.
"Please don't die," he pleaded. "You are all I have in the world, sir…"
The older man spread one weakening arm over Erik's shoulders. He wanted to sit up and hug the boy properly, but he could not find the strength. He knew that his time was waning away.
"Erik, I need you to be strong now."
The young man continued to weep.
"Erik, my dear boy… I love you. If you were my own son I couldn't love you more."
At this, the young man's tears turned into tormented cries from deep within his chest. He had never been loved before, and now, when he had finally found it, it was leaving him.
"Sir- Mr. Daae- Papá-" Erik morphed into French.
"Shh now, Erik." The older man could only whisper. He was in great pain. "Didn't we suspect something like this to happen? I-"
"But not like this!" Erik snapped his head up to look the older man in the eye. "Not now!"
"There is nothing that can be done."
"There is always a way- I can make anything happen, if I really want to-"
"This isn't a magic trick, Erik," the man whispered tenderly. "I need you to listen to me, now."
Erik swallowed his sobs and tried to focus on the older man's words, as they were very faint.
Mr. Daae closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"I need you to promise me something, Erik."
"Anything." The young man knew that it was coming to an end. He could feel death –hadn't they always been close?- inching its way forward to once again intrude into his life. All he had left now was to be sincere with this man whom he had loved so much.
"Protect Christine. Don't let them find her. Promise me that you will watch over her."
"I promise."
"Be an angel to her. You are already her Angel of Music, even if she doesn't know it yet. I'm afraid for her once I'm gone. She's never really been out in the world alone. Make sure she doesn't fall into anything unsafe or unseemly…"
"I promise I will."
"She'll understand you, Erik, even when no one else will give you a chance. She'll be your guiding light…"
Erik couldn't hold back his tears any longer.
"Don't let them find her," the older man repeated.
"I won't."
"Don't cry for me, Erik."
"I must," the younger man countered quietly.
Mr. Daae took hold of his hand. "Do you have the tickets?" He asked finally.
Erik frowned slightly. "I do still have them. But Sir…"
"Get me a piece of paper – quickly, now- and I will write her a letter explaining everything."
"But… you want me to take her with me?"
"Yes, if that is the safest thing for her."
"What if it's not?"
"If she is with you, Erik, she will be safe. I will write her that letter…"
The young one went to retrieve the requested paper, and he hesitated before handing it to the older man. Decision was before him, a ruthless, unforgiving mistress. He did not want to disobey Sir's last wishes, but he had said 'if' had he not?
Erik had decided, a long while ago, that he could not take her with him. But what if it was the safest thing? Could he really be away from her? Would he not simply melt into nonexistence? He loved her so desperately. How could he break a promise to Sir? And yet… he couldn't bear her rejection.
The older man finished the letter quickly and set it on the table.
"Sir, you will not die." Erik said with decision. It was easier to make that decision instead.
The older man laughed softly. "You have always delighted me, Erik… play me something."
"What?"
"Play me something… my new violin is over there, do you see?"
Erik took the instrument in hand and lifted it onto his shoulder.
"Will you forgive me if I do not take her with me?"
The older man looked at him directly.
"I know why you ask that- Erik, I tell you she will understand. You will be so happy together. Don't underestimate my daughter."
"But- will you forgive me?"
The older man sighed. "Play me something beautiful, Erik…"
Death came soon after, quiet, unassuming, and quite unaware of the devastation he had caused to his kin, Erik, and to Christine, whose fate now hung suspended between a request and an unforgiven plea.
Eventually I went to work. A few days after Raoul left I began to feel slightly more able to deal with the world. Things began to calm down. Raoul called me at least once a day, and Erik and I had our usual nightly music lessons. Construction was well underway for Erik's masterpiece. I split my time between the construction site and my office.
Meg and I finally squared things away, too. The night after Raoul left she insisted on taking me out for dinner. She demanded an update.
We walked to a cute little restaurant a few blocks down from the house and opted to sit at an outdoor table on the balcony that overlooked the ocean. At night, with the moon blazing down at the rolling waves, and the endless stretch of inky black water capped with white foam meeting the dark horizon, the view was spectacular. At dinner, Meg and I talked of mostly normal things. I knew she had been informally seeing a guy named Nathan, and I pressed her for more details. She smiled slyly, and I wished for a minute that I could tell such a story of normalcy. No angels and no murders and no deformities…
Meg asked me about the progress with Mr. Silver's house. The foundations had only begun to be laid, because Erik had insisted on changing the head supervisor at least three times. He wanted perfection, and I suspected that even with this new guy in charge, Erik would be doing most of the real supervising. I was excited to see the house go up. It would be a magnificent feat of architecture.
After we paid the check, Meg suggested a walk along the ocean. I fell into step behind her, and we walked for several blocks in silence.
"Something's different about you, Chrissie," she said finally.
I glanced at her sideways, trying to read her expression.
"Something? Like what?" Truly, I felt different.
"I can't put my finger on it. But ever since you met that man, that Erik…"
I shivered at the mention of his name and imagined that I saw his golden eyes above me, engraved in the face of the moon.
"I don't know," she continued thoughtfully. "It seems like you are less cynical than you used to be. Less angry and more receptive. Of course," she added as an afterthought, "that was around the same time you met Raoul, too. I think Raoul's done wonders for you, Christine. I've never seen you so happy before."
It wasn't just that I was less cynical, although I had sensed that particular change. Meg had missed the fact that there was no going back for me. The angel had moved me permanently. He could not be apart from my life anymore. And this, by necessity, made me happier, and more receptive to feelings of love, feelings that I had previously spurned. But I also felt the certain degree of remoteness that I had always employed beginning to expand. I kept Meg in the dark about a lot of things, like Erik's apparent visit to Iran, and how I found it inconsistent with all of his other actions; Nadir's warnings about Erik's nature; the beautiful Carla and her brazenness with Erik; my conflicting feelings for Raoul; and my inability to break the truth to him.
She thought that Raoul had wrought these changes, but she was only partially correct. Erik had opened me up when he coaxed me back into my music. Raoul had tapped into that latent yearning for belonging that Erik had brought to the surface and then embellished it by teaching me how to smile and laugh sincerely.
Meg mused over her relationship with Nathan.
"I think it may be too soon after my breakup with Randy…" she sighed, and then she perked up and looked at me sharply. "Speaking of break-ups, Chrissie, I'm glad that Raoul didn't break up with you. You are so clearly meant for each other."
"Break up with me?" I asked, surprised. We stopped at a darkened vista beside a sandy alcove. I trained my eyes on her face and could only see distorting shadows play across her cheeks. "Why would he break up with me?"
She lifted an eyebrow and spoke slowly and deliberately. "When you told him about Erik, he must have been upset. I'm glad he's a good enough guy to overlook it."
"Oh." I nodded quickly. "Yeah. He took it kind of hard at first, but I apologized profusely and he… he forgave me."
"That's good." Meg seemed to have bought it. I don't know why or when she ever began to trust me, but clearly it was a bad idea. "I'm proud of you for telling him. It couldn't have been easy."
"No…" I watched the pavement below me and shoved at a few grains of sand with my shoe.
Meg put a comforting hand on my shoulder, one that did anything but console me.
"You're over this… infatuation, right? I mean, Raoul is such a great guy… it wouldn't be fair if you weren't loyal."
"I know," I whispered softly. And how I knew… I felt tears coming on and I silently willed her to stop talking.
"I know you think you loved him," she said, "but I didn't believe you then and I'm glad you don't feel that way now. I mean, after what you've told me, it doesn't even sound like he loved you back. It's no good chasing after a guy like that. Raoul is a better choice for you."
I nodded absentmindedly. He doesn't love you back… it didn't even sound like he loved me back…
"How is your mother, Meg?" I asked suddenly. We continued walking, and with her cheerful chattering in the background, I tried to bury my sorrow. Did he love me? Could he love me, when he knew? But what about Carla? I hated to remember her and she always popped into my mind. Beautiful, dark- skinned, alluring Carla… I missed Erik suddenly, and I wondered if he would be in the music room if I chanced by there now. It seemed impossible, but then again, he was my angel.
It was while I was on this train of thought that my cell phone rang, and I picked it up, prepared to hear Raoul's voice.
"Hello?"
"How are you, my dear?"
I stopped abruptly and Meg kept walking and talking for a few spaces before glancing behind her in bemused surprise.
"Christine?" She asked, but I made a gesture towards the phone, and she frowned and turned away from me, hoisting herself to sit on top of the piled rocks along the sidewalk.
It gave me time to collect myself before speaking to him, anyway.
"I'm good," I answered quietly, listening to the static on the other side of the phone and imaging where he was right now, what he was doing.
"Excellent."
I breathed in slowly. His voice was striking in the darkness, like a sudden bolt of lightening across a black sky.
"Christine?"
"Yes."
"You sound breathless, are you all right?"
"Oh- yes… yes, thank you, Erik."
"Are you at home right now?"
"No, Meg and I took a walk… why?"
He was silent for a second. "I was going to offer that we… well, if you are busy, there is no need-"
"No, no, go on! What were you saying?"
"You asked me if we could take a walk by Forest Hill Park and I thought… tonight is such a lovely night. I wanted to offer that we take a walk along the lake's perimeter… unless you are averse to the idea."
He was… ranting? Maybe I couldn't call it that, precisely, but Erik had always been so concise with his words, the commanding master of brevity. Now he sounded uncharacteristically nervous, second-guessing himself.
"That would be charming, Erik." I breathed, a smile breaking out across my face. I would see him again!
"Do you think so? What delights you delights me, Christine. I shall pick you up by your house."
"Oh! Thank you," I suppressed a giggle, the source of which I could not identify.
"May I estimate ten minutes?"
I glanced around the area and quickly calculated the distance.
"That sounds perfect." I agreed.
"Yes…" There was silence on the other line. "I… I am very happy. I shall see you shortly. Goodbye, my dear."
"Bye…" I flipped my phone closed and breathed in the suddenly sweet night air, reveling in the delicious excitement that filled my chest.
Meg looked at me expectantly and I smiled at her.
"Who was that?" She asked when I caught up with her. She had been just far enough away to not overhear the conversation.
I hesitated. After all of her barbs against my relationship with Erik, I did not think it wise to tell her the truth.
I was quickly turning into a chronic liar, and I knew it would all turn out badly.
Despite that, I grinned at her and said with a voice thick with exuberance, "It was Raoul. He calls me often."
"That's so sweet. And it's made you so happy! Oh, Chrissie, I am so glad for the both of you. That you found each other is a blessing, truly."
I wasn't listening to her, so wrapped up was I in the thought of seeing Erik again. Did I look presentable? How romantic it would be, being alone with him by the lake's edge, on a gorgeous night like this. Would he sing for me?
I rather think I should have listened to her, because I may have caught the warning signs in her words and her actions. Really hearing what she had said could have saved me so much pain.
I guided Meg home and we entered the house in record time.
"I'm kind of tired," she announced. "I think I'm going to hit the sack and maybe I'll get in early tomorrow."
She pulled a glass of water from the fridge and nudged Shadow with her foot when he barked.
"When do you think you'll be in?"
"I'm scheduled to be at the trailer tomorrow, remember?"
"Oh yeah, Wednesday. Right." She smiled and downed the water. "Well, are you turning in?"
"No…" I slurred, "I think I'll go back out for a bit. You know, just to enjoy the night."
"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked uncertainly. "I hate leaving you all alone."
"Don't worry, Meg. Get some sleep."
I smiled and she smiled back.
"Thanks, Chrissie."
I watched her ascend the staircase and felt that now was the perfect time for me to tell her how much I loved her and appreciated her as my best friend.
But I kept silent and instead made my way outside to meet the other person in my life whom I loved too much to tell, for fear of rejection.
Erik was prompt. I had walked a few blocks down from the house, in case Meg was watching from the window, and Erik's black car was only two lone headlights slowing down at the curb beside me.
He rolled down his window and I stared inside, trying to get a glimpse of him.
"What are you doing out here?"
I smiled at the sound of his voice.
"Waiting for you," I shrugged. I heard a click and watched as the passenger door magically opened before me. In the car's dim light I could see his hand extended out towards me.
"Please, step in."
I ducked into the front seat and closed the door behind me. He slowly accelerated and I felt the giddiness of being so close to him, so secluded with him.
He clear his throat a few times, and as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, I was certain he was going to say something to me. But each time he seemed to think better of it and he redirected his attention to the road.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say; I missed you… I love you… Angel, will you sing for me? You are so breathtaking…
The car was smooth as cream and I could only hear our gentle breathing and the occasional strong whip of the wind against the windshield. I shivered with content. I wanted to be close to him always.
It was times like this that I forgot Carla, and all other things that affected our relationship. I didn't want to think about them, so for those precious moments with him, they simply did not exist.
He gently turned into a deserted parking lot and I unbuckled my seat belt.
"Is this it?"
"Yes, my dear." He whispered. I blinked and shook my head to clear it of the fogginess that his voice induced.
Erik unlocked my door and I stepped out into the cool night air.
"It's so beautiful," I observed, spreading my arms out to the sky. "Erik, have you ever seen such a stunning sky?"
He didn't reply, and I glanced back to find him watching me intently. I felt myself grow weaker as he approached me slowly, gazing at me with those golden eyes.
"I have seen skies blazing red and burning amber in the sulky heat of the Persian Gulf. I have watched the stars slowly disappear in the approaching dawn of the English countryside. But never have I seen a sky more magnificent than the one I saw every night in New Hampshire."
My heart thudded painfully once at the unexpected reminder of my father and my loss, and I looked up at him.
"I used to go up onto the roof at night and compose under the Milky Way." He sighed, and stared out into the dark forest. "Your father would laugh at me when he found me asleep on the roof the next morning."
I swallowed tears at the mention of my father and instead focused on the bright intensity of his eyes, a memory swirling in the back of my mind.
"I always used to hear footsteps above me at night. Papa told me I was crazy."
"Did you hear them?" He asked, smiling lightly. "I tried to be as quiet as possible. You always had immaculate hearing."
I shook my head. "They weren't your footsteps. They were Papa's. I could distinguish his footsteps from anyone else's because they were heavy and quick in succession. If I had heard you, I would have been frightened by the idea of a stranger on the roof. Instead, I often accused Papa of hiking on the roof."
"What on earth would he do on the roof, Christine?"
"I don't know," I smiled, "I used to tell him that he must fly up to the moon every night and bring down the music from the angel." He was blurred, in all of his beauty, by the mist in my eyes. "I didn't think an angel could come down to earth… Obviously I was wrong."
Erik gave me a sharp look before he noticed the grief that I had tried to hide. He twisted my shoulders and titled my head back, so that I was gazing directly at the moon. Then I felt his arms wrap around me from behind as he pulled my body against his.
I felt his voice beside me, and it tickled my hair against my cheek. He stroked a few strands of hair away from my ear and took my right hand is his and pointed up towards the moon.
"Do you see the moon there, shining so brightly?" He whispered. I nodded, and he tightened his grip around my middle, nestling his face closer into my neck. "Your father is up there, playing his violin to serenade the stars, watching over you always…"
"What does he play?" I felt like a child, but I sensed that he was willing to comfort me in any way necessary, and I therefore felt content in reverting to the inner child that still clung to the memory of my father. He seemed to know that I needed hope, and not rationality, to help me cope.
"He plays Tubas in the Moonlight. Do you know it?" I shook my head and he lowered my arm and fully embraced me from behind.
He began to hum, and I could hear the vibrations from through his chest. "Through the twilight, I can hear the humming of a melancholy coon. For the memories that still linger, I thank you mister Moon . . . Tubas in the moonlight, playing for me all night . . . Stars above me, shining brightly. Why can't I be sitting there beside her?Tubas in the moonlight will bring my loved one home . . ."
Erik ran his fingers again through the curls behind my ear and tilted my chin so my head lay back against him as he held my face between his hands.
"Although if I were up there, Christine, and I had the providence to gaze upon you, I would sing something different…"
"What would you sing?"
"Moonlight becomes you- it goes with your hair." He hummed a soft interlude and I closed my eyes. He gently rocked me in his embrace in time with music. "I'm thrilled at the sight . . . moonlight becomes you so."
I sighed very softly and he released me, although he remained in very close proximity to me.
"1942. Written by Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Burke."
"You mean you didn't write it?" I asked dazedly, staring up at the sky and listening to his voice.
He laughed, and trills traveled the length of my body.
"I don't compose every song in the world, Christine. I have to let the rest of them do something."
"Would that you did compose every song… the world could be such a musical place!"
"I doubt people would appreciate it enough. They never do." Erik placed himself before me and offered his hand.
"Would you like to take a walk? The lake is just beyond that turn."
"I'd be delighted." I took his hand and he led me along the starlit path.
"I wish I could pull songs out of the top of my head like you do," I said wistfully.
"It's a great talent, my dear, only given to those chosen few."
"Erik!" I gave him a sharp look and he smiled, squeezing my hand.
"I've lived in music for so long, Christine, that it just comes naturally. Hopefully one day you too will know enough music to be able to live in it, so that words themselves are not sufficient to express that which is deeply felt, but rather only through music can you connect with the world."
We walked on in silence and I contemplated the two of us. There was a comfortable, lovely feeling lodged within me, and paired with the tingling I felt in my hand where he touched me, I couldn't help but palpably feel my love for him in every step; it was a wonder it did not come off me in waves that he could sense. I thought about what we had spoken about. He was the only one I really allowed to speak about my father. I would tolerate such conversation from no one else. Only Erik could comfort me…
"Erik?"
"Yes?" He murmured. My heart skipped a beat.
"Tell me, when did you go to England?"
He turned his golden gaze on me and I felt a sudden tensing of his muscles.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…" I ripped my eyes away from his and stared into the blackness. "You said…" My throat had suddenly dried, and I had to swallow to moisten it. "You said you had seen English sunrises. Did you accompany my father and me when we went to England that summer?"
"No. I went… separately."
"Oh." I fumbled around for something to say. I sensed that I had hit a nerve, although I couldn't say why. "Was that the same trip as when you went to Iran?"
Erik cleared his throat. "You are very inquisitive tonight."
I shrugged. There was a catch in his voice, but I missed its significance completely.
"I love England."
"I know you do," he sighed. I was surprisingly distressed at the sound, that anything I did would cause him discomfort, and I held his hand within both of mine.
"Did you like England?" I gazed at the side of his face that was visible to me in the sparse light. As we moved under the trees, he began to fade in and out of the shadows.
"It wasn't a matter of liking or disliking… I-I'd prefer not to speak of it."
"Alright." I said, a little uneasy. He stared straight ahead, and I could see that he was still tense, closing me off. What was it about his past that was so troubling to him? Especially when he knew so much about me…
We reached the lake and I laughed, letting go of his hand.
"Erik, it's so beautiful! It reminds me of the Moonlight Sonata."
"Does it?" He asked. I turned back to look at him. He was enshrouded by darkness, leaning up against a tall oak tree. My breath caught within me at his otherworldly appearance. "That is your favorite song, is it not?"
"It is… I can hear it when I look at this lake."
"Do you hear it, Christine?" He sounded eager now, like a little child, and he came to stand beside me. His eyes were bright as they stared into mine. He pointed one hand out into the distance and I followed his gaze. "That lake there," he whispered, a strange, intense emotion lining his words, "and those dark trees… the crickets in the grass and the wind in the leaves… do you hear the animals breathe? Do you hear the rustling of fur, the waltz of the flowers?"
"I hear it, Erik."
"That is the most sublime sound in the world… do you hear the click of imagination? Silently the senses abandon their defenses… Do you hear it secretly posses the world? Hard as lightening, soft as candlelight… Do you hear the music of the night?"
I nodded breathlessly.
"Oh, close your eyes, Christine…" I obeyed, and I gasped as I felt his hands along my arms, giving me chills.
"Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…"
I breathed in deeply and unclosed my eyes to behold him, standing there framed in the moonlight like a true angel of music.
Erik gazed at me, his eyes tracing all of the features of my face and finally probing the depths of my eyes. The gold was unreadable, like a pure piece of solid metal. He removed his hands from me slowly, and I eventually looked away from him, feeling as though I had been awoken from a trance.
I walked towards the bank of the lake and sat down in the dark gray grass. I was quickly coming to love the nighttime as I had not loved it before… I sat and tried to hear the music of the night.
Erik sat down a few feet from me and stared into the murky face of the waters.
I wished he wasn't so much of an enigma. Even after all he had done for me… what did I really know about him? I had no idea what was going on inside of his head right now, whether he regretted this excursion or not, how he felt about me…
"Erik?"
He pushed a small stick into the water and observed as it sent black ripples across the lake. Then he looked up at me receptively.
"Where did you live in New Hampshire?"
Erik blinked, surprised. "I thought you knew," he said. "I lived with you."
"With-us?" I stared at him, and he shrugged elegantly, as if in positive response. How could I have missed that? "What about your parents? Didn't you say you came to America with your mother…?"
Erik sighed. He lied down across the grass and stared straight up at the moon. I wondered if I had hit another nerve.
"You'll also remember that I told you she was ill. I had already met your father by the time she died… and that's when he offered me lodging within your home."
"But… how old were you?"
"Not older than twelve, I think, although I can't be sure."
"Can't be sure?" I echoed. "What do you mean, don't you-"
"Some things," he cut me off firmly, "are better left unasked, my dear."
I blinked away my confusion and tried for another direction.
"Did you have schooling?"
"Your father home-schooled me, such as it was." The answers sounded incredibly forced, but I continued anyway. What was there that was so horrible that he did not want to tell me of the time he spent in my house?
"Really?" A small smile came unwittingly to my face. I had never imagined my father as a schoolteacher. "How old was I when you came to live with us?"
"You were nearing your sixth birthday."
I sighed, and copied his movements to lower myself down onto the ground.
"Where did you live? I mean… where did you spend most of your time?"
"When you were not home, I went into the music room… that's how I learned your schedule so well. I couldn't chance that you would come and accidentally find me. At other times, or when I was not involved with music, I stayed within the walls, so to speak. Your house was very old, and it had many unused rooms, which you probably never saw or thought about. I used those old hallways and spacey walls extensively."
"Is that why you are so good at stealth?"
"I don't know what you mean, my dear." He sounded a little relieved that I had stopped my questioning for the moment.
"Sometimes you are halfway across the room and the next minute you are right next to me, and I never heard you approach."
"Oh, yes… I have developed many such skills, probably out of necessity than anything else."
"So it was to keep me uninformed of you?"
"…or something like that." He said hesitatingly. "There were other people to whom I did not wish to… alert my presence."
I sensed that this was another issue that I should not probe. I fell silent and the pair of us laid next to each other, staring upwards into the heavens. My gaze traced the path of the stars, the tops of the darkened trees, and then the gleaming black waters of the lake. I began to chuckle.
"What is so funny?" He asked, amused. I could hear the beautiful smile on his lips.
"We came here to walk around the lake… and look! Here we are not even looking at it!"
Erik jumped up immediately, holding out his hand to me. From my vantage point on the ground he looked like a giant with bright golden eyes.
"S'il vous plaît, mademoiselle."
I took his hand gratefully and he pulled me up with surprising strength. I leaned on him, not relinquishing his hand, and began to tread along the circumference of the lake.
"How many languages do you speak?" I asked lightly.
"Three, fluently."
"Let's see- English, French and Farsi, right?"
He pressed his lips together. I wasn't going for that- I would get this answer out of him.
"Well, you do speak Farsi, don't you?" I pushed, "You can't deny it; I've heard you myself."
Erik sighed. "Yes, alright, yes. I speak Farsi," he said firmly.
I smiled, triumphant. We rounded a sharper corner and I wondered absentmindedly if there were fish in this lake.
"Do you think in French?"
"No, I think in English, most of the time…"
"But you've spoken French to me."
"I have."
"Well… why?" I looked up at the side of his face and saw that he was battling something. There had been a current running through his voice, an edge of emotion that I couldn't identify. What was he thinking? What was it that he didn't want to tell me?
"Sometimes," he began, whispering and halting, "sometimes I… perhaps I shouldn't say…"
"Oh, Erik, you can tell me anything." We stopped and I grasped both of his hands in mine, smiling into his now uncertain eyes. "I promise-"
The words seemed to do the trick, and he gave me a soft half smile that nearly melted my heart.
"Sometimes, if I feel… very much… I will return to French, as it was my native language. I find it more expressive than English, and most of my original compositions are written in French… I translated them for you and your father."
It was an opening insight into his soul, his heretofore unknown and endearing personality, and it made him seem more human and so much more alive. If it was possible, my feelings for him became even sweeter, even more tender.
"That's beautiful, Erik…"
He squeezed my hand for a moment, staring back at me with unfathomable eyes.
"Non, vous êtes beau." He smiled and I laughed, wondering what strong emotion he was now feeling.
"You won't tell me what you said, will you?"
"Not a chance."
We made a full round of the lake before I yawned, and Erik began to lead me down our former path, towards the car. I pleaded with him to stay a little longer, and he patted my hand and told me it was late; I should be getting to sleep. He did not want me to be tired at our lesson the next night.
I admit I was extraordinarily sleepy, but I didn't want the magical night to end. He was so beautiful, and I was so much in love…
As we drove, I felt my eyes droop, and eventually my head was resting against his shoulder. I didn't say anything, hoping that he wouldn't protest, and when he didn't, I surrendered myself to sleep.
I awoke to a gentle prodding against my shoulder. Erik was gazing at me from above, smiling softly.
"Christine, you are home. Would you like me to see you in?"
"Oh…" I blinked a few times and tried to adjust myself to being awake. I was surprised at how weak I really felt. Why hadn't I been getting any sleep lately? It was the anguish, the stress, the anxiety of these past few weeks…
"Christine?"
I snapped my eyes back to him. "Oh, thank you. But I think I'm okay by myself."
We faced goodbye, and I didn't know what to say. I couldn't express my feelings adequately.
He unlocked my door and watched me closely as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I turned to look at him as I opened my door, and was irresistibly drawn back to him. I laid my hand over his that lay on the steering wheel.
"Thank you Erik," I said sincerely, searching his eyes. What was he feeling? Was he feeling love, like I was? "Thank you for a lovely, incredible evening."
He nodded, his eyes shadowed. "You are always welcome Christine. Please- have sweet dreams, and be well. I shall see you tomorrow morning."
I smiled weakly and then removed myself from his car, feeling like I had left a part of myself behind as I shut the door.
Meg was up bright and early the next morning, and she woke me at a quarter to eight by knocking loudly on my door.
"Chrissie! I have coffee!" I heard her bound down the stairs and I groaned, throwing a hand over my forehead. I was still so tired! I wanted to sleep for another week.
Instead I threw the covers off and took a quick, hot shower. I toweled off and grabbed my brush from the bathroom counter. Walking towards my closet, I brushed my hair out with practiced strokes, and quickly picked out an appropriate outfit for being on the site all morning. Then I organized my hair into a thick braid.
Meg called for me again and I sighed, bottling my unfounded irritation and slipped a pair of comfortable flats on. I grabbed my bag and then made my way downstairs.
"'Morning!" She grinned at my bleary eyes and handed me a steaming cup.
"Thanks," I said, sipping the creamy black liquid. It felt like honey going down my throat and I smiled, feeling suddenly more alert. "That really hits the spot!"
"It's my fantastic brewing skills." Meg announced. I snorted, picking up the bag of Insta-Coffee that lay on the table. She grabbed it from me and quickly stuffed it in the garbage, giving me a smirk and small wink.
"You know you love my brewing, Chrissie. You couldn't do without it."
"Of course not."
Meg mock glared at me for a second before standing up and smiling. "I'm going to the office. Will you be in touch?"
"Sure. If any calls come for me, put them to my cell phone. I don't know how reliable that trailer phone is going to be, with all the calls coming from the house."
"Okay, will do." She surveyed me for a second, and I was suddenly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. I fixed my gaze on the table and stirred my coffee more than necessary. "Are you okay, Chrissie?"
"Yeah, of course." I hoped I hadn't answered too fast. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She laid a hand on my shoulder. "I just meant- with Raoul gone and everything, are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah… yeah, I'm okay." I smiled up at her, and she patted my shoulder.
"Good. I'll see you later, then."
Meg left and I went to check on Shadow, who was still sleeping soundly. I refilled his feeder and then sat watching him for a few minutes. Meg seemed to think that my life revolved around Raoul. Granted, I probably should have been more focused on him, especially since I was still dating him, but she accorded everything to him! I wanted to set her straight but I couldn't, because I knew how strongly she felt against Erik, and I knew that she could be headstrong sometimes. I couldn't be sure that she would not call Raoul and tell him the whole truth. I wasn't ready for that yet, especially not over the phone. I would tell Raoul when he returned.
Now I had to get to work before I was ridiculously late.
I pulled into the parking lot in time to see Nadir stepping out of his car. I smiled, feeling especially warm towards him. I felt like he had given me his blessing to be close to Erik when he allowed me to find him that day.
"Nadir!" I quickly exited my car and jogged up to walk beside him.
He smiled gently at me and nodded a greeting. "How are you today, Christine?"
"Excellent!" I truly did feel excellent, now. I was among friends, and I was going to see Erik!
"Good, good. You haven't been over here since last Monday. Everything is progressing nicely."
"Marvelous. I'm very excited about this."
We walked towards the trailer and he stopped a few feet before the entrance.
"What is it?"
Nadir turned to face me and I could see foreboding in his deep eyes. I swallowed a sudden unknown fear and took a deep breath to calm myself down.
"Nadir?" I asked, a little shakily.
He sighed grimly and broke eye contact, staring down at the ground.
"I wish things could have been different." He said haltingly. I didn't understand, and it frightened me terribly. "I wish to apologize to you… none of it was your fault, Christine. Just, try to accept that… it wasn't his fault either."
"What?" His- he must have been referring to Erik. Nadir shook his head and began to ascend the stairs, and I lunged after him.
"Wait- Nadir- please, I'm so sick of these mysteries! Could you please just tell me-"
"It was your choice," he said firmly, beginning to turn the doorknob. "I warned you. When you chose him you chose this, too. And you must now accept these mysteries… these masks…"
I sighed, frustrated and upset. What did these two have against telling the truth? Why was drama an indispensable part of Erik's life? I followed Nadir into the trailer.
"Good morning."
I looked up at smiled at an angel who sat at the head of the table. His voice did wonders for my nerve endings. I felt lighter all of a sudden. I nearly flounced over towards him and sat down.
"How are you?" I asked sincerely.
He gave me a level stare and then slowly said that he had seen better days. I blinked, a little offended. Had I done something to upset him that I should receive this treatment? What about last night?
I sighed again and then picked up my folders.
"What's on the agenda this morning?"
We spent the morning polishing some designs and then running them by the men. Meg put a few calls through my cell phone from various other customers. I didn't deal with their cases specifically, but they had complaints that had to go to me, as the head of the department.
Finally we broke for lunch and I sighed, stretching my arms over my head.
Erik watched me. "Are you still tired?" He asked softly.
I glanced at him, surprised at the first shred of affection he had shown me all morning. Could I really deal with this kind of inconsistency all my life?
I looked into his eyes and knew that I could, because it was Erik, and I wanted nothing but to be beside him. He asked me if I was going anywhere for lunch and I shook my head, silently wishing that he would ask me to accompany him somewhere. He sighed, saying that I should eat more. I frowned and asked him where he was eating.
He gave me an enigmatic smile. "I don't eat much, my dear. I'll stay here to oversee the construction."
"That's what we hired the overseer for, Erik." I said glumly.
He laughed at me and I glared.
"I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands, "but you are very adorable when you pout."
My breath caught and I felt my cheeks burn. Adorable, he thinks I'm adorable!
Nadir popped his head in and called Erik out. Erik nodded towards me and mentioned something about seeing me later. I nodded, cheery with excitement. They left and I leaned back in my chair, smiling.
My cell phone rang a few minutes later, and I took a few moments to distinguish between the ring and the sound of my rumbling stomach.
Then I picked up.
"Hey Raoul."
"Hi, darling. How are you?"
"I'm good. But what about you, what time is it there?"
He chuckled. "I'm still in Hawaii, Christine. The time is the same. I don't leave for Australia until next week."
"Oh." I blushed. "Sorry. Well… how is everything going?"
"It's really great. Have you seen me on T.V?"
"Oh, uh…" I scrambled to come up with some believable excuse as to why I hadn't been watching my boyfriend on T.V…
"That's alright," he said cheerfully, and I let out a breath, thankful for his good nature. "I don't even like watching surfing on T.V. It's only exciting if you are there."
Which only served to remind me that I wasn't there with him, like I should have been.
"Anyway," he sighed. "How's Meg?"
"Meg?" I hadn't known that he and Meg were close at all, but if they had developed a friendship, it would explain why she was so pro-Raoul. "Meg is fine. She's at the office now, if you want to talk to her."
"That's okay. I was just wondering. She's really great."
"Yeah, that's why I live with her."
He laughed and the other line went fuzzy for a second.
"Raoul?" No answer. "Raoul, are you still there?"
"Christine? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah-"
"Sorry, I must have gone through a dead zone. Listen, I'm about to see some reporters, but I'll be free towards dinnertime. Can I call you then?"
"Sure. Just make sure it's after six. I have an engagement."
"Alright. What's happening?" He sounded interested.
I stuttered. Music lesson with the angel? Wouldn't cut it. Seeing my beloved? I doubted it… "I have a… thing." Brilliant, Christine, brilliant. I blurted out the first safe name I thought of."Mr. Tater, from the Opera House… he wanted me to… come to his… thing."
"Okay," he chuckled a bit. "Sounds like you are excited."
"Utterly." I went with his assumption and inflected it with sarcasm.
"Well, have fun." He believed me. "I'll call you after, okay?"
"Yeah. Good. Be well, Raoul."
"You too. I love you."
He waited for a response and I swallowed hard. For lack of courage, I enacted the tried and true avoidance trick.
"Raoul?"
"Yes?"
"Raoul, I can't hear you."
"Christine, I'm right here."
Oh, how my heart hurt! I was such a terrible person.
"Raoul? Raoul?"
"Christine? I must be going through another dead zone… Christine?"
"Raoul?" Then I audibly sighed and clicked off. I listened the silence around me and let the tears drip from my eyes. I wished I had the courage to let him off and not hurt him like I was… what was it that was holding me back? Was I jealous of another woman who would take him? I knew that I cared for him, but I didn't love him. I twirled his ring around on my necklace and frowned at the table. Was he safer? Maybe that's why I clinged to him… because I could trust him to be predictable…
And, I remembered only a few minutes later, he belonged to only me.
Because after lunch, Nadir and Erik returned to the trailer. I had to count the number of bodies coming through the door at least four times until my mind accepted the simple fact that there were three people. Nadir, Erik, and her.
My blood bubbled and I clenched my teeth. I gripped my pencil tightly and began to make thick, dark lines across the paper we would be using.
"Christine!" My ears cringed and I let out a slow, angry breath, willing myself not to yell or scream.
"Christine, how delightful to see you again!"
I turned very gradually, my eyes first alighting upon Nadir, who gave me an apologetic look. I now thought about his words to me this morning, and saw the connection. Obviously she wasn't my fault… my gaze fell upon Erik, who stood tall and grim behind her. Was it not his fault? Nadir had said it wasn't…
I finally looked at her, plastering a sickly sweet smile on my face.
"Miss Carla, the pleasure is mine." In a moment of sarcastic hatred, I gestured kindly towards my chair. "Would you like to sit, Miss?"
"Why, thank you, you are so kind!" She smiled brightly at me, and her eyes burned with the kind of dull evil I imagined Satan to have. "But I must decline. I'm sure Mr. Destler would rather that I-"
"Oh, I wouldn't hear of it, Miss Carla! No, you must take my seat. I insist!"
Carla finally acquiesced and I pulled out the chair for her, acting the ideal hostess. I seated myself beside Nadir and dragged the papers from Carla towards myself.
Then I trained my gaze directly on Nadir and said, "Would Mr. Destler mind if I took these over to Jack in the living room area? He called while you were out and asked a few questions."
Nadir looked back at me despairingly. I suppressed the urge to glare at him, too. I knew that of all people, it wasn't his fault. I felt a hand on my arm and snapped around to look at the offending man, who had sat, not in his normal seat at the head of the table, but directly next to me. For him I did not spare my glare.
He looked hurt and I had to fight to keep myself angry with him. It wasn't like I had forgotten Carla; I had just previously pushed her from my mind. But it was impossible to do with her sitting there!
"I will go then," I said icily, "if you agree."
"Perhaps I should come with you."
"No. You need to stay here. Remember? You said you were going to oversee construction. Well, Mr. Bays is due here in ten minutes with his report, and you should be here to receive it."
"No," he argued, now angry that his words had been thrown back at him. "I should go with you to explain. I know more about the design than you do and Jack needs technical advice-"
"You should stay here, Mr. Destler." I said emphatically. "You are needed here."
"I am needed on the site."
We were locked in each other's gaze in a stubborn fight for control of the situation. I could suddenly hear his voice by my ear, soft and inviting, calling my name. But his lips weren't moving! I swayed slightly, breaking eye contact and shaking my head, trying to rid it of the sound of his voice. It wasn't fair to win like that…
"Nadir, Miss Daae and I will be right back. Can you attend to the-"
"You must let me come with you!" Carla said suddenly. "It would be so exciting to see the two of you in action on the field!"
I suppressed a groan. I had wanted to be alone, away from all of them! And now this! I stood up abruptly and pushed my chair in rather roughly.
"Yes, you must certainly come, Miss Carla. It will be an education. And now, if you please, Mr. Destler, we must be going. Jack will be waiting."
I felt Erik watching me and I wanted to push him away… or fall into his arms… anything to make it stop!
The fresh air of the breeze that hit my face once we were outside was refreshing. I took a deep breath.
"Where is Jack?" Erik asked from behind me. I didn't turn back to look at him.
My problem was that Jack had never actually called. If it had been only Erik I could have made something else up, but now that I had made the big deal, I couldn't let Carla see me in defeat.
"He is in the living room area, like I said. Although he may have moved by now…" I figured that gave me enough leeway. I was ahead, so if I saw him I could speak to him quickly and try to save face.
I stopped suddenly, remembering that Jack didn't even work on Wednesdays. Surely Erik must have known this as well. He kept immaculate records on all of the employees.
"Um…"
"What is it?" Carla asked cheerfully. "Have you lost your way?"
I clenched my fist and turned towards my right so I wouldn't have to look at her. Erik stepped closer to me and I could see in his eyes that he knew my lie, and was confused by it.
"I just remembered," I began unevenly, "that Jack said he would be in the…" A sudden burst of inspiration hit me. "…music room."
Erik's eyes widened and Carla stepped partly between us, so we formed a triangle.
"So we will go to the music room? That is delightful. In what direction is it?"
Erik stared at me. He knew also that there was no music room in this household.
"The music room is a hard hat area." He cleared his throat. I watched his eyes as he watched mine. Both of us were now speaking in metaphors, and I tried to interpret his words.
"Yes." I agreed. "It can be… dangerous. I don't think you should be in there, Miss Carla."
"Miss Daae is right. It wouldn't be safe for you there."
Carla was not as stupid as I liked to assume; she sensed that we were hiding something. She didn't like the fact that we were staring at each other.
"It doesn't sound like it is safe for any of us. I think we should return now."
"Yes," I said quietly. "Yes, we should return." I started to do just that when I heard Carla call my name. Overly irritated, I again turned to face her.
She had taken Erik into her arms and was kissing him squarely on the lips. I sighed. My heart had taken a rough beating these past few days. My throat felt heavy and I just wanted to be home, alone, away from the world and all of its cruelties. Tears began to collect and glitter in my eyes and I stared at the ground, waiting for her to finish her silent torture. Women knew how to hurt each other more effectively than armies of men…
She was apparently satisfied, for she took his hand and began walking past me, smirking. I ran my fingers through my hair and turned back to look at the beginnings of the house. It was small and looked forlorn now that all the workers had taken a break, but I believed in it… it would survive, despite everything…
I thought for a few seconds about not attending my music lesson, but the sheer depression the thought laid over me convinced me otherwise.
As I ascended the stairs yet again, I wondered what I would find behind the door. Would he come begging for my forgiveness as he had last time? I didn't know if I preferred that to us just forgetting about it. I could easily recreate reality for myself, a reality in which there was no Carla. I had been doing it all my life; there was still a part of my mind that chose to believe that I was not deformed, and that Papa was still alive, only away on some vacation…
When I opened the door, Erik was not sitting at the piano, but was perched on the windowsill, staring out into the moonlight. I sighed loudly, alerting him to my presence, and closed the door.
He did not turn.
"I have always thought that the ocean was a very magical thing. Did you ever think that, Christine?"
I shrugged, even though he could not see me.
He trailed his fingers down the luxurious velvet red curtains.
"I have also always known that singing and stress do not mix." Erik look twisted his head to look at me. "Would you like to go out on the beach?"
"Now?" I asked. My soul and heart screamed yes! but my mind was against it. I didn't want the memory of Carla to disrupt what I had with him in the music room. Changing our usual music schedule meant that something was wrong, and I refused to admit that it was.
"Yes. We can sing afterwards. I would never take time away from your singing. But I'd like you to relax a little bit first."
I swallowed my tart response, that it was his fault I was so tense, and instead nodded stonily.
"Fine. But not too long. I have to do some things at six."
He looked at me sharply but did not reply. Instead he rose gracefully and caused my heart to beat faster as he approached. Oh, I hated him! He took my hand and began to lead me down the stairs and I hated him because I loved him so much.
Once we were in the cool night air I disentangled my hand from his and walked a few paces ahead of him. All day I had been craving solitude. I figured this was the closest I was going to get.
We reached the sand and he laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Here," he said, guiding me over to a little shadowed spot by the dunes. "Let's just sit here for a moment or two."
I wanted to cry at his kindest as I recalled last night. It had been so romantic and intimate… Oh, Erik…
"What is it you wanted to say to me?" I asked after a stretch of silence.
"What do you mean?"
"You must have taken me out here for a reason."
"I wanted you to-"
"Relax. Yeah, I know." His earnest tone infuriated me. I wanted truth!
"You sound so angry, Christine." He observed bemusedly.
"Are you saying I don't have a right to be?" I challenged him with my eyes and he twisted his body to face me fully.
"I wish you wouldn't be, is all I am saying."
"But- answer me! Don't I have a right to be?"
Erik did not answer. Watching me intently, he began tracing lines up and down my forearm. My eyes drifted closed.
"Stop," I whispered. I was suddenly close to tears. "Erik, please…" I tingled all over.
He dropped my arm and drew me into a half hug.
"Christine, you only have a right to be angry when you know the whole truth. And I cannot tell you everything."
"Why?" I whined, even while nestling my head into his shoulder. "Why? I want to know!"
"I know…"
"If you are dating her why don't you just say something and make it less awkward for me?" I asked finally. "And, if you are dating her-" I tried to pull away from him but his grip had tightened like a metal clamp and he held me fast.
"Is that what you thought?" He asked incredulously, lifting my face to look at me. "That we were dating?"
I succeeded in pushing him away and stared out at the waves angrily. "Well I don't know about you, Mr. Destler, but most people don't go around making out with people they're not dating!"
Erik stared at me and finally I heard a soft chuckle escape his mouth. He was laughing at me! I couldn't believe it! I was going to murder this man!
"Erik…!"
He sobered at my tone and took my shoulders in hand.
"Christine," he said seriously, "I am not in a relationship with Carla."
"Then what the heck-" He cut me off and laid a finger on my lips.
"I know what it looks like, but I need you to trust me when I say that I do not love her and we are not in a romantic relationship. There are some things that you cannot understand."
"Oh, try me, Erik, I've seen a lot in my time!"
He nearly growled. I felt the rumbling deep in his chest, as he was holding me so close.
"It was a matter of staying alive, Christine, so that I could keep a promise to your father."
I scoffed. "Are you telling me that my father made you promise to sell yourself to some harlot from Ir-"
"No, no! You are not listening to me! Carla saved my life."
"So naturally you owe her something! I understand completely."
"Damn it, Christine! If you only knew what I went through for you! That vile women is my curse- my constant reminder of what I sacrificed, for you!"
"Really?" I inquired sarcastically, "So what did you do? Rob a bank, murder someone?"
His eyes darkened considerably and he fell into a black silence. I was suddenly frightened. What had he done?
"Murderers don't deserve to live; don't you agree, Christine?"
I blinked, my mind crazed with fear at his icy tone. My breathing was shallow and uneven.
"I- I don't know, Erik-"
Erik didn't like my answer. His tone darkened. "I will be rid of Carla one day," he vowed. "You needn't worry about her. She thinks she has a hold over me…"
"But doesn't she?" I whispered, needing to know, despite my lingering fear of him.
"No." His gaze burned through me like fire. "Only one person has a hold on me, a hold like iron, like silver cord; a hold that can never be relinquished, so long as my heart beats…"
"And Carla… is not that person." I wanted that person to be me. I wanted it so bad that I began to cry. What if there was already another in his life, someone I couldn't begin to compare to? Wouldn't he have just told me if he loved me?
"No." He traced a finger down my face and I imagined for the moment that he did love me. "Christine… I must continue this pretense with her if I wish to survive. She holds my life in her hands and if I enrage her she will not hesitate to kill me, and you, too."
"Me?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Why me?"
"Because you are my angel, and she knows it."
"I don't understand, Erik."
"Perhaps you will, in time."
I stared at him.
"Sing something for me," I pleaded.
"As you wish." He scooped me up into his arms and sang quietly the whole way back to the music room. We commenced with the lesson.
He helped me with a piece I had been having extensive problems with and when we were done the feeling of accomplishment was exhilarating. I sat next to him and sighed, allowing the music to soothe my body.
"Do you forgive me, Christine?"
I looked up at his troubled tone and saw that he was gazing steadily at the piano, running his fingers along the keys.
"For Carla?"
"For… everything."
I didn't even have to think about it.
"Of course I do, Erik." I still loved him. Was that the thing with love? There was not a thing he could do that would cease my love for him. I still wanted to press myself close and listen to his heartbeat and his soft breathing. I still wanted to talk with him for hours and know every corner of his mind. I still wanted to marry him and be with him for the rest of my life… when I began to cry he took me into his arms and rocked me back and forth.
He whispered to me in French and I pretended that he was telling me that he loved me…
When I got home, Meg was chatting away on the phone. I sighed and made my way into the kitchen to make some tea.
Meg finished a few minutes later and joined me at the table.
"That was Raoul." She said and I was genuinely surprised.
"Oh… did I miss him? I thought he'd call my cell."
"No, you didn't miss him. We talk sometimes. He's a great guy."
"Yeah, I know…" I eyed her and she placed a kiss on my forehead.
"He really loves you, Christine. I just want to see him happy."
I didn't understand her words and I was too tired to contemplate them too deeply.
"Me too," was all I said, continuing to sip my tea. She charged upstairs and returned some time later. She announced that she was going out with Nathan and I waved her away, wishing her a good night.
Raoul called a while later, and when we hung up, I took a hot shower and let my tears mix with the water.
I wanted to understand life. Was that too much to ask? I wanted to know why everything was so complicated and why I couldn't have Erik.
I wanted to know why I didn't have the courage to break up with Raoul and let him be happy with someone who deserved him. In the end, I knew Meg was wrong. I wasn't going to break someone's heart. The two men I loved, Raoul as a brother and Erik as something much, much deeper… they would be fine without me. My heart was going to end up broken. Even if I forgave Erik, I still didn't understand. Why couldn't Carla just go away? I knew it was a childish thing to think but it is what I really felt. She had saved his life…
I shuddered. I had read stories and seen movies about people sleeping around to save their lives in dangerous situations, but… Erik? My Erik?
If it was true, did it make me think any less of him, love him any less?
No… because underneath it all I was still glad that he was alive. I was happy to love him and have him nearby, even for those few, short and blissful hours in the music room…
I started off really liking this chapter, but then I began to dislike it. I kept asking myself what the purpose of the chapter was. Of course there was a purpose, or obviously I wouldn't post it. But… ugh! It smells like a filler chapter, and I hate filler chapters! There were important things in here, like Christine and Erik finally dealing with the Carla issue, and a bunch of other important lines and tidbits of information that I hoped you picked up… but it was so long because I felt like if I kept writing maybe it would get better.
I hope you don't all hate this chapter. I really like the lake scene with Erik and Christine. But overall my writing felt off. I'm going to post this chapter now (11/2/08- that date thing really helped me get this up faster!) and I hope it is not a mistake. I hope you guys really enjoy this!
Did you find Christine's reactions believable? Is she just stupid that she does not see Erik's love? Is her reaction to the Carla thing believable? I'd love feedback… whatever you've got!
Again, I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter and stick with the story. I'll try to improve soon, because the next big avalanche is coming in a few chapters… maybe even two, if I get sick enough of filler chapters (sadly, the next chapter is also kind of a filler chapter, even though there are some very important things that happen)
So… be well and happy reading! Please, please enjoy this! (And in the next chapter I give credit for those two songs I used. I changed a lyric in Tubas in the Moongliht... just so I don't get sued...)
Thank you so much,
Your (hesitant to call herself) authoress,
~IceCliff