I had hoped that I would wake up feeling better with a clear head. But I didn't.
My head was pounding. And my eyes burned from too much crying. Worst of all, I knew that I had no choice, that I had to collect up my clothes and leave this place before Erik became violent towards me again. And after yesterday, I had no doubt that more violence from him would be inevitable. And I had to protect myself.
Donned in a somber gray morning suit, I began to pack my valise.
There was a soft knock on the door.
My heart trembled in fear.
"Yes?"
"Angelica," the Phantom called. "I have a surprise for you, my dear. Could you possibly let me in?"
What were the Phantom's plans for me now? Was he going to murder me with his Punjab Lasso?
No matter what I had to face, I was determined not to cower before him in fear. All I had done was to try to show him some affection. If I was to die for that, then so be it.
Steeling my nerve, I tentatively opened the door.
Erik was quite handsomely garbed in a red striped silk and velvet smoking jacket, dark pants and a black mask. His hair was tussled as if he has just awakened. He was holding a tray of assorted rolls and several small pots of assorted jams. The smell of them made my stomach growl loudly.
"Oh, you're already dressed!" he started. "I was hoping to serve you breakfast in bed."
"Wh-what?"
"Breakfast...I don't believe you ate anything at all yesterday. I'm sure you must be starved."
"Well..." I hesitated, feeling my resolve melt.
"Angelica, what are you doing!" Erik nodded toward the half-packed valise on the bed.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words, but decided that there was no point in delaying what must be.
"I didn't want to impose my presence upon you any longer," I stated quietly.
There was a moment of tense silence.
"Come on into the dining room, child. We can hardly have breakfast here with all of these clothes strewn about."
"No, I suppose not."
While my instinct told me that I should try to leave without delay, hunger dictated over common sense. We sat at the ridiculously large dining table in a room empty of any other décor. Although the food was delicious, our time together was quiet and awkward. However, I had to admit that I was feeling calmer on a full stomach.
"So what is this nonsense about your imposing upon me?" Erik finally asked.
"Our opera is complete," I shrugged, with an air of nonchalance. "After all the Song of the Beast was what we were having the most trouble with. That's done now."
"But we still have to get the opera to be performed..."
"I don't need to stay here in order for that to happen."
"That's where you are wrong, Angelica. Indeed, this may be the hardest task before us." Erik pushed his plate away and explained. "While you have just as much talent as any man, perhaps more than most, it will not be easy to convince those idiot managers to take on your opera, even with my pseudonym serving as co-author. I've had a few ideas on the subject, but they all require intricate planning and timing. I will need you to carry out my instructions in order to see this through."
"You don't need to concern yourself with selling the opera. I'll do it myself," I replied coldly.
"No!" he argued, throwing his napkin down on the table. "I'll be damned if I'm going to see Beauty and the Beast all dusty and rotting away in some dilapidated boarding house! We must convince the management to take it right away or else it may never come to fruition!"
"Very well, but must I stay here? Can't I follow your instructions from elsewhere?"
"Where would you go? Surely, that horrid landlady of yours has rented out your room by now."
"That needn't concern you."
Erik sighed with annoyance.
"I won't have you living on the streets! Let's be honest, Angelica. You were quite content to stay here up until this morning. While I realize that my home is rather dark and secluded, I dare say that you have more comforts now than you did in that wretched hovel you were staying in. And this is not about any imposition or about our opera. It's about what happened between us yesterday, isn't it?"
I couldn't answer. I didn't have the words to express all of my heartache.
"My dear, sometimes I do have a horrid temper as I'm sure you've noticed. I treated you abominably. Truly, I cannot apologize enough. Please, can't we just forget about yesterday?"
As if I could ever forget it...
Before he had grabbed my throat...before he had treated me so cruelly...I was certain that he had returned my feelings. I could still recall all too well how his kisses felt upon my cheek. How he had held me so tightly that I had to struggle for breath. I had never felt so alive and excited.
Of course, I reasoned with myself, despite his strangeness, it was only natural for him to give in to simple lust. Especially since I had gone out of my way to appear attractive to him. Perhaps it had meant nothing to him at all.
And I felt ill as I realized why he wanted to forget our caresses. Why he had treated me so horribly. Because his heart was breaking with rage when he looked at me and did not see Christine. I could never be Christine.
Indeed, I could hardly be more unlike her. Whereas she had dark brown hair and blue eyes, I was blond and green-eyed. She was as slim and delicate as a flower while my embarrassingly lush curves attracted unwarranted attention from rude men on the city streets. Christine was one of the most admired operatic stars of Paris while any alley cat could hold a tune better than me. Even Erik could not restrain his grimaces whenever I would attempt to sing one of my lyrics. In comparison with his ex-lover, I was hopelessly inadequate.
"I cannot imagine why you would want me to stay here, Erik," I uttered sadly.
He rose from his chair and stood before me, taking my hands and holding them gently.
"My dear, how can I make you understand? While I am a great deal older than you...old enough to be your father, in fact...in many areas of life, I am completely inexperienced. I am not accustomed to being in close quarters with other people. Why, the only woman I have ever lived with was my mother; and she couldn't bear the sight of me. All of my life, I have been a constant source of abuse and ridicule by others. Therefore, I only really feel comfortable by myself."
"All of the more reason I should go," I persisted.
"But you're different, my dear. Perhaps it is your youth and ambition, I cannot say. But as we have been working together on this opera, I have been so lost in our project that I sometimes could forget...the past...who I am...everything. But as for any sort of intimacy or matters of the heart..."
"Please don't go on," I begged, not wanting to hear his rejection of me.
Erik continued as if he hadn't heard me. "...I am afraid that I am hopelessly inept. But I do so value your company, Angelica."
"Truly?"
"Over the last few months, I have often thought that perhaps it was destiny which brought you to the performance that night. You see, my child, afterwards..." There was a catch in his voice which broke my heart. "After the pathetic spectacle which followed...I felt so cold and lonely...as if I were a breathing corpse...and my life had been wrested away from me..." He began to sob. "And I wanted to die...I tried to die..."
Suddenly, Erik collapsed onto his knees before me, clinging to my skirts. He began to sob with such pain and anger that he barely sounded human at all. It was as if he were more wounded animal than a man. Never had I heard such remorse and pain in my life. I hoped to never hear such again...ever...
When I realized the true depths of Erik's miserable existence, worse than I had ever imagined, I could not restrainthe tears freely flowing down my cheeks. My own pain seemed to meld into his. And I knew that even if I left that house, those cries would forever haunt me.
Kneeling down beside him, I held him close to me, stroking his hair and rocking him back and forth as if he were a lost child.
"Please don't cry, Erik..." I begged of him. "I can't bear it...I'll stay...I'll stay..."
