((I own practically nothing in this story except for the plot. Read on!))
At last, a fresh, spring day with new flowers and a pleasing atmosphere for those who wandered over to the City Park. Christine was one of those people, curious about what the new day would bring. Today would be free to coincidence and fate. Whatever happened she would let happen. For once, she would relax and enjoy Mother Nature and the splendors of life.
The lush land seemed to be full of places to rest. There were white stone benches beside bubbling fountains. The cool water in these fountains was a welcome change from the heat. Trees stood tall among the many Parisians who looked up in awe of such fantastic beauty. It was all very refreshing as opposed to the days of winter. Finding a nice little spot that was clean of dirt and most ants, which Christine detested, she settled down on her white sheet and laid her picnic basket beside her.
"Ah... freedom." She said, thinking she was the only one to hear.
Running her fingers through her silky mane she made a pact with herself to enjoy as much of the park as possible. It had been a very long time since she'd visited, and her thoughts had been on the warm rays of the sun and the lush greenery.
To her splendid surprise, she was pestered by an adorable little girl and boy. Their mistress came with them and made conversation with Christine while the children sat with them.
Soon, the children became anxious to play. She waved goodbye and was left to think quietly.
Christine again sighed and found herself feeling very alone. The children's arrival had stirred her social juices, and she was eager for more company. The little girl reminded her of herself when she was young. When she was innocent and unknowing about the truth of the world around her. About the true evils and dangers of this beautiful world. Under her father's watchful eye, she grew into a young lady with the same mentality of a naive child. And because of this, she'd undergone a great ordeal, which changed her appreciation for life and its wonders. Happiness was no longer something she was used to. She now appreciated every day in life as a blessing.
And what was more of a blessing was Erik's decision to liberate her. Erik had been merciful and let her leave, without thinking of his own happiness. What more could she ask from a person who knew nothing of mercy from his own experiences? And she understood, then, why it was so difficult for him to let her go. He hadn't known anyone who wanted him as much as he wanted them. He was giving up his life's dream to free her. The one dream that might've been fulfilled, had she been the angel he'd thought her to be.
She wondered what he was doing now.
"Erik... I will never forget you, try as I might..." were the only words she could muster in thought of him.
"Still thinking of him, are we?"
A smile crept upon her lips and she turned around, flinging herself into the arms of a handsome young man.
Raoul had forgiven Christine for her endless thought of the monster, but had never forgiven the monster himself. And she expected nothing more from him. After all, not only did the Phantom try to demolish his chances of ever seeing her again, but he also tried to take his life. That was a difficult thing to forgive.
"How did you find me?" She exclaimed, surprised at his return so soon, "and why are you here? I thought..."
"Ah, the trip around the world." He took a deep breath of the warm air surrounding them and looked up at the sky, "I canceled it... Again."
And a frivolous laugh escaped from him.
"Again? Why?"
Her face was soon serious, as if she could not comprehend the words he'd just said. Why would he give up his chances to travel for a second time?
"What.." He mimicked her serene attitude, "Are you angry?"
"Why, no..."
"Good! I couldn't stand to be away from you for so long! But tell me, do you still want me?"
"Of course I want you..."
Before she could finish her sentence he interrupted excitedly, "That's wonderful! Swear it to me!"
A smile lit her lips, for he was smiling as well.
"Alright." She laughed, "I swear upon it."
At this, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her high above him as if she were flying.
"You are my reason for staying!"
"I knew it. I love it up here! I could stay here all day with a view like this, if only you could hold me up long enough!" She finished with a giggle and glanced down at his reddening face, "Am I really that heavy?" She gasped playfully.
"No." he lied with a pained smile.
Finally, his strength gave out and he returned her to the ground. The grins on their faces were identical.
"What is all this about, Monsieur le Vicomte?"
He replied, "I have come on business matters."
"Oh, what sort of business?" She replied, to play along as the dumb and oblivious innocent.
"The business of love, my dear friend. I have come with a question that will decide our success in this business."
Christine could suddenly feel the tension in her body rise, and she sighed.
He voiced the words that he'd been thinking to himself for a long time, "Christine, may I have the honor of having you as my wife?"
A swallow could be heard from the soprano's throat. 'Oh, Raoul!, she thought, You always pick the worst of times!'
"Christine, I know you..."
"You never were very good at being romantic, you know!" she laughed, standing and turning away to hide her expression of awkwardness.
"I thought it was romantic!" he replied, standing and trailing her as she wandered into a grove of trees, "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter! At least I asked you."
"Raoul, I really can't answer you right now... the mood isn't right." struggling to find a better excuse she took his hands, "Raoul, perhaps another day."
Raoul's eyes dimmed visibly, as did his smile, but he tried to look happy, "Is there anything I've done?"
"No... I'm sorry, my friend..." she whispered, kissing a row of knuckles and then smiling reassuringly, "It's simply not the right time."
"I will try again." he sighed and released her hands, "Perhaps my timing will be better. Very well, then. You have your wish."
His purpose for coming back had been suddenly squashed before his very eyes and put to the dust. He saw no reason to stay, and so the Vicomte said his farewells and went away, very solemn looking. And Christine felt such guilt in her heart that even the wonderful sunlight peeking through the leaves of the trees could not lift her spirits much.
The journey home was long and tiring. Never had her spirits been so low since the day she'd returned to her old life. She imagined that she'd done the worst thing to Raoul that she possibly could. She'd refused him without refusing him. She'd pretended to give him hope for another try. No doubt he knew exactly what she meant when she tried making excuses for her behavior.
It just wasn't there anymore, and as she approached the door of her house, she realized it the more she thought about it. Her love for him had begun to shrink down to a simple friendly love. There still remained a little of the desire she'd at first experienced, but it was a very meager desire with little impact on their relationship. At times, Christine wondered if he, too, felt the same way. She even dared to think that he had found another woman more suitable for his family title and for himself. And strangely, this did not effect her. But evidently his feelings for her had not changed as she had hoped.
A smile crossed her lips while she turned the key to the front door of her new home. Mamma Valerious had left the house to her, and Christine had been saved by this gift. She had no money left once she'd gone from the Opera and she hadn't accepted Raoul's invitation to his estate. Her home was far too big for a single occupant, but it was cozy, and held memories of all kinds. Even the bitter memories were sweet in her mind. Anything that involved Mamma Valerious was a comforting recollection.
Mamma's maid, Lillian, came to help immediately. Lillian was her only friend now, and while Raoul had been away she'd spent many hours talking with her and never losing interest. For once, Christine could have a decent conversation with someone whose background was as simple as hers. Lillian had a lovely family somewhere in Italy. That wasn't where she originated from, but it had always been a dream of theirs to visit Venice, Italy. She chose to stay put where she was, to serve her mistress until her dying days and then to serve her adopted daughter also.
Lillian was very pretty, despite the way she dressed. It was expected of a maid to wear simple clothing, especially for working. She had deep, ebony curls and fair but slightly warm skin tones, as well as a voluptuous figure. Not at all the kind of maid Christine had expected. Christine even had days when she'd envy Lillian for her looks. But she remembered that if she envied another, she'd have to accept the whole package, not just what she envied. Would she like to be a maid? For a long time she pondered that, but it soon came to be a no. Freedom was her ultimate preference.
The musty air of the household was for once a welcome scent. Today she felt appreciative of everything, even those little annoyances. She placed the picnic basket on the table along with the white sheet and then made her way up to her room.
A hot bath awaited her, to her surprise, and she sent down a word of thanks to Lillian, who was more than glad to have prepared it for her. The bath water was so hot that tiny bubbles of hot air rose to the top. Lillian had probably meant it to be so hot; thinking Christine would not be back for a while.
Christine decided that she would wait a bit for the water to cool down, and this would give her a bit of time to herself. With a satisfied smile, she threw herself onto her bed and smothered her face in the sheets. She had already changed into a thin, cotton gown, which was more for meandering around the house in. Her hairpins had been tossed aside and she gave her scalp a good, rough massaging to loosen her hair. Her shoes laid in a mess in the corner where she usually threw her shoes. And nothing was more pleasing than to get rid of her stockings. She was relieved to be only wearing one layer, because the spring air was particularly hot that week, and it felt like summer. She liked most seasons.
All except for winter. Her father had passed away during winter. And she had left Erik near the end of winter. Mamma Valerious' husband had fallen ill in the middle of winter, and her death was also during that time years later. Christine wondered if there was a curse upon that terrible season.
"M'lady." Lillian peeked into her room and smiled to find her relaxing, "You've a visitor."
A visitor? Who on earth...
Raoul...
Most likely coming back to ask her what had gotten into her. He had a temper, though childish as it was, that would eventually wear her down. The last thing she wanted to do with fight with him.
"Send him in..." she replied.
"As you wish, mistress." and Lillian went away.
Upon returning she brought with her a darkly dressed man, who wore an astrakhan cap and a weak smile on his face.
"Miss Daae. I am glad to see you well." he muttered, noticing her state of dress, "Perhaps, when you are better dressed?"
Christine blushed slightly behind the covers, and then nodded. Raoul had seen her all sorts of ways, mostly because she had gotten into trouble of some sort. But Nadir, who she barely knew, was not used to seeing her in anything but a thick dress.
This was, needless to say, not lady like at all, despite her efforts to look somewhat... modest.
She was very embarassed, and chose the most covering dress. A high neck collar with long sleeves to the wrists, form fitting but very modest. It made her feel a bit better about her impression upon him, but it caused her to sweat more than she could bear. Again, a rap at the door.
"Good..." she spoke quietly to herself, "He decided to knock..."
She took a deep breath to compose herself and opened the door once more, "Ah, Monsieur Khan. Please, only stay for a moment, I have other things I planned to do."
Nadir smiled, lacking emotion, and then stepped in rather casually. He seemed to have no manners concerning being in a lady's presence, but then, he never had been very expressive.
"What are you here for?" she tried to be as polite as could be.
She knew him very little.
One never knew what the Persian would do next. But, then again, he had risked his life to save her own.
In this way, he resembled Erik very much.
So much had happened in so little time the night she left Erik... It was... all a blur! As if it was a nightmare from her childhood. Faded and missing some parts, but still just as disturbing.
((continued in the next chapter with her last memory of Erik))