Against all hope, my voice brought him around again, though he was far from opening his arms to me in welcoming affection. For an insufferable amount of time, which was probably the duration of a few seconds, Erik simply stared at me with his amber gaze. It was unsettling and alluring to once more have his eyes wash over me, even if in ridicule.
"Madame, you made your choice two years ago, if I recall correctly." He inhaled with audible impatience. "And, I have been cursed with an all but perfect memory. Yes, I can still see you kissing that boy as if it were yesterday when you left me."
"But, it was not yesterday, Erik. Times have changed, I have changed."
"No," he struck back at me, all at once, standing very close to my face, so that his breath lashed against my cheek. "There is little need to remind me of the passage of time, how long you have been the Comtesse de Chagny!"
"I was only a girl when I left with Raoul! I did not know my own mind!"
"And, it seems you still do not, if you believe that I will again fall to me knees and kiss the hem of your skirt, begging for your love!"
That singular image pierced deeper than any other, the memory of Erik burying his ravaged head in the folds of my dress, repentant, full of undying love, causing me to shutter at its intensity.
Very calmly, gathering my poise, I realized that the only way I would make any progress with Erik was to speak with painful honesty. It was my turn to be the supplicant. "I expected no such thing. In fact, quite the opposite."
"Christine, have I underestimated you," he mocked me, circling me like a vulture, which was all to easy to imagine with his arms wrapped in the folds of that black velvet opera cloak. "On what grounds exactly, must I ask, bring you here to this faded ruin and its resident ogre?"
"You would not believe me if I told you." I held my body rigid and stone still, willing all fear and intimidation to remain hidden.
"Madame de Chagny, there are very few things one could confess to me that I would not, at least, attempt to accept as truth. I have lived far too long, seen far more than your young eyes to not have a bit of faith in the preposterous."
I was well aware that by 'preposterous', Erik referred to any statement issued from my lips. "Then, shall we talk, as two civilized adults. I am no longer a child, and ask only what any gentleman would grant a lady."
"I am, and have never been a gentleman." Still, despite his rebuttal, Erik returned to the dressing room and laid out on the divan as I resumed my chair at the vanity table.
"More a gentleman than an angel, Erik. So, let's not trifle with symantics."