"Come my friend."

Nadir took Raoul by the arm, dragging him away from Christine with what was left of the strength in his old arms. Christine picked up the Vicomte de Chagny's wet clothes, and draped them over his arm. He grabbed her hand as she did so, and told her to wait. His hand sunk into the left jacket pocket, and withdrawing from there the ruby engagement ring, he handed it to her.

"I want this back when you give me your wedding invitation in person." He said with determination. "Do not forget."

I watched as she squeezed the bauble tightly in the palm of her hand, and tilted her head in a small nod. Oddly saddened, I felt compelled to stare.

"Erik." The boy said, "Promise me you'll allow her to deliver the invitation by hand?"

I nodded once.

My compliance seemed to have comforted him more than Christine's meek agreement; he nodded to himself quite nervously, and then with almost an urgent sense of departure, he leapt into the boat. One would have found it difficult to conceive that this was the same lad who'd been lying unconscious on my couch just an hour ago.

Nadir kissed Christine's hand politely and followed after Raoul. As the boy picked up the oar, Nadir turned to me and smiled. As congratulatory as his smile was, I found it uneasy to return the greeting.

They rowed away slowly, and so she waited until they were out of hearing distance before turning around and taking my hand in hers. Her face was flushed, exhilarated.

"Come, Erik," She said, and pulled me towards her room.


She had never meant to return. It had crossed my mind that perhaps she would not keep her word to Raoul, but to not do so would prove that she were not the Christine I'd believed her to be. That was to say, if she had chosen the boy instead, would she never come to deliver the invitation to me?

Days passed, then weeks. I waited patiently for her to bring up the time of day when she would deliver the message to the Vicomte by hand. I told her that I did not plan to set a date for the wedding until she wrote a mock invitation. She knew there was no one to invite, really. Except for perhaps Nadir and—Raoul. I watched with tremendous unease as she made herself comfortable about my house; she seemed to have forgotten everything else. I began to see her as a flower child lost in a much distorted fantasy.

Finally, taking into consideration my own promise and the fact that I did not want her to conceive before we were married, I ordered her to deliver that invitation.

She looked at me as if she had not heard correctly.

"N-now?"

"Of course," I said, "How much longer must you wait?"

She was sitting down on the couch and started to fidget with the lace on her skirt nervously. "I—I don't think I feel very well this week. Perhaps the following Sunday?"

"Perhaps you would like to wait until you are with child. Would that be better timing?

She bit her lip and turned her face away from me.

"Why are you so afraid? Is it the thought of seeing him which scares you, or the thought of having to return to me afterwards?"

She closed her eyes and clasped her head in her hands. "Please don't make me!"

"I promised him too, Christine."

I poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her gently. She took it from me and sipped it slowly with her timid lips. She took several sips and looked up.

"What kind of tea is this?"

"Green."

"It tastes different."

"Add honey."

She took another sip and set the cup down. I watched her lean back in to the couch and close her eyes. She seemed to be thinking about something.

"Have you enjoyed your stay here Christine?"

She nodded.

"Do you have any regrets, Christine?"

She shook her head.

"How many times have you thought of Raoul, Christine."

She opened her eyes.

"The truth, Christine."

She shook her head again.

"You don't know?"

She nodded.

"But you lie to me, Christine."

"I feel lightheaded, Erik." She stood unsteadily, but her knees gave away and she fell back into the couch. She began to rub her temples gingerly with her fingertips.

I pulled her face close to mine and squeezed her jaw in my hands. Her eyes were unfocused. "Why won't you go back to Raoul, Christine."

"What is in that tea, Erik?"

"Something that won't allow you to lie to me." I kissed her puckered lips. "Now tell me, my dear. Why won't you keep your promise to him?"

"I think I'm with child, Erik."

That evening, Raoul came to his door looking tattered and disheveled in his unevenly buttoned shirtand hair that hadn't been combed for days. I placed Christine into his arms and motioned for him to be silent. She was sleeping, and as the mother of his child, she should not be woken as she dreamed.