For the rest of the week Paris and Erik spent their life in wedded bliss. Erik worked on his music in the mornings and into the afternoon while Paris worked on unpacking boxes and arranging the furniture properly. And every night Erik would make love to Paris, each relished in the knowledge that they had finally found someone to love them for who they were.
Paris had finished the library and was very pleased with the result. Erik's desk was placed in the left hand corner of the room facing into the library. A large fireplace was situated in the far right hand wall with the bookshelves on either side of it. Paris had laid one of Erik's Persian rugs upon the floor in front of the fireplace and had placed two black arm chairs on one side and a black couch opposite them. It was a nice cozy place to read in. Paris was particularly fond of the large floor to ceiling windows that were situated directly across from the door.
Erik had smiled at his wife when he saw all the work she had put into getting the library all set up. He had treated her to one of his rare home cooked meals that night. Paris had then read out loud to him from one of her favorite books, Victor Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame much to Erik's amusement.
"Have you always been attracted to deformed men who have a penchant for music of some form?" he had asked his tone light and teasing.
"Of course, I always prefer the unfortunate ones. They always tug at my heartstrings," Paris had smiled as she snuggled closer against Erik's side as they stared into the fire.
"I hope you don't become too attached to any other unfortunate men for I fear I may not be responsible for my actions."
Paris had laughed and looked up at her husband. "I don't think any man could take your place, my darling. You are one of a kind and I only give my whole heart to one man."
"That's good to hear," Erik had smiled and kissed her head. They had retreated to the bedroom shortly after that.
Paris now found her self alone in the house working on the boxes in the bedroom that Erik had slept in before they were married. Erik was in the village running some errands. They had been rather surprised to discover that they had been accepted quite readily by the villagers. Some had looked questioningly at Erik's mask but very few had actually asked about it. Those that had had a received a brief answer of "I was burned in a fire as a child," from Erik. No one asked to see his face. In fact, Paris had seen some of the village girls looking at Erik with a certain appreciation in their eyes whenever she and Erik had ventured into town before the wedding. Paris had not been pleased about that and had refused to let Erik leave the house for a week to go into town. She had seen to any purchases herself, much to Erik's confusion.
In the back of Paris' mind she still worried that, even though Erik was now married, the girls would still try to lure him away. As Paris had told them that night of their wedding, he was a very attractive man with his mask on and he was a pleasure to look at. Any girl would be a fool to not see that but Erik was convinced that he was an ugly old man that was lucky to have found one woman to love him for all of him. He refused to believe that he could attract any other women besides his wife.
Now as Paris unpacked the boxes in Erik's former bedroom she pushed all unpleasant thoughts about Erik and the village girls out of her mind. She glanced over at the large black throne-like chair that was sitting in one of the far corners. She needed to remember to get Erik to help her take it into their bedroom. She was just as fond of that chair as Erik was and she felt it belonged in their bedroom. It surprisingly matched their bedroom décor. Christine had surprised the couple with a beautiful bed as a wedding present. She had sheepishly admitted that it was actually from Raoul as well but that she was the one who had wanted to give it to the happy couple. It was a beautiful four posted rich dark mahogany bed. Paris had been overwhelmed by the sheer size of the bed and even Erik had been almost speechless.
Now the bed had beautiful black and red bedding. Those had been from Raoul, who had grinned and said that he doubted they would be used very often since the sheets would most likely be tossed onto the floor. That had caused the bride to blush bright red and the groom to growl and glare at the Vicomte.
Paris smiled when she realized that the Vicomte had been right to a degree. With a contented sigh Paris returned her attention to the boxes in front of her. Opening one up, she lifted the lid and gasped. There inside were all of the Christmas gifts that she had given to Erik. Carefully, she pulled the items out one by one and admired them. She was surprised that they had survived the destruction of Erik's house. Most of his belongings apart from the furniture had been destroyed. Paris had a feeling that Erik had hidden these someplace safe before the destruction. Knowing that Erik cared enough about her to make sure these were safe brought tears to Paris' eyes. She smiled as she set each item aside and opened another box. She would have to put the gifts someplace special for Erik.
Two hours later, Paris had gone through all the boxes in the bedroom and had arranged the room so that it could be used as a guest bedroom. She had put the Christmas presents in the master bedroom for now and would ask Erik where he would like them to be stored. Paris pulled the kerchief off of her head and breathed a sigh of relief when she finished placing the last box down in the cellar. Closing the cellar door behind her Paris headed for the kitchen to get a drink.
Paris took her glass of water into the library. She planned on reading until Erik came home. She was a bit surprised that he wasn't back yet but she knew he probably had his reasons for not coming back. Walking over to the arm chairs she smiled and gave a sound of annoyance when she saw the book sitting on one of the side tables. Erik, Paris had discovered, had a penchant for leaving books lying around when he finished them. For some reason she couldn't get it through his thick skull that books were to be returned to their original place when finished. Sighing Paris picked the book up and looked at it. Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice she read with a slight frown. That was Christine's favorite book. The young singer was always talking about it whenever she wasn't talking about opera or her late father. Paris sank onto the couch as she just stared out the large window. Why would Erik be reading this? Had he lied to her about not wishing he had married Christine? A soft purring sound filled the quiet room causing Paris to jump in surprise. Looking down she gave a small smile. It was Ayesha.
"Hey there, beautiful, how are you, huh? I'm just being foolish. Erik loves me, not Christine. Why can't I get it through my head that he does? This will be our little secret, Ayesha; Erik must never know that I doubted his love for me. Erik probably doesn't even know that this is Christine's favorite book and I'm just being paranoid. Lots of men read this," Paris laughed softly as she stroked the Siamese's soft fur.
Settling more comfortably upon the couch Paris opened the book and began to read. Ayesha settled across Paris' shoulders like a stole and kept her mistress company for the next hour. Paris was so absorbed in the story that she never heard the soft footsteps behind her. Two hands suddenly reached out and covered her eyes while a voice spoke softly to her.
"Guess who?"
Paris sat up straighter and reached up to feel the heads covering her eyes. "Oh, Pierre my darling, you came! I was so afraid you wouldn't! We must be quick though, my ogre of a husband will be home any minute and he must never know that we have been seeing each other, my love!" Paris gasped excitedly.
The hands were ripped away from her eyes in a flash and Paris had to blink rapidly in order to adjust to the sudden return of light.
"Who the hell is Pierre?" a voice growled, dangerously low.
"Pierre? Wha… 'Gasp' you're not Pierre!"
"No, last time I checked I was your ogre of a husband," Erik's eyes burned into his wife's.
"My love, you have returned!" Paris cried out happily as she climbed to her feet and, to Erik's surprise, launched herself over the couch and into his arms. Erik took a step back as his arms caught Paris around the waist as she covered his face with kisses.
"What is going on here?" he demanded. "Who the hell is Pierre, Paris?"
"No one, darling, just a figment of my imagination. You are the only man in my life."
Erik stared into his wife's laughing grey blue eyes before he laughed. "I hate to admit it but you really had me going there for while. I seriously believed you had a secret lover."
"How could I ever have another man in my life when you have taken my whole heart? You are my life, Erik. Never doubt that, I love you and only you." Paris ended her statement with a hard kiss on his mouth.
The kiss would have gone on longer if Ayesha hadn't decided that she was tired of being ignored. She 'meowed' and gently clawed at Erik's leg. Laughing, Erik set his wife down and bent down to scoop the impatient feline up into his arms.
"How are you my darling? Have you been a good girl?"
Ayesha's only response was to purr loudly and rub her head up against Erik's chin. Erik met Paris' eyes over the cat's head and their gazes locked. Leaning down, Erik pressed his lips softly against his wife's.
"I love you," he whispered.
"And I love you." They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments more before Paris spoke again. "So, what took you so long? I expected you back a few hours ago."
"I got stopped by Father Michaels on my way home. Apparently Nadir had made a comment to him that I was a musician and used to be an architect. Father Michaels asked if I would play the church organ for Mass. I have also been asked to commission a new church. The current one is too small now that the village has grown over the past couple of years," Erik explained as he led Paris back to the couch.
"Really? What did you tell him?" Paris asked her excitement evident.
"I told him I would do the architecture work but I wasn't too keen on playing for Mass."
"Would you be paid to do it?"
"He said I would be but you know I'm not overly fond of churches. I was not as comfortable as I seemed on our wedding day. I have never been welcomed into a church and while I was baptized a Catholic I never practiced it. Until I found you I had given up on God."
"You became an atheist?"
Erik nodded. "With my face no church wanted to have anything to do with me. I was a spawn of the devil and I did not belong in a church. Besides, I had never had any reason to believe in God. I had been shunned for my entire life by people who claimed God loved all his creatures. No, I can not play the organ for Mass."
Paris just looked at her husband and clasped his hand between hers in understanding. Looking at his pained expression she knew how much it hurt him to admit that. Erik turned and looked at her and gave a small smile.
"You never told me you were an architect."
"I thought I had. I helped build the Opera House, that's how I knew so much about it and the secret passageways. I also worked as one in Persia for a short while but those are times that I wish to never remember consciously," Erik said, his tone brooked no argument.
Paris nodded and turned to look out the window as the sun began to set. They were both silent for a while before Erik's stomach suddenly growled. Paris broke out into giggles while Erik flushed in embarrassment. Standing up, Erik pulled Paris up off the couch and they headed for the kitchen where they worked together to prepare dinner. Paris looked over at her husband at one point while he was cutting up some vegetables for the stew and smiled. He may have been shunned from society for most of his life but God had obviously just been waiting for the right time to give him his chance at life, real life. And Paris was glad she had been Erik's salvation. With that she leaned over and kissed Erik's cheek before returning to the rolls she was making.