Chapter Nine - Hope To Ashes
Alone in the dark passageway, Christine struggled to fasten the bodice of her dress and pulled her cloak close around her shaking body.
Her skin was still burning from his kiss and his touch, yet he had so coldly pulled her from his bed and ordered her to leave. To leave him once again.
That night when he'd sent her away with Raoul, she'd felt as if her heart had died. Now, it seemed as if her soul would die, too.
At least she'd had Raoul, then. Now, she could not return to him.
She had no candle and slowly felt her way along the narrow hall, her hand pressed to the cold, crumbling walls for support and guidance.
When she emerged near the chapel steps, she found Monsieur Reyer waiting for her.
She hoped the old gentleman would not notice her rumpled gown, her tangled hair.
If Reyer noticed, he said nothing of it as he took her arm and led her back up the shallow stone steps.
"Madame, your husband was here. He is looking for you."
Christine froze. Of course, Raoul would think to inquire after her at the Opera Populaire. She had so few friends in Paris...it was obvious to look for her at the theatre,
"Did you speak to him?"
"He spoke to me. But I told him I had not seen you at all. The managers assumed you had left."
"Thank you, Monsieur Reyer"
"Christine, child, it's not for me to interfere in...with whatever has happened between you and husband."
At the word husband, Christine's tears could no longer be held in check. Looking away from the music director, she covered her face with her hands and let herself weep.
She had gone in search of her soul's greatest need and found only bitterness, only kisses that turned hope to ashes. She wanted to run back to him, to throw herself at his feet and beg for his forgiveness. A forgiveness she was certain he was no longer capable of giving.
Now, she had nowhere to go. She could not go back to the house on the Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honore. Even if Raoul would take her back, she would not return to him.
She faced Monsieur Reyer again, not caring enough to wipe away the tears.
"Monsieur," she said in a fragile whisper, "I have no where to go. Please, help me."
