Erik was amazed at the change their arrangement had caused in Christine. It was a brilliant plan that couldn't have arrived at a better time. Christine had been teetering dangerously close to death. A few more days and she would have fallen over the edge. But all that was changed now. Over the past few weeks Erik saw the beautiful girl he had known at the Opera Populaire emerging from her self-imposed prison and isolation. She wore daisies in her dark curls and her cheeks had resumed their rosy complexion. Erik often said that her sparkling eyes made the stars jealous, making a shy smile creep across her face and her cheeks to flush a deep red. She no longer moped sadly around the house, but smiled brightly wherever she went. Their trips to the village, which were once dismal journeys, had become joyous adventures. During the long rides, Erik would chide Christine for chattering incessantly, but he secretly treasured every word that escaped her lips. At home, Christine spent most of her daytime hours outdoors, reading or watching the soft, billowy clouds roll by.

She was laying in the grass at that very moment, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers that floated on the breeze. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of sunlight fill her entire body. Erik watched her through the tiny window in his bedroom. His thoughts drifted off towards the future, their future. They would be married soon enough. He was sure that he could find a priest willing to perform the ceremony. He knew that Christine would adore a ceremony outside. Under the light of the silver moon, they would pledge their unending love to one another. Then the tiny room that Christine called her own would become the nursery. Erik imagined placing his baby girl in a little white bassinet. A sweet little girl who would have her mother's striking beauty, and when she grew he would teach her to sing just like her mother. Erik would be an indulgent father, showering her with the love and compassion that he had never had, not even from his own mother. Then one day, he could take his family back to Paris. His daughter would be the finest singer the Opera Populaire had ever known. He would be able to walk down the street with pride; a beautiful wife on his arm and a lovely young daughter sought out by innumerous suitors. Yes, his family would be the envy of Paris's finest society.

Erik was pulled from his thoughts by a sound that caused his heart to beat faster. At first he was sure that his ears were deceiving him, simply echoing with memories of the past. It couldn't be possible. Erik stood and slowly leaned in closer his window. What he saw filled his soul with elation. Christine was singing! If Erik was able to hear only one sound for the rest of his life he would choose Christine's voice at that moment. She sang with such beauty and clarity that it brought Erik to the verge of tears. He was certain now that things were finally going his way. Their cozy little cottage was already beginning to feel like home. Erik had brought many of the furnishings from his house by the lake along with him, but he had promised Christine that he would take her to town and she could purchase a few things of her own. Perhaps a woman's touch could brighten up their home a bit.

Erik crossed the dining room and entered the kitchen. He wiped the crumbs of bread off of the table and swept the floor. He placed some fresh picked fruit in a wooden bowl and set it out on the table. He picked up a large red apple and rubbed it on his shirt. He took a bite, savoring the sweet taste as he stood in front of the stove. He was still trying to decide what to prepare for dinner when Christine burst inside, laughing loudly. Erik leaned over to peek into the entrance, grabbing hold of the door molding for support. To his surprise, Christine was standing in the doorway, dripping wet. She leaned backwards against the door, causing it to close with a loud bang, and collapsed into a nearby chair.

"Oh Erik, don't you just love the spring rain?" she asked, out of breath. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and began to ring out the water, "I was sitting outside, singing to myself and all the sudden it just started coming down! I swear those clouds must have all gathered in a second. Come sit with me," she said with a quiet but excited voice, patting the seat of the chair next to her, "I love to listen to the rain falling on the roof and windows."

Erik smiled and set his half-eaten apple on the table as he lowered himself into the chair next to her, his eyes intently fixed on Christine's face. Christine closed her eyes, savoring the sound of the fat droplets falling all around her. A rumble of thunder gently shook the house. A slight smile graced Christine's lips and she began to hum softly. The water that weighed down her curls against her face seemed to make her smooth white skin and full lips even more captivating. Erik found it strange how every time he saw her, she looked more beautiful to him. He brought his face in close to hers and began to sing.

"You alone can make my song take flight."

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she didn't turn away. She was lost in the music of the rain and the sweet, seductive sound of Erik's voice. He slowly pulled her closer to him to caress her lips with a kiss…