She had fainted. Christine had fainted after seeing his face. There only explanation was that he had grossly misinterpreted what the gesture of her stroking his cheek meant. She hadn't accepted anything. She had only wished to see if it felt as bad as it looked. Unfortunately, it must've. There was no saving grace when it came to his visage. He knew this very well.

He was a fool to let Christine convince him otherwise over the course of their relationship. Hoping that she'd be able to carry through with her naïve promises was his second biggest mistake. She meant well, of course, but she had no idea what she had been saying until tonight.

He carefully maneuvered her into a more comfortable position on the couch. He stood and headed to the kitchen numbly. He wet a rag with cool water and returned to the living room to lay it over her forehead. He removed her boots and put them off to the side. He covered her up with the throw blanket that laid over the back of the couch. He hesitated before lifting one of her tiny hands, kissing the back of it.

He dropped it as if it had burned him. He paced the living room like a caged lion for a few moments, trying to figure out what his next step was going to be. It didn't take him long to decide that it would be best if he wasn't around when she came to. It was doubtful that she would want to see him, given her reaction. Perhaps he could find a nice hotel or something.

He grabbed a piece of paper and perched on the edge of the couch. He tapped the pen against his lower lip as he tried to decide what he should write. It wasn't something that he found easy. But at the end of the day, he settled on a simple apology.

He nearly left information on how she could potentially find him but decided against it. His face had probably marked the end of their relationship. If not his face, then her reaction to it. She could love him as much as she wanted, but he knew that she would no longer desire him. That was just as important to him.

He didn't bother to grab anything but his wallet. He wouldn't need anything too important tonight, after all. He locked and closed the door behind him, ensuring that he shut it quietly. He lingered for a few minutes, wondering if he was making some sort of mistake.

Maybe it would shatter her to come to without him there? Especially if she found his note. Maybe he hadn't misinterpreted anything before she fainted. He shook the thoughts off and cursed himself inwardly. He was doing the right thing. Not for himself but for her. He couldn't allow himself to believe otherwise. For too much false hope would kill him.

She deserved someone that she wouldn't have to pretend to be attracted to. Someone that was just as beautiful as herself. Someone that wouldn't get her pitying looks in public. He wasn't that someone. He'd never been that someone, not even with the mask. He'd just been too selfish to realize it.

He stepped off the porch and walked down the sidewalk, shoving his hands into his pockets. He blinked back the burning tears in his eyes. He didn't wish to fall apart until he had complete privacy. It didn't take him long to reach the hotel and he paid for a couple days.

Maybe he'd get more if Christine's car was still in the driveway when he got home. She could be quite the stubborn little thing when she wished to be and he adored her for it. But he couldn't be around her. She would just break him down, break his will down. Make him change his mind about this. As appealing as that was, he refused to be selfish any longer.

Perhaps he should consider getting plastic surgery. Surely they could fix his face, make him someone worthy of her. Worthy of anything for once in his pathetic existence. Then, when he was absolutely gorgeous, he could fight to get the woman of his dreams back.


A small, breathy groan left Christine as she peeled her eyes open. She didn't feel better but she was comfortable. Surely, that had to count for something. She was utterly confused, though. She looked around to see if she could spot anyone, but she was utterly alone.

It took awhile for everything to come back to her, but once it had she bolted upright, the rag that had been on her forehead flopping uselessly to her lap. She brushed it aside as she kicked the blanket off of her.

Erik. Oh Erik. What had she done? She knew it wasn't her fault, not really...but that had been the worst timing in the world. Right when he was so painfully vulnerable. She couldn't help the immense guilt that had filled her.

She finally spotted the note on the coffee table and she leaned over to grab it. The words caused her heart to skip a beat or two. She couldn't register it right away, needing to read it multiple times before it sank in. When it did, it was like her heart had physically broken.

"Erik!" Christine screamed his name as well as she was able. The strain made the pain worse but she didn't care. She threw herself to her feet, rushing to check the other rooms and around the house outside.

When she found nothing, despite his car, she immediately rushed upstairs. She ignored the way her legs trembled, pushing her way through it. He had to be here still. He just had to be.

Her screams of his name became quieter and quieter until they were nothing more than raspy whispers. Her body gave out on her when she reached the empty music room on the third floor. She crumpled to the ground, weakly pulling her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and buried her face in them.

He was gone. She didn't know where and she didn't know what that meant for them, but she had to accept it. Rough, full body sobs racked through her as she laid there. They were interspersed with coughing fits and gasps for breath.

She was only able to relax when the darkness reclaimed her and she didn't have the energy to fight it.