The restaurant was much busier than Christine would have expected given that it was fairly early on a Saturday morning. Raoul escorted her through the tables of people and out onto the patio, where it was at least a little quieter even if it wasn't less crowded. She breathed in the fresh spring air as she took her seat, letting the beautiful day and the warmth of the sun on her face lift her spirits even further. The rush of the night before hadn't quite worn off, and she had woken up in an especially good mood that morning. The day would start off with a nice brunch with her boyfriend and end with her on stage, and she had a hard time imagining how it could get much better.

"You look really pretty this morning," Raoul told her as he took his seat across from her. "I mean, you're always pretty, but especially today."

Christine laughed lightly. "Thank you. And thanks for taking me out this morning."

"Of course," Raoul said easily. "We have to celebrate your big performance."

"We planned this a week ago," she pointed out. "What would you have done if I had been terrible last night?"

"Well, obviously I would have canceled the date," he replied with mock severity. "Nothing to celebrate, no celebratory brunch."

"Ah. In that case, I'm especially glad that last night went well. Do we get to do this again tomorrow if tonight's show is good?"

"It's not really a celebration if you do it every day, is it?"

She gave him a playful nudge. "You're no fun."

This place had become something of a regular spot for them, and it was clear that Raoul frequented it even when she wasn't with him if the diligent service he received on such a busy morning was anything to go by. The waitress quickly arrived to take their orders, bringing their drinks out immediately and their food soon after that. Christine paused when she glanced up and found Raoul smiling at her. She gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged in response, still smiling.

"I want this to really be a celebration," he said. "We have a lot to be happy about, don't we? You have the show, and I'm finishing up my degree and going to law school, and… and things between us are going well, aren't they?"

Christine nodded. "Very well. I'm really happy."

"Good." Raoul shifted a little, his eyes darting nervously between her face and his plate. "Because I'd like to add one more thing to celebrate."

Her stomach dropped when he stood from his chair and dropped to one knee in front of her, reaching into his pocket to produce a small box. They hadn't discussed getting engaged since Raoul had first brought it up, and she had assumed that her less-than-enthusiastic reaction at the time had been enough indication of her hesitation. And given how tense things had been for a little while and how well they'd been going lately, she had been content to leave well enough alone, figuring that Raoul had just decided to drop the idea for the time being. Apparently she had been wrong.

She could feel the blush creeping up her neck and the panic rising in her chest as she sat paralyzed, aware that the din of conversations around them had grown hushed.

"Christine," Raoul began. "You know how much I love you, how much I've always loved you. Even when we were kids, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Raoul, wait," Christine said quietly, finally finding her voice. "Just hold on, please."

His brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"Um…" The people around them had gone completely silent, and as her gaze darted anxiously around the room, some people didn't even bother to pretend that they weren't watching the scene before them unfold. "Can we… can we go somewhere and talk about this in private? I feel a little… exposed."

"What is there to talk about?" Raoul asked, still not moving from his position. "Can't it wait for a minute until I've, ah, said what I needed to say?"

"No, no, it can't wait. Please, Raoul, just… let's just go somewhere else and talk, okay?"

He stood but didn't move from the table, hurt and confusion clear on his face. "What do you want to talk about?"

Christine sighed, starting to stand. "Come on. Let's go back to the car."

"No," Raoul said, his voice rising a little. "You've just… you've rejected my proposal and I want to know why. You want to talk, so let's talk."

Taking a steadying breath, she tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on her, focusing instead on keeping her voice quiet and even. "I… I just thought that I had made it clear when we talked about this before that I'm just not ready for this," she said gently. "I love you, Raoul, but I'm not ready to get married."

"But we wouldn't actually be getting married for over a year at least," he pointed out, but she shook her head.

"It isn't that, exactly. Even if there wasn't a timeline for when you wanted us to get married, even if we could have a long engagement, I just… it's hard to explain, and…" she shifted uncomfortably, forcing herself not to glance around them again. "Raoul, can we please talk about this a little more privately?"

She wasn't sure if he didn't hear her or if he just didn't care. "I don't understand," he said, growing frustrated. "You love me and you want us to be together, but you don't want to get engaged. This is the easiest decision in the world for me, and I'm a little worried that it's so difficult for you."

Looking down at her lap, Christine bit her lip as she tried to piece together reasoning that she couldn't even fully articulate in her own mind. "I… if we got married," she said, "my life is the one that would need to conform to yours. You would continue down that same path you're on right now, but I would need to move to wherever you are, find a job there instead of being able to keep my options open… everything would be limited for me. And, sure, I would be fine with doing that someday, but I'll just be starting out. I feel like I need to have a chance to establish myself a little first. Does that make any sense?"

Raoul was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know, Christine. This is what I want, and I don't know if I'm okay with taking a step back from this. I almost think that if you don't want this, then maybe we should just break up."

Christine studied the expanse of white tablecloth between them, not quite wanting to meet his eyes as she mulled over his words. "I think you're right," she said finally.

For a second, Raoul's face grew hopeful. "And?"

She shook her head. "I think we should break up."

There was a long stretch of silence. Christine didn't notice whether or not the hum of conversation around them had resumed; she could only hear her own breathing and the heavy thudding of her heart. She could hardly believe she had just uttered the words. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go. Surely, he had to understand her hesitation, had to know that it didn't mean she didn't want to be with him. But as steadfast as he was about this, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised that he wasn't willing to settle for less than what he wanted. After a few seconds she dared to look up at him, finding him still standing over her, looking at her as if he was trying to decipher words that she had just spoken in a foreign language. His hand rested on the edge of the table and she reached over to cover it with hers, but he jerked away at her touch.

"Raoul, I'm sorry," she said helplessly. "I don't want to end things between us, but I don't know what else to do. It's pretty clear that we want different things here, and if we're just heading in different directions, I don't know if we'll be able to make that work. If we can't find a way that we're both happy, then maybe it's…" she sighed, not quite willing to acknowledge the thought but finding that she was unable to shove it down. "Maybe it's for the best."

"How very… altruistic of you," Raoul replied. "I'm so glad to hear that you love me so much that you'd rather break up than get engaged."

The harsh edge to his voice caught Christine off guard.

"I do love you," she insisted. "And I really am sorry. But if things continue as they are and we're not both willing to make compromises, where do you see this going? Can you really see a future for us where we're both happy?"

"So that's the problem—that I'm not willing to give up the stable, secure future that I've been working towards for years so we can follow your non-plan for your life instead?"

"That's not at all what I'm saying," Christine argued, her voice rising slightly as her frustration and hurt grew. "If you could just give a little bit, maybe we could make things work. But you won't budge from your plan at all. We have to get engaged now and then get married according to the timeline that you worked out for us. You want me to live according to your timeline and you won't even let me have a say in it. I try to tell you how I feel and what I want and it's like you don't even hear me."

"You are unbelievable," Raoul told her. "As if I've never done anything for you. As if I've never made any sacrifices and this whole relationship has been a breeze for me. I've supported you though school and your lessons and everything that you did that kept us from really having a chance together. I've defended your carelessness and your aimlessness to my family, even when you bailed on the trip. But maybe they were right about you—maybe I shouldn't have trusted you."

Indignation flared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You come from nothing and you have nothing, and, frankly, you're headed into nothing. You're entering into an incredibly competitive career field with no plan, no connections, and hardly any experience. But you could easily charm your way to a patron."

"You think I'm dating you because of your status?" Christine asked incredulously. "I'm not scheming to take advantage of your situation, and I'm not some lost, helpless child who needs you to sort her life out for her. If that's what you honestly think, then it's obvious that you haven't bothered to get to know me. And you know what? Maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe to you, I'm still that little girl you met on the beach that summer. I don't need someone to take care of me and make my decisions for me, Raoul."

"I know you plenty well," Raoul shot back. "I know you well enough to know that if you really did love me like you say you do, you wouldn't want to break up, no matter what. This would be tearing you apart. So either you don't care about me like you claim to, or you have reasons for wanting to break up that you're not sharing."

"Like what?"

"Like feelings for someone else," he snapped, and she fell silent. "I've tried to ignore it, tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I'm not blind, Christine. You canceled our trip to come back here for your lessons. You spend every minute you can with him. Even last night, you hardly spoke to me after the show before you were running off to see him, which you hid from me, by the way. That sends a pretty unambiguous message."

It was a second before Christine could speak again, and her voice was decidedly weaker than she would have liked. "How did you know about last night?"

Raoul sighed, deflating just a little bit. "I didn't. I was only suspicious. Thank you for the confirmation."

"It's not like that," she defended, stubbornly blinking back the tears that were pricking at her eyes. "I would never cheat on you."

"But you're not denying that you have feelings."

She was silent, unable to speak around the lump in her throat as she was flooded with guilt, and he scoffed and turned away from her. Something in his reaction sparked anger in her, though, and she found that she wasn't ready to let the argument drop.

"So, what, you think that I have feelings for someone and you decide that rushing into marriage is the solution to that? Do you think that everything would suddenly be perfect if I had 'property of Raoul' stamped on my forehead?"

"Oh, forgive me for wanting to commit to the girl I love. But you know what? It would only show just that—that I'm committed to you. You could still be going behind my back. You could have been for our entire relationship, for all I know."

Finally deciding that she had heard enough, Christine stood abruptly and rushed through the restaurant and out onto the street, careful not to make eye contact with anyone on the way. She paused outside, trying to catch her breath, when Raoul appeared at her side. He started to say something, but she spoke before he could.

"Raoul, listen to me," she said, holding his gaze. "I know that you're hurt and upset, and I'm sorry for that, but you have no right to accuse me like this. When you're ready to have a conversation, you know where to find me. But until then, I think it would be best if you didn't talk to me."

Raoul was still for a moment before turning, slow and dignified, and walking down the street to his car. Christine started in the other direction with quick steps, pulling out her phone to call Meg. But her vision blurred and her hands trembled and the lump in her throat had grown too big to speak around, and she had no choice but to let the tears she had been fighting finally spill over.

Something was off that night. Erik couldn't place exactly what it was at first—her performance was still strong, her voice still beautiful—but something was missing. The light and energy that had made her so radiant the night before wasn't there. Her smile never quite seemed to reach her eyes. Something was definitely wrong, and the knot in his stomach grew as the show went on and he could only sit and wonder about it. It was gnawing at him by the end of the performance, and the little part of his mind that persisted that it must have somehow been his fault wasn't helping.

He watched for her as the audience filtered out, but the building gradually emptied and there was still no sign of her. Growing more concerned with each minute that passed, Erik eventually made his way down the quiet halls to the dressing rooms. All but one of the doors stood open to reveal a dark room; he knocked quietly on the closed door. Christine's "come in" was muffled, but he could hear the weariness in her voice.

Christine sat at the dressing table, having changed into her own clothes and sat down to remove her makeup, only to be kept there by a complete lack of desire to move. The same thoughts had been echoing in her mind all day—flashes of that awful morning, the hurt and frustration and humiliation. Meg had been quick to come and pick her up, and she hadn't prodded when Christine had muttered that she and Raoul were over and then sat silently for the rest of the ride home, passively watching the familiar stretches of road go by. She had told Meg everything once they had arrived home, and Meg had pulled her into a hug and let her cry quietly into her shoulder until the tears subsided into small sniffles. Drained, Christine had headed back to her room, spending the afternoon alternating between trying to study and trying to sleep but not really able to do either.

She had roused herself when it was time to leave for the theater, hopeful that for at least a little while her spirits would be lifted by the thrill of performing, allowing her to have a short reprieve. But even though she had tried, she hadn't quite been able to muster the energy she had hoped for, and her own disappointment with her performance only added to the weight of this day. And now, at the end of the night, she was left tired but restless and out of things to prevent her mind from replaying the morning in an endless, excruciating loop. Left alone in the dressing room, she had closed her eyes and let her head sink into her hands, and she hadn't been aware of just how long she had stayed that way until she heard Erik say her name. She looked up to see him entering, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out before he could speak.

Erik paused. "What?"

"I know I was distracted tonight," she sighed, looking away. "We put in so much work to get here, and then I can't even stay focused and put in a decent amount of effort."

Erik knelt beside her but said nothing, carefully examining her expression. She looked utterly worn out. "I'm… I'm not upset with you, if that's what you think," he said gently. "I could tell that something was off… and I was worried."

"Oh." She shook her head. "It's just been a rough day."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he offered.

Christine gave him a weak smile. "Thanks. I really am sorry that I was off tonight. I should have been able to pull it together more."

"I didn't think that you were that off," Erik told her. "I'm sure no one noticed anything."

They were quiet for a moment; he wanted to offer her some kind of comfort, but none of the words that came to him felt appropriate. He could see what it was in her expression now that had pained him. It was more than just weariness—it was sadness. His mind raced as he searched for some way to make the misery disappear from her normally bright eyes, to smooth the little crease between her brows.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked, acutely aware of how short the offer fell. Whatever was bothering her, a ride home surely wasn't the solution.

She shook her head. "That's okay. I don't really feel like going home yet."

There was another moment of silence, and Erik felt himself growing a little frantic as he searched for something to say, some way to give even a small amount of comfort to her. Even if he didn't know exactly what the cause was, perhaps if he could just take her mind off of it for a while…. Then the idea occurred to him. It was a bit of a leap, and it felt more than a little forward, but he spoke before he could change his mind.

"Come with me," he offered.

Christine looked up at him. "Where?"

"It's a surprise."

There was a spark of interest in her eyes, just as he had hoped. She considered for a second before standing and gathering her things, turning to him with a small, tired smile. "Lead the way."