A/N: Well, I have decided to write an epilogue, since I kind of left poor Raoul hanging… hehe… ^-^

"Daylight, see the dew on the sunflower
And a rose that is fading
Roses wither away
Like the sunflower I yearn to turn my face to the dawn
I am waiting for the day…"
'Memory' from Cats

Raoul's POV

        I sighed quietly as my hands gradually fastening the final suitcase. I was moving to the Americas. Yes, an unlikely place for me to go, but there were too many memories that lay here in Europe. My hand gripped the doorknob, slowly turning it. My eyes widened as I dropped the suitcase to the floor.

        Christine stood there, her innocent eyes staring up at mine, as she apprehensively wrung her hands. She wore a claret dress that fell to her feet, and it was low-cut to some extent, but not to an immodest point. Her breaths were barely audible, but even.

        "Christine?" I breathed faintly.

        She nodded gently, her voice as sweet as honey. "May I come in?"

        Raising an eyebrow, I stepped aside to allow her entry. "May I ask what has brought you here?"

        "I… we need to talk badly, Raoul… I heard you were leaving for the Americas…" Her voice trailed off as took a few small steps inside.

        "How did you know I was leaving?" I inquired, softly closing the door.

        "Meg." She answered with a weak smile.

        "Ah, of course, little Meg always did love to talk…" I laughed lightly, the air about us tense. "Please, have a seat."

        Sitting down, the sapphire settee matched perfectly with her cerulean eyes. "Raoul, first of all, I want to apologize… I should have explained before just rushing off such as I did…" She spoke, her voice a hushed whisper.

         After beginning a small fire, I took a seat beside her. I nodded, intently studying her eyes and facial expressions. She was nervous, no doubt about this. Her eyes seemed somewhat vacant as the energetic flames reflected in them.

        "I do love you, Raoul. You know that right?" Christine questioned, gazing up at me.

        "Yes…" I meekly responded, her voice ringing in my head from a few days before this one. 'I love you, Raoul… but my love is that of a sister… or a very dear friend… I cannot give you the love a wife should…' Hurt glowed in my eyes as I leaned against the furniture.

        "Raoul, it was such a difficult decision… I… Both of you loved me so dearly, and I didn't want to hurt either of you…" She murmured, twirling a chocolate curl with her finger, still blankly staring at the fireplace.

        "But you did." I replied, furrowing my brow.

        She sighed deeply and turned to stare at me. "I'm know, but I didn't want to…" She bit hard upon her lip, a look of contemplation in her eyes. "Raoul, I must tell you everything…"

        And at that moment, Christine quietly explained everything – from when Erik appeared to her as the 'Angel of Music', and when I arrived to that final night in the haunting labyrinth. At certain points, when she spoke, her eyes would either blaze with rapture or sparkle with despondent tears. My eyes widened as she spoke with such vigorous details, as if these memories were engraved in her mind for eternity.

        She elucidated until the fire began to dim, the flames gradually vanishing. As soon as the cinders settled softly in the small fireplace, her lustrous voice came to a halt, her scarlet lips closing.

        Christine rose from her seat, smoothing her crimson skirts. "Now you know, dear Raoul… everything." Displaying a feeble smile through her tear-streaked face, she embraced me tightly, my arms simply holding her for a moment. "Au revoir, my dear friend. Any woman will be marvelously blessed to have you! And you will find her someday, Raoul… but that woman is sadly not myself."

        "Whatever makes you happy, my love, is what should be." Pressing a gentle kiss to her petite hand, I nodded. "Au revoir, Christine… I pray we meet again."

        Her long, raven eyelashes fluttered a few times, as she blinked, slowly turning on her heel to exit the room.

        Turning my back, I sighed, running my hands apologetically over my face. Upon not hearing the door shut, I spun around, making my way towards the door. However, my feet came to a rapid stop. There, tied on the doorknob, was a red scarf. It blew delicately as the wind from outside softly embraced it. Clutching the material, I brought it to my nose, breathing in her warm fragrance. Drawing in a shaky breath, I departed my home, loading the last suitcase into a wooden carriage.

        I stood there, the gusty wind wrapping itself around me as I still grasped the memorable in my hand. Stepping into the carriage, my eyes gazed out the window at a small river, trickling by on its way to the luminous ocean. Leaning my head back on the seat, a single tear rolled down my cheek. Wiping it away with the scarf, I closed my eyes slowly. I had always heard 'in time, wounds would heal.' However, I was somewhat unsure of this prominent statement.

        I would never forget the exquisite girl with the lovely voice, singing blissfully while her aging father merrily played the violin.

        No, I would never forget Christine.