A/N: Boy, you guys must really like conflict, because you were all chomping at the bit to get to the down and dirty confrontation between Christine and Raoul. Well, here it is, and by the way, there is a little bonus for our dear Vicomte included. Let's just say he gets what he deserves for talking "smack" about our beloved Erik. Something I have wanted to do to him since I first saw the movie. You will see! (Evil cackle ensues)

lafemme540: Thank you and welcome. I will endeavor in every chapter to ensure that this story does in fact become one of your favorites.

phantomann: Since you begged so shamelessly, this extra post tonight is just for you. You will notice that I am posting at 11:30 PM CDT, so technically it is still arriving in day on which you requested it. Yay! You caught the twilight thing! I was so hoping someone would. That is why I love having you as a reader so much. Erik mentions that Christine loves twilight, and now we know why – because it reminds her of Erik!

Pertie: I appreciate the compliment regarding my writing style. I certainly try to make it "flow" as you said. I am glad you felt I was successful in my attempt.

diveprincess: Thank you! Welcome to the fic. Glad you are enjoying it, because I am enjoying writing it.

erikfan: Oh no! We have lost erikfan. Come back, beloved reviewer. We miss you!

Twinkle22: They are not going to be very nice to each other, I can promise you that. Raoul will get his just reward for his general sliminess in this chapter.

Jema Moda: (a.k.a. eriksbeloved) Reviewing under another name, posting reviews twice in one chapter, pressuring your poor author who is typing her fingers to the bone – Shame on you! But it is okay because I love it. Review to your heart's content. You can review ten times a chapter if you want. But remember, Jema dear, patience is a virtue, good things come to those who wait, yada yada yada...and all those other proverbial admonishments to the impatient. (Wink)

xo-little-lotte-xo: Welcome and thanks! Glad you like it. Yes, I know the last chapter was a little long, but my chapters tend to vary a lot in length because I prefer to base them on segments of related action, rather than a set number of words. It is just part of my quirky writing style I guess, so bear with me. I will try and make them more even in the future.

Ch. 9 – A Bitter End (Don't let the chapter title fool you. Yes, this chapter is the end of something, but it is not the end of the fic by any means.)

Despite how much he dreaded the inevitable confrontation to follow, as he approached Christine in the garden Raoul could not help but notice once again how lovely she appeared in the gentle light of the setting sun.

"You're looking much better, darling." He managed a weak smile as he bent to kiss Christine's forehead, but she turned away at the last second so that his lips met only the top her head.

"Let's not bother to pretend that is all is well tonight, Raoul," Christine replied, "It wearies me."

He sighed heavily and sat down beside her on the bench. "Is there something you wish to discuss, my dear?"

"You lied to me," she said quietly.

He made no attempt to deny it, sensing it would be useless to try. "Yes."

She turned to face him, searching his eyes. "Why?"

"Darling, I was trying to protect you." Raoul reached out a hand to touch her face, but Christine pushed it away, standing abruptly.

"To protect me or to protect yourself? You knew that I would never marry you knowing he was alive." She was at last beginning to understand all that her husband was capable of in the name of holding onto that which he believed to be his, and her accusation was blatant.

Raoul rose slowly, his eyes pleading. "Please, darling, I knew you would never be happy with him. You deserved so much more than he could ever hope to give you. The man is a lunatic. He is a murderer, a monster, Christine!"

Without warning, her hand struck him hard across the cheek. "Don't you ever call him that again," she hissed.

Raoul stared at her in surprise, his eyes still watering from the blow.

Anger, however, quickly overcame his momentary shock and his face colored with disgust. "Even now you defend him," he spat incredulously. "After all I have given you and after all he has done, still you pine for him like a bitch dog in heat."

Her hand flew up to strike him again, but he caught it this time before it could make contact with his skin. "Do not pretend to be so scandalized, my dear. You forget I saw you that night on the stage with your lover," he snarled into her ear.

She turned abruptly to leave him, but he gripped her arm roughly and spun her around to face him, shaking her in his wounded anguish. "I have heard you in your dreams, Christine. Calling out his name when you are lying in my arms!" His voice now was raw with pain.

"Let me go." She spoke the words through her clenched teeth, and he thrust her from him.

Christine stepped back, eyes flashing. "At least I was honest with you. I warned you long before we were married that my heart would always belong to another. But even then you could not bear to lose, not to him. I became no more than the spoils of war in the battle between his shadow and your bruised ego!"

Her words cut him like a knife and all the air fled from his lungs. Was it true? He wondered fleetingly. Certainly his pride had suffered a blow at the idea that Christine would choose a murdering maniac with half a face over him. Had marrying her merely been the ultimate victory over the rival he loathed? Perhaps in part, but that had most definitely not been the only reason. He adored everything about Christine, every part of her except the part that belonged to her Angel. That part of her he feared he would never truly understand.

His anger faded as quickly as it had come and his shoulders slumped like that of a soldier who had taken a mortal wound. "Christine," he pleaded, "Please believe me. I have loved you since we were children. I know I haven't done everything right. I...I have hurt you and I have behaved like a...like a jealous fool. But you must know how I adore you." His eyes begged for her understanding, for her forgiveness.

Christine kept the distance between them, but her face softened. "It was wrong of me to accept your love when I knew I could never truly return it. I am truly sorry for how I have hurt you, Raoul." She reached out and gently touched his cheek. "It has worn heavily on both of us, living this lie," she said quietly.

Raoul sensed somehow that the final straining thread holding together their tattered marriage had snapped at last. He lowered his head in defeat. "What happens now, Christine?" he asked softly.

She smiled gently. "Now? Now we give each other the chance to find the happiness that we could never find together."

Tears filled Raoul's eyes at the sudden radiance that lit her face. Though it killed him to admit it, the closer he came to releasing her, the brighter she seemed to shine. Standing there acknowledging the end of their marriage, she looked happier than she had on their wedding day. In the end, it was that look of joy and excitement, as if she were a bird about to be released from its cage that forced him to let her go. He surrendered to Fate at last.

Raoul swallowed hard and looked away. "You plan to seek him out?"

"Yes," came her quiet reply.

"Then you should know that he has left the city." Raoul blinked back the tears that were flooding his eyes. He felt as if he were ripping his heart from his chest, as he reached inside his breast pocket and withdrew an envelope of the finest paper with a crimson seal. His hand shook slightly as he handed it to Christine.

Christine's heart leapt in her chest as she opened it and saw for the first time in six years her Angel's elegant, flowing script.

My dearest Christine,

I want you to know that I am leaving France. You have my word that I shall not return. I sincerely hope my absence will assure you that you have nothing to fear from me anymore.

Yours always,

Angel

Filled with angry tears, her eyes flew up to Raoul's in bitter accusation. "What did you tell him," she whispered.

Raoul looked away. She would despise him if he told her. Even if he had never truly earned her love, he couldn't bear her hatred.

He hesitated. "I told him that you feared him. That you were afraid he would take you away." It was only half of the truth, but at least it wasn't a lie.

Christine's eyes became wild. Blindly, she flung herself at him, beating her fists against his chest. "How could you! How could you!" she hissed. "After all he has been through, after all the ignorance and cruelty he has endured! How could you make him think that I feared him like the rest?"

Raoul grasped her assailing hands, holding them tightly until she finally ceased to struggle. She raised her anguished eyes once more to his. "How could you let him think for even one moment that I see him as the monster everyone else has always thought him to be?" she whispered.

Raoul released her and she backed slowly away from him. The look in her eyes told him clearly that she would never see him the same way again. He shrunk back from the judgment of her gaze.

"I'm so sorry that I have hurt you," he whispered brokenly.

"But you are not sorry for what you have done to him." Her tone was glacial.

Raoul's eyes flashed, his anger igniting once more. "I will never have any sympathy for that creature!" he seethed, "He has taken everything from me!"

Christine stared at him coldly. "If you are referring to my heart, it never belonged to you in the first place." She had delivered the final crushing blow: speaking at last the bitter words that he had always known, but had never been able to admit, even to himself.

As he stared wretchedly into her face, he noticed that for the first time in his life he could see no trace of the friendly affection she had always held for him in her eyes. All that he had done to force that affection to become something more, had in the end, only twisted it beyond recognition, leaving anger and disappointment in its place.

That knowledge was more than he could bear. "God forgive me for what I have done," he whispered brokenly.

Christine turned to leave, then paused to look back at him over her shoulder for a moment. "God is indeed likely to be more forgiving than the one whose wrath you will be facing now." She lifted her long skirts above the damp grass and walked away without looking back.

Raoul sank heavily onto the bench, watching miserably as Christine disappeared into the darkness that had long since fallen. He noticed in morbid fascination how easily it embraced her.