Helene sat across the breakfast table from her parents. Philippe had returned to Paris once he learned that his younger brother was safe and was staying at the house until his own residence could be re-opened.
She sighed wearily as she glanced at the familiar faces.
A few more hours…a few long hours and then you can return to him.
Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to have a normal life with Erik, to see him seated across from her in a sunlit room.
"All I ever wanted was to be human," he'd said, "I wanted a normal life, a wife who would love me…instead, I lived in the shadows ."
And you know that cannot be. Accept what you have and be content.
"I've received a letter from Raoul," her mother was saying, "he is coming back to Paris with his wife. He writes that he now believes that the danger to her has passed…whatever that means…and that he feels it is safe for them to come home."
Helene's hand knotted into a fist around her napkin.
Erik mustn't know…he must not know!
"I trust you will be here, Helene,", her father added, "to welcome your brother and his bride."
She saw her parents exchange looks with each other.
"Of course, I will," she responded with a forced smile.
When she had excused herself from the table, she could not help overhearing them.
"I'm worried about your sister," her father was saying, "these absences of hers are growing longer and more frequent. I can't imagine where she goes."
Above the hushed clink of the silverware, she heard Philippe answering him.
"She's probably taken a lover. No doubt he's a married man or someone entirely unsuitable. I don't like that idea any more than I like the idea of Raoul marrying a chorus girl. But Helene is a grown woman and a widow. There's nothing to be done about it."
She leaned against the carved newel-post of the stairs.
Yes, brother…I have taken a lover. And you would consider him far worse than unsuitable.
She walked back into the room, giving no sign that she had heard their words about her.
"I will be here when Raoul comes," she told them, "but once he is home, I mean to return to Sicily. I've been away from Theo's estates for too long."
That night, she lay in Erik's arms. Her body was exhausted from their love-making and she wanted only to rest.
"Erik, I want to stay here with you. I've told my family that I will be leaving for Sicily soon. But I am going to stay with you, if you will let."
"If I will let you," he answered, sitting up, "Helene, this is no place for you. It's nothing but a cellar beneath a ruin."
As sore and weary as she was, she sat and put her arms around him.
"Erik, you know that doesn't matter to me. I only want to be near you. I die a little each time I leave you."
"Helene, Helene, how much deeper in your debt would you place me? You have yourself to me, heart and soul and body. And I give you nothing in return."
As he spoke, he idly twined his fingers in her hair.
"If you won't let me stay here, we could go to Sicily."
He closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet carnation perfume she was fond of.
Her offer was so tempting. Many evenings, she had spoken to him of the lemon and almond groves, the smoky, sulfurous heights of Etna, the dark town of Enna where Hades had come to Persephone, the shimmering ribbon of water flowing through the Alcantara Gorge…
What would it be like to see those place with her to guide him?
But how long had it been since he'd left the opera house for more than a few furtive hours? How long since his flight from Persia?
He could not do it again.
"I can't, Helene…"
"Then I will stay here with you."
Without warning, she pulled him back down with her.
"Erik, take me again. But be gentle this time," she said with a smile.
"I thought you were tired."
"That's why I asked you to be gentle," she laughed.