Wow, so many reviews! Thank you all so much. I do try to keep the story interesting, and apparently I have succeeded so far. Well, the big moment is approaching where our lovebirds actually talk. Ready for some fluff?

And remember, I don't own anything or anybody.

Chapter 20 – Piazza Navona

Christine was waiting for Mme. Giry's return. The longer her friend and surrogate mother stayed away, the more agitated and nervous she got. She restlessly paed up and down the living room, worrying about a thousand things at the same time. Would Mme. Giry be able to talk to Erik? How would he react when he learned that she had recognized him? Would he agree to meet with her and listen to her apologies?

When she finally heard the door, she almost fainted. The next few moments would be very decisive. Mme. Giry entered, smiling. Barely daring to hope, Christine turned to the elder woman. "Did you..?" she asked. "Does he…?"

Mme. Giry hugged her. "All is well," she said. "I saw Erik and talked to him." She pulled the nervous girl close and continued. "He is fine, he looks healthier than he ever did, since he is not so deathly pale anymore, and while he is still rather slender, he is more muscular now. The biggest surprise was his face. He does wear some type of artificial skin now, and if you don't look too close his face looks normal. It is a very special mask that he designed himself. When he wears it he looks the way he probably would look without his deformity." She giggled. "I tell you, my little brother is quite handsome!"

Christine tried to imagine what Erik looked like with this new mask, then shook her head. It did not matter. She loved him the way he was, deformity and all. When she had kissed him all those years ago, he had not been wearing a mask and it had still been the most amazing experience.

"What did he say?" she asked hesitantly. "Does he want to see me?"

Mme. Giry nodded. "He loves you. He is not mad at you or anything and he will meet you tomorrow at Piazza Navona." She smiled. "He will bring his own chaperon, though. I met his adoptive father, too. The man is an original. He genuinely loves Erik, this adoption is not only for business reasons, and he is very protective of Erik. Apparently Erik has told him everything that has happened between the two of you, and as a consequence the old man is very wary of you. Be prepared that he will treat you like an enemy intent on hurting his poor son again." And she gave Christine a detailed report on her conversation with Erik and Giovanni.

Christine frowned. "Erik's father hates me?" she whispered, "how will that affect my angel?" Mme. Giry gave her a bemused look. "Don't worry about that," she advised. "Erik loves you, he will listen to his heart, and once Giovanni realizes that you are not going to hurt his son, and once he'll see that you make Erik happy, he'll come around, I am sure about that. Now let's think about what we will be wearing tomorrow afternoon…."

Xxxx

Saturday afternoon, shortly before three o'clock, Christine and Mme. Giry walked across Piazza Navona, heading towards the famous fountain. Once they arrived in front of it, Mme. Giry took a book out of her handbag and the two ladies pretended looking up information on the fountain, while they furtively glanced around. "They are approaching," Mme. Giry suddenly whispered, "don't turn, to your left."

A few moments later, Christine finally heard her angel's voice again, for the first time after all those years, and her heart beat faster. "Good afternoon, signorina Daaé," Erik said, "I see you are interested in this beautiful fountain. Maybe we can be of assistance, seeing that we work with stone as well…"

Christine turned to him, smiling, and Erik continued, "Please excuse my boldness, my name is Nardini, by the way, Erik Nardini, and this is my father Giovanni. We run a masonry company." Christine looked at him, at his face that seemed so normal. She barely noticed the seams of the rubber mask. "This must mean so much to him," she thought, "with this mask, my angel can finally live a normal life."

For the benefit of a young family walking by, she said to Erik, "I am pleased to meet you, signor Nardini. Thank you very much for your kind offer to explain this fountain to me." She then extended her hand to Erik, which he took and kissed, while Christine added, like an afterthought, "Didn't I see you at the masquerade earlier this week? I think I even danced with you…"

Mme. Giry approached Giovanni with her book. "Could you please help me with this, signore, which of these statues here represents the Nile?" she asked. Giovanni nervously glanced at Erik who offered Christine his arm and led her around the fountain, pretending to explain the various sculptures to her. Mme. Giry whispered to Giovanni, "let them talk, stay here with me." The old mason gave her a furious look. "What do you think you are doing?" he whispered. "Where shall all this lead?" Mme. Giry smiled. "A wedding, of course. What did you think?"

Giovanni was about to explode. "Now that the Vicomte has dumped her and no respectable man would want to marry her anymore, now Erik is suddenly good enough?" he spat out. Mme. Giry shook her head. "That's not the way things are, and since Christine is probably right now explaining it all to Erik, I can tell you the truth now. She just wanted Erik to hear it first, and from her. Christine broke off her engagement, not the Vicomte. She realized that she could not marry him, when her heart was longing for another. You may not believe me, but she is deeply in love with Erik."

Xxxx

Erik and Christine had put some distance between themselves and their respective companions. Christine smiled at Erik and said in French, "Enfin je t'ai retrouvé, mon ange." (Finally I have found you again, my angel).

Erik looked at her beloved face and replied in the same language, "I am no angel, Christine. I am a human being, and when you first knew me, I behaved more like a monster. You were right to fear me, and I cannot believe you are here with me, talking to me."

Christine shook her head. "No, Erik," she insisted, "you always have been and always will be my angel. I was too young, I did not understand, so much was happening at the same time, I was so confused, I judged you without giving you a chance to justify your actions…"

Erik stared at her in wonder. She had just called him by his name – for the first time ever. "You just called me Erik," he murmured reverently. Christine nodded. "Yes, I finally know your name, Angel. Back then I never bothered to ask you." She looked down. "You have always been so kind to me. You helped me when my father died, you taught me to sing, and I have treated you so poorly. Yet you walk here with me and talk to me as if we were still friends. How could you ever forgive me?"

Now it was Erik's turn to feel embarrassed. "My behavior five years ago was inexcusable. I should have accepted your decision. I should not have tried to force you." He glanced at her to see if the memories he had conjured up were frightening her. "Do not worry," he begged her. "I now understand,… I mean, I know that you do not… that my feelings are unrequited. I will therefore not bother you with my … love… anymore. But that's why it was easy to forgive you. I understood and accepted that you could not… did not… and that it was not your fault."

Erik looked down. "I am sorry, Christine," he whispered. "I did not want to bring this up. I do not plan to remind you once again of my feelings. I promise I will not annoy you with my feelings again. You won't hear me mention them again."

Christine summoned all her courage, looked Erik in the eye, blushed deeply and whispered, "What if I want to hear it?"

Erik stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. "You cannot possibly mean, what you just said," he uttered. "I must have misunderstood you." Christine was fighting for words, still surprised at her own brazenness, after all, she had practically just encouraged Erik to speak to her of love. Erik observed her, unsure how to interpret her agitation, then he asked softly. "What about the Vicomte? Why are you not married?"

Christine played nervously with her glove. As much as she wanted to tell Erik how much she loved him, doing so was harder than she had anticipated. Propriety dictated that a girl had to wait for the man to make the first move, and Erik had just promised not to mention his love ever again.

"I couldn't," she finally mumbled. "It did not feel right. I mean, I did like him, but it was not right. All the time during my illness I had been dreaming of love, about how magical and mysterious a kiss can be, how it is more than a touching of lips and tongues, but a merging of souls and minds…"

Erik had only listened to her first few words. "You were ill?" he interrupted her, worried. "What happened?"

Christine stared into the far distance, as if looking back to those long-gone days. "The night of the fire, I must have caught a cold in your lair, standing in that cold lake.. and my nerves were on edge, too. Once Raoul and I reached his home, I collapsed. The doctors said it was a combination of pneumonia and nervous fever, and for a few days they feared for my life."

Erik groaned. "My fault," he whispered, "that was all my fault! Forgive me, Christine, please forgive me for very nearly killing you!"

Christine looked at him, her eyes full of love. "Maybe it happened for a reason," she said. "Maybe the fever helped me see clear. As I said, in my delirium I relived all that had happened between you and me and Raoul, and I was dreaming of love, savoring it." A faint smile played across Christine's features. "Mme. Giry nursed me. She told me later, that in my dreams I was calling out to both, you and Raoul, begging you both to forgive me and worrying about your safety. Both your safety," she added meaningfully.

"You cared about my safety and asked me to forgive you?" Erik sounded incredulous. "Me, who had caused all this pain and suffering?"

Christine nodded. "Yes. I think deep down I knew that I had driven you over the edge, that I was just as guilty and as responsible for what had happened as you. And that what caused you so much pain had been my inability to understand the whole situation." She was not quite sure how to proceed, how to explain to him that she had been able to betray him so terribly, when her heart had always been his.

"Buquet," she finally blurted out. "It was because of Buquet." Erik looked at her quizzically. "What about him?"

Christine did not dare face him when she confessed. "I knew it had been you, and it scared me. I thought you had done it to cause a disaster beyond imagination as you had announced. I condemned you without even giving you a chance to defend yourself. I did not want to see you anymore afterwards. I did not know that he had been stalking you and that Mme. Giry had warned him repeatedly already and that you were just protecting yourself…."

Erik interrupted her. "I should not have done it, I know that now. I should have found another way to get rid of him. Oh Christine, there is so much in my past that I shouldn't have done. If only you knew!" His voice sounded so tortured that Christine had to slightly squeeze his arm to comfort him.

"The past is behind us," she said. "We cannot change it. But the future lies ahead, and the important thing is now to make sure it will be better than the past. You were treated with cruelty and violence, and therefore you retaliated the same way. But now you are respected and accepted… and loved." The last word came out as a whisper and Christine once again blushed deeply.

Erik stared at her. Had he understood her correctly? Had she really just tried to tell him that she loved him? He shook his head. No, surely he was imagining things. She had probably referred to his new family. "Giovanni has become a real father to me," he stated. "Only now do I know what it means to have a family, to have parents that are proud of you." He smiled and Christine's heart almost burst with love. Oh, how adorable he looked, when he smiled!

"I have a sister as well," Erik continued. "She is married and lives in Naples with her family. I have two nephews and a niece."

Christine gazed at him with love. "I am so glad, you have them, Erik," she said. "I am so glad, they were there for you, when I…" She left the sentence unfinished. She had not imagined it would be so hard to tell Erik everything.

"Don't blame yourself for anything," Erik said softly. "You said you were sick? What happened then, and why did the Vicomte not want you anymore?"

Christine tried once again to tell him. "You see, in my fever delirium I had this feeling of love, of finally being free of all constraints, of belonging."

Erik nodded. Of course, even then, in her subconscious she had known that she could now pursue her dream and marry the man she loved. "I understand," he whispered. "You did not have to fear me any longer, you were hoping for a future with your fiancé." The pained look on his face and the sad tone of his voice shocked Christine. She suddenly realized how much he still suffered, thinking that she had loved and maybe still loved his rival. She understood that she had to tell him everything, propriety be damned.

"I thought so, too," she said shyly, "but I was wrong. Once I was better and Raoul was allowed to visit me, I expected our encounter to be total bliss, like I had dreamed it in my delirium. But then," she blushed again, "when he kissed me, I did not feel anything. Nothing at all. And I suddenly remembered that it had been like that between him and me before. Bland, maybe even a bit awkward, certainly not the union of mind and soul I had envisioned. I knew then that something was not right. That this did not feel like what love was supposed to feel like, and I wondered how I knew that something was off when I had not realized it before." She turned to Erik, looking at him with all her love.

"Then it hit me," she whispered. "That before, I had not experienced a true kiss of love, therefore I had never before missed anything in my kisses with Raoul." Erik stared at her, unwilling to abandon himself to the hope which suddenly filled his whole heart.

"You," Christine finally uttered. "I had kissed you, and it had been the most wonderful experience. Nothing I had ever shared with Raoul came even close."

"Me," Erik whispered, incredulous. "I must be dreaming. Or maybe I am imagining things. You cannot possibly mean to tell me that this forced kiss in my lair… that you liked it better than that boy's…" He looked at her as if his life and salvation depended on her next words.

Christine nodded. "Yes. And it was not a forced kiss. You had asked me to stay with you, you had not asked any proof of my affection. I did not realize it when I kissed you, but I did it, because I wanted to. It has always been you, the angel my father sent me. I just… I didn't understand my own feelings, and after Buquet I was scared, I must have suppressed my feelings for you, tried to convince myself that you were a monster." She looked at her feet, embarrassed.

"Can you forgive me, Erik? I hurt you so much, I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I swear, if you can forgive me and are willing to give me a second chance, I would spend the rest of my days making it up to you."

Erik closed his eyes, as her words slowly sank in. Could it be true? Christine loved him? Him, the ugly freak? "I hope I won't wake up anytime soon," he sighed. "This dream is too good to be true."

Christine affectionately patted his arm. "It is no dream," she said, "look at me, Angel. Look me in the eyes and see how much I love you." Erik obeyed. Christine smiled at him, her whole face radiating love. "Once I knew, I could not marry Raoul anymore," she explained. "He did not want to let me go, it was a nasty scene. He thought you were dead, but it irked him that ultimately you had won. Though I suspect he always knew," she added.

"I still cannot grasp it," Erik mumbled. "Maybe you are fooled by my new rubber mask and think I am a normal man, even handsome, but underneath it, my appearance has not changed…"

"I know that, Erik," Christine answered. "It does not make a difference. I love you the way you are, in fact I wish you would not be wearing that false face right now. You did not wear a mask, when I kissed you…."

Xxxx

Mme. Giry was suddenly in a hurry to rejoin the couple. "We cannot allow them to kiss in public right now. They just officially met," she whispered to Giovanni. "We do not want to draw attention to the fact that they have known each other previously, that could put Erik in danger. Just play along, and all will be fine."

Giovanni sighed. He was not quite convinced yet that the soprano really loved Erik, though the way she was looking at his boy…

"Christine, dear," Mme. Giry addressed her surrogate daughter. "It is getting cool outside, I think we should go home, it would not be good for your voice to stay out much longer." Two pairs of eyes threw daggers at her, furious about the interruption.

"I hope you enjoyed the afternoon as much as I did," she continued. "If signor Nardini Junior is even half as knowledgeable as his father." She stared at Giovanni as if to make sure he would not contradict her. "Signor Nardini just asked me if we would grant him the favor of taking the tea with him and his son tomorrow afternoon. I said, I would love to, but only if you agree as well…"