Happy Saturday Dear Reader! Wishing you well. Thank you for continuing to read along with me. I wanted to get in a final proof. This was hard to write.

Chapter 27:The Garish Light of Day

I eventually settled into a routine of sorts while I tried to decide what I wanted. Thus began Erik's ghostly courtship for I never saw him. His love notes were as passionate as the lyrics he wrote and his gifts were thoughtful, relevant to my needs. If his purpose was to permeate my waking thoughts and seduce me in my dreams he succeeded. Though physically distanced, my mind became even more Erik centric. My voice wasn't ready to sing yet, or I assumed Erik would let me know. When had I lost my own individuality and come to rely so much on him? I was letting him control me, seeking his view point at times even though he wasn't really there and I was talking to a version of him in my head. I didn't know if I should reject his courtship or embrace it. In my mind we danced the tango in Past the Point of No Return. One moment I passionately leaned in, embracing a life with him, and then the next I was resisting, twisting away, to separate myself from him and the darkness I saw. I began to fill my down time in an effort to escape my all consuming thoughts of him.

I remained an early riser and my previous morning lesson time was taken up with trying to sort out how I had time traveled. If I was able to find a way back would I go? I didn't know but it served its function, occupying my mind. I was really at a loss. I had no idea when I had changed times. I didn't know what I had touched, wondering if there had been some sort of port key. I spent my mornings wandering the opera house, exploring all the rooms I had been in for sure when I had known I was in the future. It all seemed so futile. Erik probably could help you, a voice would say in my head. But would he? my inner voice countered. I recalled that Erik had always redirected me from searching for a way back home to my time. And I, so abashedly enamored with him had allowed him to become my world.

I waved to Jean as I made my way to my dressing room at a brisk pace on my way back from my morning excursion. I had been going through the practice rooms, searching for the first one I had heard Erik's voice. They all looked the same and felt the same. I closed my door, my eyes instantly drawn to the fresh rose and note on my vanity. And I felt his presence invading the room, though he was nowhere to be seen.

"Erik?" I called but there was no response. I walked over and sat at my vanity. My fingers running over the soft petals of the rose. The parchment of his note was so crisp. My fingertips smudged the ink. Had I just missed him?

"My Angel, what are you seeking?" he asked, his voice was soft in my left ear, making the hairs rise.

I turned my head in the direction of his voice but I was alone. "Erik?"

"Yes my Angel it is I," said the voice in my ear and I shivered.

"Why are you hiding?" I asked.

"You ask that I stay away so I am keeping my word," continued the voice in my ear. "What are you searching for?"

"Come to me Erik, hide no longer." I asked. Maybe seeing my flesh and bone ghost would make the thoughts in my head cease to battle?

"Are you certain my Angel? You were very adamant that I give you space," he whispered softly with a hint of sadness in my ear. Maybe I had been too harsh? But think what he has done.

"Yes, Erik, I am certain I wish to see you." I replied softly.

I heard the click of the mirror. He appeared. It had only been a few weeks without him but his appearance did little to alleviate my conflicting emotions. Impeccable dressed as always compensating for his deformity I suppose. His eyes behind his half masked face had a sadness to them as they looked down to where I was sitting. He hung back and did not enter the room.

"Erik, please come in," I bid, wanting to run to him in spite of all that had occurred.

He barely stepped into the room. "How are you?" He asked his voice full of concern, tugging at my heart.

"I am recovered. Erik, I ... How have you been?" I asked gently, not wanting to frighten him and wanting to know.

He sighed, "I was alone before but now..." His words had petered out for a bit and then resumed more thoughtfully, "I knew I would miss you but I never knew one person could fill a room, a home, my life. I want to be worthy of you and I do not want to hurt you. I miss you so much it hurts physically. I hear your voice in my head, you are my conscience. I think what would you have me do?"

I confessed. "Erik, I miss you and our music yet I fear your need to control everything; me, the show, Carlotta. You scared me."

He closed his eyes briefly, in anguish, "I will forever regret that I caused you such pain. Would you allow me to continue as your voice teacher, here in your dressing room?" he asked and then he added, "We need not go back to the house. You are so talented and your voice should not suffer for my folly."

I nodded unable to put into words my reply. How could I refuse him our music when I wanted it too? I would be cruel to us both if denied him my voice. My impulse was to run to him, to feel his arms around me, to kiss him, but I rejected my inclination and stayed still, rooted against my chair.

"Are the mornings still acceptable?" he asked tenderly, reaching his hand out and then withdrawing it to clutch at his side, his fingers fidgeting.

I looked at my hand to realize I had stretched my fingers out to, in want of his touch. "Yes, the mornings will be fine." as before echoed in my mind and I closed my hand. Would and could things return to as before or had we past that point?

"I will look forward to our lessons," he said.

"As will I Erik." I replied, finally breaking a partial smile for him, for I spoke the truth.

"I bid you farewell my Angel," he said bowing at the waist with a dramatic flourish and then he was gone.

The next morning I awoke excited, feeling my normal joyful self. I would sing with Erik again. I made haste in my dress and gathered my toiletries as I made for the shared bathroom, a spring in my step, a song on my lips.

I had tidied my abode, my down comforter and blanket neatly folded and stored at the bottom of my wardrobe. His rose in a vase and his letters decorating my vanity. I sat waiting for him, facing the mirror.

The click of the mirror opening brought his familiar form. I felt my heart constrict.

"Good Morning my Angel. I trust you slept well," he said.

"Actually, I did not," I confessed. "I was too excited."

A smile broke out upon his face and I smiled back in response. "Oh my Angel," he cried. "Let us sing." He was ever so gentle with my voice. "Do not push yourself, my dear, there will be plenty of time for you to sing at full strength." We sang a quiet duet and I felt my soul twine with his and our voices blended. I had music again and Erik was no longer a ghost in my life. I lived for our daily lessons. Music coursed through my veins. My voice bloomed once more, surpassing its previous state. I was in awe of what he had been able to cultivate within me. My voice was not my own. He commanded my voice and it obeyed him. "The angels will weep to hear your voice, my dear," he told me weeks later.

Carlotta missed dress rehearsal and I subbed in, playing the part of the Countess with trepidation. Opening night was in two days. Where was she? What had happened? It did not seem in her character to give up an opportunity to showcase her voice and strut about. My performance lacked the quality and skill that our morning lesson held. "Breath my Angel, breath, it is your moment to shine, sing for me, for us, and for you. Take what is rightfully yours." Erick whispered his encouragement in my ear but I only floundered more. I finished jotting down the notes from Monsieur Reyer and fled to my dressing room flushed over my poor showing.

The mirror clicked open. "What is wrong my Angel?" he asked, reaching to comfort me but I wandered over to my vanity and sat. His masked face peered at my reflection in the mirror from over my shoulder. "My Angel, is it your voice? Do you feel unwell?" he touched my shoulders but I flinched. His facial features tightened. "I see. All is not forgiven."

His reflection walked to the far wall and then circled back to me. His hands landed on either side of the chair, near my shoulders. His voice took on a low deep rough quality. "My Angel does not trust me."

I flinched. "What can I do to earn your trust back? Have I not been a perfect gentleman?" He did not touch me, yet his breath near my ear did. I watched his every mirrored motion. Then his voice began to caress me. "Have we not mutually felt the pull of our music on our souls?" I leaned back into his voice and then abruptly he pulled away. "And yet you do not trust me."

"Erik, I.."

"Do not deny it my Angel. Your performance, or lack thereof, spoke volumes regarding your trust of me."

My heart thudded and I feared to speak my fears. "Say it my pet," he coaxed in a purred, "for surely we both know what you are thinking, yet it hangs as unfinished business between us."

I found my voice. "Did you hurt Carlotta?"

"Hurt Carlotta?" he asked in disbelief and disdain. "How could I even imagine touching one hair on her precious wig when I know it would mean the end of us." He began to pace. His frustration with me palatable. "You have such little faith in my love for you. I have learned my lesson if I am to have you, to woe you, I must be on my best behavior. But I see even that is not good enough for you. You are so quick to judge me now based on past faults. You become like the rest my dear, loath to have this monster at your side. For I see it in your eyes I am a monster. You will find that Carlotta wanted the day off to sing at a luncheon. How do I know? It is my business to know all that happens in my opera house."

"I want to trust you Erik. I want to know that you will not harm others, that I can be safe with you. It will take time. I want to trust you." I pressed on, finding the courage to say what I wanted, "I want a healthy relationship, where we are partners. I would rather be alone than be abused."

The half of his face I could see fell, and he tensed. A wave of emotions crossed his features and he gripped the back of the chair behind me as if physically struck, the chair shuttered. "Alone?, I have been a fool. Of course you would prefer to be alone than with me. I have treated you so badly, my Angel. Haven't I? In your eyes for sure. What right do I have to bend and twist someone to my will?"

He rushed on, "My whole life I have hidden in the dark, alone, to avoid being hurt. People cannot be trusted because they hurt you." He paused as if struck. "I… I hurt you, you ran away to save yourself from me, to avoid being hurt, and then I forced you, I hurt you, you do not trust me. Then he turned on himself, "How can you trust me? Oh my Angel, I am a wicked creature. How can I ask you to love me when I hurt you and others? I am no better than the man that attacked you in the park. I must be repulsive to you. Forget me. I do not want to cause you any more pain."

"Erik, wait." I called but he was gone, the mirror clicking into place. I clicked the passage open, "Erik, please come back." He was right. I had instantly thought the worst of him. Oh what did I want? Should I try to follow Erik? I was worried I would injure myself or fall in one of his many security traps. He was hurting and my instinct was to comfort him. I had needed space and now he needed space to think. I would see him tomorrow for our lesson. Then we could talk. I closed the mirrored passage. I made ready for bed. Dinner with people, where I would have to act was beyond the scope of my fragile heart and mind at the moment. Laying on the settee in the dark, I pictured Erik alone, self punishing himself as I knew that he would. I whispered to myself, "My poor Erik." as tears damped my face while I laid on my side hugging my pillow to myself wishing it was he instead.

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