The carriage came to a halt late the next morning. Christine had given up trying to look out the window, even when light came, since the rain still poured in heavy sheets outside. They had not spoken since late last night, and the tension between them was becoming almost too much to bear. That was why it was a terrible shock when Christine alighted from the carriage and found herself not outside of a quaint place to rest comfortably, but a train station.
"Raoul?"
"We must go North, Christine, far North to escape."
Christine frowned, tears in her eyes. "Escape? Escape what? What are you running from, Raoul?"
"Christine, Christine, you must know as much as I do! He will find us, he always finds us. And then he will take you away from me and down, down into that horrible hell of a cellar and I don't know if I can find you again, not without Madame Giry!" Raoul's rambling made Christine very nervous. Though she would have liked to stay, to turn around and go some place warm and quiet, she did not want to upset him any more. She attributed his nervous eyes and jittery manner to the terrible night they had just had.
She bowed her head. "Of course, Raoul. Shall we board?"
Erik didn't know what to do.
He couldn't see living here now, not with the memories of Christine walking across every room, sitting in every chair, singing in every shadow. And now that what seemed like the whole of Paris knew how to reach his house by the lake, it would not be safe to live there. They all thought him dead, and it would not do to be jumping up at every noise, concerned that some interested patron would choose to stumble into the wrong part of the Opera House.
The very same memories of Christine that tortured him, however, were the only things that were making him want to stay. If he were to leave, he would have nothing to remind him of her. She wouldn't be in any chairs, in any rooms, and her sweet voice wouldn't resonate off of any walls. How could he leave the last place he had seen her, the places and things she had touched? What if she came back? How would she be able to find him?
But she wasn't coming back, and he would just have to get used to that. And since she was not coming back, if he were to leave, what if he were to forget her? He could not promise that he wouldn't- his own mother's face was now erased from his memory, the only recollection he had was the sound of her crying as she handed him his very first mask. Erik's memory often chose to erase the pain, and nothing had ever cut him as deeply as Christine had last night. How could he leave the only reminders he had of her?
So he stood, rooted to the spot. He knew he'd make a decision sooner or later. After all, this wasn't the first time he had met with an angry crowd of people. And believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he'd had his heart broken.