From then on things weren't so bad. Erik, as he had said, hated her. She didn't doubt that. But somehow, after he had bandaged her finger he seemed to forgive her, if only a small bit. She would often sit by the fire with him. Not that he invited her over to sit with him you see, but she would find Erik sitting alone in his favorite chair and would sit on the floor in front of him. He never asked her to go away, so she took those moments for moments of mutual acceptance, if not friendship.
Sometimes he would play his violin. Always the sad songs, but Kaylen had always loved the sad songs and she would sit on the black couch and listen with eyes half closed imagining images to go along with the music, or else just watching Erik's profile against the fire through slit eyes. He insisted that the fire was the only light in the main room now. The candles sat unused on the candelabras, and every time Kaylen tried to light them Erik would follow right behind her blowing them out. The organ was gathering dust in the corner. Once she had tried to dust it, but it seemed to make Erik angry so she hadn't touched it again. It seemed pointless to her to have such a fine instrument and not even use it. She wondered if the dust on the keys would ruin it. But the violin was not such a terrible instrument, unless Erik wanted it to be. At times he could play the sweetest lullaby on the high E string. Those where beautiful and Kaylen often found herself dozing to them. At other times, however, Erik could call forth violent, raw notes from the lower G string. Those where terrible and many times frightening, but Kaylen enjoyed those all the more.
As time went on, her days began to develop a pattern. She would cook and clean for him during the day and sit and watch him at night. She never knew if he had the courage to take his life, but she thought it safer to watch him just in case. Of course she had to keep up appearances at the opera house with her friends and employers. Often she would go up to the upper levels and get an assignment from Birdy, which she would work on at Erik's house, or go out to dinner with her friends so that they knew that she had not forgotten them. Every time she returned, she feared that Erik would not let her in. He had no reason to, love was not there, nor friendship, and she had long ago run out of things to bargain with. But every night she returned and he would open the door with weary acceptance, whether out of habit or resignation she didn't know. Maybe he was counting on her to keep him alive.
She came home one night and Erik opened the door for her as usual. He seemed a little more friendly than usual, even helping her bring the groceries to the kitchen. She thought it unusual but didn't say anything, she didn't want to seem ungrateful and besides she never could tell what would upset him nowadays.
She fixed dinner as usual and walked into the main room, wiping her hands on a clean dish towel.
"Erik dinners done."
He didn't answer her and she found him sitting in his favorite chair with his eyes closed. She sat in front of him as she had done so many times thinking that he would get up and eat when he got hungry. She thought she could just hear over the roar of the fire Erik snoring gently and she turned to look at his face.
His mask glowed orange in the firelight and his mouth was relaxed. He was asleep. Her eyes moved to the table and she found the violin he had been playing earlier. Black lacquer, his favorite instrument besides the great organ but then he had not played that in over a month. Firelight bounced off of a glass near Erik's limp hand and she focused her eyes on what turned out to be a half empty decanter of brandy.
She gave him a look of sympathy and sighed, "Oh, Erik."
He snored loudly in reply.
"Come, lets get you to bed." She bent down and tried to lift Erik up. He said something that she couldn't understand, but seemed to be trying to get to his feet. She didn't think that he should sleep in his coffin-bed in his condition so she moved him over to the couch. Not to far away. She wasn't sure if she could have made it all the way to his room anyway.
She dropped him on the couch and he seemed to wake up.
"Christine?" he said looking up at Kaylen. His eyes where full of tears and he raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair. She could smell the liquor on his breath. Kaylen took his hands in hers before he could reach her hair and curled his fingers down to touch his palm.. "No Erik, it's me, Kaylen." He seemed to lose the hope in his voice and dropped his head back against the couch pillows. "Oh, yes, of course."
"Oh Erik, why did you have to go and do that for. Honestly, you're going to turn into a hopeless drunk." Erik laughed.
Kaylen smiled, he couldn't hate her when he was drunk, or so she hoped. She got up and covered him with a blanket.
"Better sleep it off. I don't envy the headache you'll have tomorrow. Goodnight, Erik." She turned to leave, but Erik caught her arm.
"Kaylen."
She turned around and kneeled next to him. "Yes Erik."
"You know when you think you have something and then it's gone? Like a flower that you see in the summer and miss in the winter. Or when you love something so much that when it leaves you can't go on? Or when something comes into your life and it seems like its the best thing that ever happened to you?"
Kaylen looked down on him with sympathy. His words where slurred and she thought that he couldn't possibly know what he was saying. "Erik get some rest, it will be clear in the morning." And she turned to leave again, but Erik reached out and grabbed her hand. "Listen to me!" He wiped his free hand over his masked face. He turned his face away from Kaylen and was silent. It seemed to her that he was crying and she sat down beside the couch still holding his hand. She laid her head on his hand and soon began to doze. She thought she heard him talking to her but then maybe it was just a dream.

Kaylen woke to find herself laying on the couch with the blanket she had used to cover Erik over her. She thought it had all been a dream, but then she looked over and saw the half-empty decanter.
Erik sat staring into the fire cold as ever. It seemed that last night had never happened. He had never spoken a soft word in his life as he ignored Kaylen for the flames in the fireplace. She knew she should get up and start on the chores that Erik wouldn't do, but she felt very weary suddenly and she turned away from Erik to face the back of the couch. This was worst than caring for a cripple, at least they had a will to live. Erik had nothing, no emotion, no cares, no love left. It was her fault. She had tried though hadn't she? Tried to rebuild what she had destroyed. It wasn't working though. It wasn't working and it wasn't worth it. She sighed and made her decision. She got up and cleaned and cooked for the last time.
That night she scribbled a note to Erik and left him what she could of the money she had save, since she wasn't sure how much money he had saved from his monthly salary.
She lit a candle and walked into Erik's room. He looked so peaceful in his coffin surrounded by the red lace curtains. She had been in his room so many times that his coffin looked like a regular bed to her. He had taken his mask off to sleep more comfortably and Kaylen looked at his bare face with indifference. She wouldn't have wanted to say goodbye to a mask anyway. She brushed a loose strand of hair from his eyes and wondered what he had been trying to tell her the other night. Maybe he had just been rambling on.
With a sigh, she blew out the candle and made her way back up to her room to pack her bags.
It seemed pointless to say goodbye to her friends since they would only try to make her stay. Instead, she left notes for them saying she would write and send an address where they could reach her as soon as she found a place. The arrangements had already been made and she walked out to the curb with her few belongings to meet the cab that waited for her.
It was dark and cold in Paris that night and the driver had pulled the hood to his cloak down low over his face and huddled against the cab. When he saw her he took her bags and heave them to the top of the cab with ease. The icy wind blew her hair to one side and she took her last look at the opera house. She hoped he could go on without her. She just couldn't do anything for him anymore.
She heard a click and turned to see that the driver had opened the door for her. The horses pawed the cold ground and tossed their heads as if they could sense her indecision. The driver held out his hand for her and she cautiously took it. She place her foot on the side rail and began to climb into the cab but the driver would not let go of her hand to let her go all the way into the cab. She turned around to give him a questioning look.
"Monsieur?"
"Your really leaving aren't you?" he asked.
"Erik?"
Erik pulled the hood down exposing his masked face and the sorrow in his eyes. He looked like a betrayed child.
"I have to Erik."
She turned to go into the cab, but he held on to her hand. "You can't leave. That night when I fell asleep in front of the fire, I was trying to tell you something. All this time I've been searching for true love and its been staring me in the face. I was so blind and here it stands right in front of me."
Erik raised his hand to cup her face and brush her cheek with his thumb. He smiled and Kaylen leaned down and kissed him. There they stood embracing each other, alone in the middle of the cold Paris night.