a/n I just got dumped, and I feel the urge to write until the Nyquil kicks in. Bear with me as things start to get messy. Thanks to everyone who reviewed within the first five minutes—you guys never cease to amaze me!

CHAPTER 11—IT'S OVER NOW

Raoul was different when he arrived home. He had never been as preoccupied as this after any visit to Vienna, and Christine was a bit frightened when he began to tear around the house after midnight. She clenched her eyes shut, first against the slamming of doors and furniture, then against his terrible sobbing. Praying that he would not hear, she too sobbed.

Erik had left two weeks before with Gustave and her heart had ripped in two. As she had waved goodbye to her lover and her son, she knew it would not take much to make up her mind about the situation with Raoul. What she worried about instead was what she would say to him. Would she tell him the truth? Or should she simply lie, and say that she did not love him anymore?

She did love him, just not the way she did when they had been married.

The door opened and closed again, softly, and she knew he was in the room again. He was still sniffing, and she worked to stifle her crying. She needn't have.

"It's alright, Christine," he said quietly. "I heard you crying."

He sat down on his side of the bed, not moving to remove his clothes or lay next to her. She sat up, looking at his face, reflected in the dim light from the candle that she had left burning. It frightened her to see him look so hollow. He stared away, out the window, for a long time before he spoke.

"How long?"

Christine blinked. "What?"

"How long has it been since you bedded… whoever?"

"You don't know?" This was new information to her. She had honestly thought he had known this.

"No." He sighed and turned to look at her. "I don't know how long, who, or even for sure that you were doing anything. I just… felt it."

Looking at her hands, Christine searched for an answer. "I—" She couldn't tell him the truth—it would kill him. "You were away on business."

"I'm gone a lot," he said dully. "You felt… strange… the first time we made love. Was it before then?"

Her eyes squeezed shut so that she would not have to see his face. "Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes."

He made no reply. She opened her eyes. He had turned to look at her with a mix of shock, disgust, and… relief? She smiled at him and reached for his hand. "I know about Sonia."

At this, his eyebrows raised. "Dare I ask how you know that is was Sonia?"

"He found out for me."

"He?" Raoul leaned back to look at her more closely. "Who is he, Christine?"

She raised her eyebrows. When he still stared, she smiled. "Don Juan triumphed."

Raoul looked confused for a moment before a thunderstruck look passed over his face. For a moment, she was afraid of him, but the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared as he began to laugh. "Well," he said, "at least I can be sure you will be well looked after."

Christine frowned. "What do you mean?"

Raoul gave a small laugh. "You don't really want to be married anymore. I see it in your eyes every time we're making love. You'd rather be with him." Reaching for her hand, Raoul smiled at her. "I know I'd rather be with Sonia and…" He paused, then looked into her face. "Isabella."

"Isabella?" For a moment, Christine was confused again, but then realization came over her. "Your daughter," she whispered.

Raoul nodded. He squeezed her hand. "I'm in love with two women, Christine," he said softly. "But I will always love you and value your friendship."

"I know," she said. "And I will always love you, and value your friendship."

He pulled her into his arms in an embrace that was such a relief that Christine thought she might start crying again. Another thought came to her, and she pulled back to look at him. "What will your mother say?"

He shrugged. "I don't care."

She grinned and hugged him again.

Never before had something so beautiful been created on God's green earth. Little Gustave was going on five months now and developing well. It was apparent that he was going to look more like Erik than Christine. He had his father's beautiful eyes, his nose, and it looked as if he would have Erik's ears, as well. His hair, though, had to have come from Christine. As it grew in, it was remarkably curly and dark.

Gustave always seemed to recognize his father and reached his arms out to be held when Erik entered his room. His interest in his toes was surpassing Erik's, and he was already crawling short distances, something the nurse said was advanced for his age. Erik was amused when the boy tried to imitate the sounds emanating from the piano one night—Gustave seemed to love the piano. He would sit on Erik's lap, bang on the keys, then look up at his father before pressing the keys again.

Tonight, Erik let Gustave roll around his play pen as he played the piano. As he ran through "Spanish Dance" by Grandaos, Gustave clapped his hands, squealing with delight as Erik pounded through the middle theme. As the music became slow and romantic, Gustave cooed and held out his arms. Erik stopped for a moment to take his son in his arms, then returned to the piano with the child in his lap. He was just getting back to the allegro theme when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, Erik looked at the clock—it was after eight. The few people who called usually came before dinner.

Erik stood up and crossed the room to the door, holding Gustave in one arm, and opened the door to find Christine standing with a tremendous look on her face.

She dropped the bags she was holding to throw her arms around Erik. Still reeling from shock, he hugged her back. Pulling his head down, she kissed him, and he knew he could not possibly be dreaming. He kissed her back, holding her more tightly, and may not have stopped if not for the small hands that flailed against his cheek.

"Oh, darling!" Christine squealed. She held her arms out, and Erik handed their son down to her. She smiled brightly and bounced him on her hip. He screamed with delight and Christine laughed. "You're getting so big!" She looked up at Erik. "How did he grow so fast?" Beaming, she walked inside, turning to look at him. "It's good to see that he's still alive after all these months."

Erik laughed and caressed her cheek. "What are you doing here?"

If it was possible, the smile on her face got even wider. "I am officially a divorced woman, and an extremely scandalous one, according to Raoul's mother." She laughed and spun around, which made Gustave squeal again. Christine kissed his chubby cheek and looked back at Erik. "There was nothing bitter about it—he even brought me to Vienna."

"Really."

"Really! He wanted to see Sonia and—" She smirked. "Baby Isabella."

Laughing again, Erik pulled her into his arms once more. "I love you," he said.

She kissed him again.

Five hours later, Christine collapsed onto her back for the third time that night, still shaking with pleasure. Erik rolled over to kiss her neck, and she smiled, running her fingers through his hair. "I love you," she breathed when she finally found her voice.

He murmured the same against her neck, then moved to kiss her collarbone. "You're the most amazing woman," he whispered.

She smiled. "Am I amazing enough that you'd still want to marry me?"

Erik laughed. "You will always be amazing enough."

a/n Okay, there's going to be a cute little epilogue, then it's done. Can you guys believe it? I'm actually going to finish a story! Wow! I love you guys—you keep me so very motivated. I LOVE YOU! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!