A/N: I have told Phoenix to keep this chapter intact. To split it would not give the feeling I want it to give. I hope that this chapter sheds some light on what is to come. Many hate Meg for what she has done. It was only a matter of time before Angelina and I were caught. Do not blame her for our mistake.

Please read and review as always. The curtain will rise and the stage will be yours.

With much love,

Erik

Chapter 48 – The Truth of the Matter

Angelina looked at the once opulent building in front of her. It had been a grand opera house. Many tales had been told of what had happened the night it had been set aflame.

The Opera Populaire…

Her mother had once sung there – a great diva. It was her last performance on a stage in Paris. She had performed in London, Rome, even in America. But she had never set foot in Paris again. Angelina had always wondered why but every time she would ask, she was met with block after block. Her mother had always found excuses to give her. Even her father, who always confided in her, would not give her a straight answer.

The structure still seemed to be intact. But Angelina knew that the insides would be much different. Everyone knew that it was the crashing of the large crystal chandelier that caused the fire. It began right by the stage and engulfed the opera house before anyone could control it. Luckily, everyone was spared with very few injuries.

My first home was not this opera house. I lived beneath the Opera Populaire.

Angelina looked at the opera house. Her breathing became heavy as she could recall what Erik had told her before he revealed his face to her. She smiled at the thought of him being so trustworthy of her. Angelina would not take back the moment for a hundred years.

Beginning to walk back down the road toward the Opera Garnier, Angelina's thoughts continued to wander…

There had been many talents that had gone through the corridors. I had fallen in love with a beautiful young dancer who turned into the most exquisite singer…

A chill ran up Angelina's spine as she recalled that bit of his tale.

…a beautiful young dancer…

Her eyes grew wide and her pace slowed.

Erik knew my mother. It cannot be…

Racing toward the opera house, Angelina's heart quickened.

Please God, tell me it is not true!

Erik turned quickly as he heard footsteps running down the staircase. He watched as Angelina stood across the lake from him – out of breath.

"I want to know it all."

Erik could not find the words. "Know all of what, Angelina?"

"The young dancer you fell in love with…was it my mother?"

She watched as the sheet music floated into the lake. His eyes grew wide.

"It was…Erik, why did you not…?"

"This was not the way I wanted you to find out."

Turning away from her, he could bare for her to see him. Everything would be laid out in front of her – the obsession, the deaths, the vendetta...

God, please…

"Erik, I want to know."

"Where do I start?"

"From the beginning. I do not want lies. I want answers."

"You are becoming rather demanding…"

"When it is your soul on the line you tend to be."

Erik sighed. The lake seemed so large. Angelina was out of reach. He could not touch her; hold her hand, as he wanted.

"Erik, the beginning…"

"Your mother was brought to the opera house soon after her father died. Monsieur Daae was a great musician. Madam Giry was a good friend of his."

"How old was my mother?"

"I do not remember her age. No more than ten."

Angelina nodded. "Go on."

"Her father had promised to send her an angel of music…"

Angelina's head began to spin. An angel of music.

"…she was so distraught that one night, while she was praying in the chapel, I went to her. I spoke to her. She quickly assumed that I was her angel of music."

"Did you do anything to tell her that you were not?"

Erik shook his head. "No."

"So you coached her, as you did with me?"

"There are so many differences between you and her. There is no comparison."

Erik knew that Angelina would not believe him. It would take a long time before Angelina ever believed him again.

"You coached her?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Until the night she saw me."

"After her performance?"

"She claimed the lead of Hannibal after Senora Giudicelli happily left the spot open."

Much like Brigitte…

"I had heard her even in the depths of the opera house."

"But something happened?"

Erik cringed, not wanting to bring up the boy. He was the reason why he was not with Christine. But he was also the reason why he had Angelina.

"Her childhood sweetheart returned…"

"My father?"

He could not speak and could only nod his head. Erik watched as Angelina began around the lake, slowly.

"Did you hate him?"

"Not at that moment. I chose that time to reveal myself to your mother. There was a large mirror in the dressing room. I used…" Erik stopped, not wanting to reveal any more. "…Angelina, please…"

"Everything, Erik."

"I used magic, illusions, to make your mother feel more comfortable around me. To make it feel as though she were with her angel of music."

"Have you used illusions on me?"

Erik knew he had used one illusion but she was not the only one who saw it.

Lie to her to protect her…lie to her to continue loving her…

"No."

Angelina looked at the rippling lake. It looked like how she felt inside of her. "What happened next?"

"I continued to try and make her love me. Then when she awoke in the morning, she stripped me of my mask. I grew angry and I knew I should not have."

Angelina peered at Erik in shock. How could my mother do that? "She stripped you of your mask?"

"She was curious. I should not have grown angry with her. But I did not want her to see me. She did not need to see what I looked like. I was her angel of music and here I was…" Peeling off his mask and wig, he threw them to the floor. Angelina jumped as rage consumed him. "…angry at her!"

"Erik…"

"And the damn Vicomte! The owners did not listen to me. I ordered them to put Christine in the lead but they denied me my request. So I did what I had to do."

"You killed that man…"

"Joseph Buquet was a horrible man. He was not a man to be trusted."

"So you killed him?"

"I killed him, yes."

Angelina shivered at the thought. There was no remorse in his voice. There was only anger and hatred.

"Then I listened to your father propose to Christine. My Christine…"

Angelina watched him closely as he began toward her.

"I loved her and vowed then and there that I would do anything to have her."

Her eyes widened in realization. "Don Juan…"

"I would spend the next three months writing the opera that would bring Christine back into my arms."

He stopped and watched her small frame tremble. His voice continued to echo off of the walls. Lowering his head, he let his demeanor calm.

"The Masquerade would prove to be my downfall."

"That is why you did not want to go with me."

Nodding his head, Erik continued. "It was a few days after that your father and I would fight for your mother's affections."

"His scar…on his upper arm…"

"There was a swordfight in the middle of the cemetery. My revenge and vendetta grew. My blood boiled at the mere sight of your father."

Angelina could understand his reasoning. Her father challenged his affections for her mother. It was only logical that jealousy would consume him.

"Don Juan would be my last chance to prove to your mother that I loved her."

"From what I understand, it did not go well." She remembered Don Juan and how it felt to be in it. His eyes sparkled as they looked at her. "What is it?"

"I was Don Juan that night you performed."

Her breath caught. "You were…?"

"Yes. Yes, I was."

It was her turn to move forward. Her feet seemed to guide her to him.

"What happened, Erik? What happened after Don Juan?"

"I lost it. I cut the rope to the chandelier and sent it crashing to the stage as I began to drag Christine to my lair." His eyes closed, remembering the next scene of his life. "Your father, of course, came in search of her. I received the upper hand and bound him against the grate. I demanded that your mother needed to marry me or I would kill her one true love."

Tears began to sting Angelina's eyes. She could not believe all that she was hearing. "Erik, you could not be that…"

"Cruel? You have no idea, Angelina."

"Please, Erik, I do not want to…"

"She kissed me." A smile slowly crept onto his face. "She kissed me and set me free."

Angelina watched as his face seemed to glow. He began to move toward her, joining her in her slow pace.

"I let her go, Angelina." He watched her expression change. "I set them free."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I loved her too much to keep her against her will."

"You are not as cruel as you say."

"I condemned myself to solitude to set the one woman I loved free."

Angelina let her tears flow. As she suspected, he did not love her. "You still love my mother then?"

"Yes…" He let the answer linger in the air. Thinking of the kiss that he initiated just days prior, he smiled. Erik loved Angelina and there was no denying it. "…but not the way I used to. She has moved on with her life. I could not stop what her heart wanted."

Moving back toward the organ, Angelina watched as he withdrew a small velvet box from a hidden compartment. Walking back down toward her, he slowly began to open the box.

"Your mother gave me a gift before she left…" Stepping in front of Angelina, he showed her the ring Christine had left with him before she had slipped into the night with Raoul.

"It is a ring."

"It was the ring your father gave to your mother as an engagement promise. I snatched it from her at the Masquerade."

Her fingers gently glided over it, feeling the smoothness of the diamond.

"She left it for me. Some days I think it as beautiful as a star in the sky. There are other days I feel it is a ring of torture – meant to torment me all of my days."

Closing the box, he placed it in Angelina's palm and closed her fingers over it.

"It is yours now."

"Erik…"

"I am no longer a part of that past. I have moved beyond everything I have ever done." Turning away from her, he began back into the darkness where he belonged. "Leave me."

Angelina could feel the soft velvet under her fingers. But the ring seemed more like a dead weight than anything. The ring was a symbol of love between two men and a beautiful dancer.

"Erik, I cannot take this."

"Take it and leave me. I am the Phantom of the Opera. If you stay any longer, you will end up just like your mother."

"She is happy, Erik."

"With someone else…which is where you should be. Go to Monsieur de Wynter."

"I gave him back his ring. I sent it back, Erik."

Everything he willed to move did not. His body did not comply with his mind.

"We are no longer engaged. I am free to see who I wish."

He began to grow angry. She was supposed to be repulsed by what he had done. Yet, she stood in the same exact spot she did many moments ago.

"You must leave."

"I am not running. Not now, not ever."

"Go!" His command echoed off of the walls. The water trembled. Angelina stood steadfast and did not move.

"I am not leaving, Monsieur. You have told me the truth. It is a truth that neither of us can deny."

Erik leaned on the organ for support. He was angry, tired, and frustrated. He wanted to be alone.

"I am the daughter of Raoul de Chagny and Christine de Chagny – whom you know as Christine Daae…"

He would not look at her – his mind willing her away.

"…I am not my father and I am not my mother. Whatever grudge they bear against you I do not hold."

Angelina began toward him, dropping the ring.

"I am not running. I will not run. I will work through the things you have told me. There is a great deal I must still think about. But once I am done, I am returning…to you."

"Leave the Opera Ghost in peace."

"You are not the Opera Ghost!" Her voice echoed as much as his did. "The man I know now is not the Phantom of the Opera. The man my parents knew was. I do not know that man."

"Leave, Angelina."

"Push all you want. I am not leaving." Her foot hit rock – the wood in her ballet slipper making the sound she needed him to hear. It sounded much like Madam Giry's cane.

"Angelina…"

"I want Erik here with me. This man who is standing in front of me belongs in the shadows. Erik is in the light. He has stepped out from the darkness into the light with me. Where is he!"

"He is dead."

"Why? Because you told me the truth?"

"Because you should be running from me! Why do you stay with me when you know every secret I have kept! You have seen my face and yet you do not run. You know I have murdered men, you do not run…"

"I am my own person, Erik. I choose who I want to be with."

"Then choose someone else."

"You would shun me as you have been shunned all of these years!"

Erik's heart broke in two. He did not want to hurt her as so many others had hurt him. The truth was out. She did not run and hide. Angelina had held her own and did not condemn him for his actions.

"Please, Angelina…"

"Do not leave me." Putting a hand on his shoulder, she could feel him tense. "Do not make me leave you…please."

Angelina could hear him sob as the organ supported his weight.

"Everything I am…everything…Angelina, I am a monster."

He slid to the cold rock floor as tears streamed down his cheeks – both marred and unmarred. Without hesitation, she caressed his cheek as he fell into her embrace. Angelina began to rock him back and forth as every emotion Erik had ever felt came to the surface.

"Angelina, please forgive me."

"Shhh…your past is your past. I cannot control the man you were."

"I am that man, Angelina."

"No…" He could feel her smile against him. Her hand continued to caress the deformity he had come to hate with such passion, but it seemed to dull at her touch. "…you are not the Phantom. Erik, you are my angel."

"Just like I was Christine's…"

"You were pretending to be my mother's. I am not my mother. You said that yourself. I believe in angels, Erik. I believe I was sent one."

She continued to hold onto him as he wept. So many barriers were brought down. Many bridges were crossed. Angelina had yet to meet Erik on the other side. What she had found out was still sinking in. But she did not blame Erik. It was odd. Her heart did not allow her to.

As much as she was angry at him, she could not turn him away. Her longing for him was still there. As he lay in her arms, Angelina could feel her heart skip a beat.

Please God, let me find the strength to forgive Erik for what he has done. Many years have passed since the incident between him and my parents. I wish for them to forgive him but I know they will not. I love him. I must find it within me to forgive him. My heart has but I fear the rest of me has not. Guide me.

He watched Angelina sleep upon her bed. It had been a long day for both of them. Erik could still feel his eyes burning from the tears he had shed. His mask and wig were back in place even though she willed them to stay off. The journey back to her bedroom had been full of silence. He feared silence now more than anything in the world. All he wanted was to hear Angelina's voice and he did not.

She will forgive me, over time.

The way his past had been told was not the way it had been planned in his mind. He had been angry – coarse. She had not shed as many tears as he had.

Stupid fool!

Beginning back toward the mirror, Erik listened as Angelina muttered his name. Erik knew she was dreaming of him. He feared of what she was dreaming. Her tossing and turning was not a good sign.

Before he could begin back to his lair, he noticed the de Chagny seal next to the door. Walking over, Erik picked up the letter and noticed the handwriting on the front.

Christine…

His fingers fumbled but undid the seal.

What are you doing!

Erik did not listen. His mind was screaming no while his heart knew something was wrong. Reading the first line, his mind began to follow his heart.

My Beautiful Daughter

Please, read this with the utmost urgency. Meg has written to me, telling me of your involvement with a man in a mask. I am asking you…begging you to come home immediately. Angelina, the man is not safe. I wish I could begin to tell you what he has done to your father and I in this letter, but I cannot. The story is too long and too painful to tell.

Please, come home at once. This is not a request. I want you home, safe where he cannot touch you.

With much love,

Your mother

Erik crumpled the note in his hand – anger filling him. Christine and Raoul would try to take away the one person he loved. He had to find some way to secure that Angelina would not leave him.

His opera…

He did not want it to turn into another Don Juan. Plans needed to be made. Erik quickly looked at Angelina one last time before moving into the lit corridor.

Sliding the mirror shut behind him, he leaned on the mirror for support.

Angelina cannot leave me…

Turning to the mirror, he looked at Angelina sleeping in bed. Placing his hand to the glass, he smiled.

"I love you."