That night, Satine packed up her things at The Harlequin after waiting a full three minutes since Christian and Ariana had left together. She put on her coat, which had belonged to her father (she'd wear anything to make herself seem like the man she was disguising as), and departed from the bar, head down. She began to cross the cobblestone road, when suddenly, a car's headlights shone on her as the vehicle came rushing down the street. It was inches away now, and she was frozen in utter fear.

And then... it stopped. The lights still gleamed brightly in her face, and once she had shielded her eyes enough to be able to look into the front window of the car, she realized the mistake she had made. Sitting in the driver's seat of the old Ford was Christian, and beside him, on the passenger's side, was Ariana, both of them wearing absolutely shocked expressions. "Satine?" Christian hollered. "Satine!" He jumped out of the car without opening the door, while Ariana stayed put, mouth wide open. He ran after his love, chased her down the streets of Paris until his breath was ragged, but the pain in his chest now was no match for the months and months of pain he had experienced after her death. What if she was still alive? What if he had finally found his love?

He followed her until, at last, she reached a dead-end alley, and had to turn around. He ran to her and ripped off her black cap, letting her red hair spill down onto her shoulders, and she wailed in frustration.

"Satine... Satine... Satine..." He couldn't help repeating her name, and he didn't know what part of her to touch, to kiss. He didn't know what to tell her. Most of all, what he didn't know was everything there was to know. He had so many questions, but she didn't seem willing to answer them.

"Christian! I've got to go! They're coming to -"

"No. You can't leave. I've found you, my darling!"

"I can't be your darling anymore! I have a life now! I have work!"

"Will you answer my question, then? One and only one question?"

"I would love to answer so many more," she breathed, mirroring his passion for the first time since their reunion, but it was quickly gone. "I can't, though. One, Christian, and then I've got to go, or they'll find me here with you!"

Christian kissed her cheek, taking in her smell, that wonderful feminine aroma she projected that was the sole reason he had kept her clothes in his closet all this time. "My question is... do you love me still?"

Satine had been expecting something more demanding than this, perhaps "Why did you leave?" or "Who will find you here with me?" This was something much simpler to answer. "Christian... I love you now, just as I have and will always love you. You are the one person who I wish I could be with, and yet, you are the one person whom I must avoid like the plague, or I will be killed."

Christian laughed gleefully. "You were already killed once, by your own disease, and yet here you are again. Couldn't it be that if they murdered you, whoever they are, you could just come back again, like you have just done?"

Satine's eyes became hollow and sad. "I've never died, Christian. It was all an act. Oh, I wish I could explain, but I can't!"

Christian sat down on an old cardboard box full of ancient newspapers that had been shoved into the corner of the alleyway. "If you must go now, Satine, I want you to know that whenever you can, you should be at my home with me. I'm so afraid of living without you. So dreadfully afraid. Don't break my heart again. If they come to kill you, I will protect you. That is my word as a gentleman."

Satine opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, she fainted on the spot, and Christian leapt to his feet just in time to catch her in his arms. He propped her up against him so that it looked as if she were standing, and began to walk with her, his head half-tipped against her shoulder to inhale her fragrance.