In Hope

Christine sat alone in quiet contemplation as she stared out her window in the direction of the Opera House. Two months had passed since she had last seen Erik. Nearly a week since she had dined with Raoul.

Poor Raoul, who still clung to the hope that she would come to love him as he loved her. Christine closed her eyes against the sorrow she felt at hurting him. Their time together had been full of wonderful memories. Childhood memories…but they were no longer children. At first, Raoul had valiantly kept their conversation light…asking her about her position at the theater, inquiring about her general comfort at the Marseille House, even asking about Madame Giry and Meg. But the talk soon turned back to his unchanged feelings for her, and Christine had been forced to tell him that her own feelings had settled into friendship.

'We were children, Raoul,' she had said. 'I loved you as a child, and I accepted your proposal as a child. But as a woman, I know that I could not have made you happy.'

He had been inclined to argue the point, insisting that she did make him happy.

'I love you, Little Lotte. If only you will give me a chance to know you as the woman you've become…you will see that we both can be happy…'

Christine simply could not bring herself to tell Raoul the depth of her feelings for Erik, though she suspected that he must have known. He'd spoken so fervently of stability and comfort and safety, as if to remind her of what she could never have if she persisted in her attachment to a ghost. His words had been a horrible temptation to Christine in her current state. Stability, comfort, safety. All the things a child would need.

It would have been so terribly easy to accept Raoul back into her life…to swear her love and marry him quickly. Even the idea of such a thing had made her ill, almost as if Erik's child had been protesting his mother's devious thoughts. Raoul must have noticed her complexion turn slightly green, for he'd broken off in concern and asked if she was well. A few deep breaths and a sip of water had thankfully calmed her stomach, and Christine had firmly told Raoul again that she could promise him nothing but friendship. To that, he had smiled kindly, promised her that she could always count on his friendship, and gently informed her that he was still hoping her feelings for him might deepen in time.

Poor Raoul…time will only deepen my bond to the very man you fought to free me from.

A gentle knock at her bedroom door interrupted her musings, and she heard Meg's soft voice. "Christine?"

Sighing, Christine sagged back in her chair. "Come in, Meg. The door is open."

Meg pushed open the door and took in her friend's tired posture and pensive look. "Christine, are you well? You did not come down for dinner."

Even the thought of dinner had Christine fighting down a wave of nausea. "I am...not hungry, Meg."

Meg's sharp blue eyes narrowed intently on Christine's face. "You should take better care of yourself, Christine. You seem so tired of late, I fear you are pushing yourself too hard."

Christine smiled wanly. "I'm fine, Meg. Do not worry about me. I am only having restless nights thinking in circles."

"Thinking of...Erik?"

A tired sigh escaped her lips. "Yes, of course. It is always Erik."

The two friends had spoken a little of the two men in Christine's life, but for the most part, Christine had kept much of her thoughts to herself, especially of late. Meg hesitated, uncertain if she should voice the question foremost in her mind this night, but it was a question much in need of an answer. "And what of Raoul?"

"Raoul?" Christine's brows rose in surprise, and she laughed without humor. "It is strange that you should ask about him. I have seen him recently."

Again, Meg hesitated. In truth, she had seen him back in Paris as well...but she did not betray this news to Christine. Instead she feigned innocence. "Have you?"

"Yes. He came to the theater several days ago and escorted me to dinner."

Meg raised a single brow, and Christine wondered idly if her friend knew how like her stern mother she seemed in that gesture. "Dinner? Do you think that was wise?"

Christine laughed again, a little more amused this time. "When have I pretended to be wise?"

Meg frowned, "Christine, you should not toy with Raoul's affections if your heart remains set on Erik."

Christine slanted a curious look at her friend, suddenly struck by something. "Meg, when have you begun to call Raoul by his given name?"

Meg colored slightly. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Before you have always spoken of him as le Vicomte."

Meg shook her head in denial. "I'm certain that I must have used his name in the past."

Christine frowned, not really remembering a time when she had. "Perhaps, but you certainly have not encouraged my feelings for Erik before." Indeed, Meg had always seemed to favor Raoul.

Meg frowned, "That isn't true. I've only urged you to be certain of whatever decision you might make. Especially where it concerns Erik."

Christine smiled ruefully. "The decision is no longer mine to make, Meg."

"What do you mean?"

For a moment, Christine considered confessing her suspicions to her friend, but then she thought better of it. Meg had not approved of Christine's wanton behavior in Erik's chamber. Telling her friend of the consequences of that night was too much for Christine to face at the moment. She sighed tiredly, and a wayward tear escaped the corner of her eye. "I only mean that Erik will not have me now. He...he has not come to me in all these weeks." Though at times she felt certain that he was near, and she clung to that feeling in hope...just as she clung to his mask at night as she slept. "I have no way of even knowing if he remains at the Opera House."

Meg's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean that you have not seen him again?"

"Of course I haven't. I asked Raoul for time to be certain of my feelings. I thought it only fair to take the same from Erik, so there could be no question." Although it likely had not mattered, as Erik seemed to have no intention of taking her back.

Meg's gaze sharpened on Christine's face. "And are you certain of your feelings now, Christine?"

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes against the dull ache. "I love Erik."

Meg studied Christine a moment more. Such a simple statement with such implications, but there was no longer any hesitation…no qualifications...no fear. Only acceptance. Perhaps Christine has finally found herself, she thought. "He remains at the Opera."

Christine's eyes snapped open at this, her voice full of such longing. "You have seen him?"

"I have not, but...Maman has gone back to the Opera on several occasions."

Pain filled Christine's eyes. "But Madame has sworn to me that she has not seen Erik."

It had become a little ritual, really. At least once a week, Christine would gather the courage to ask Madame if she had seen him, and the older woman would look at Christine sternly and say, 'I am sorry, child. I cannot tell you what you wish to hear.'

Meg averted her eyes in guilt, suddenly preferring the days when she had been the one kept in the dark about such things. "She only meant to protect you, Christine…and Erik….to give you both time to heal from the damage you had inflicted on one another."

Christine raised a brow, "Damage?" Her hand drifted to her abdomen, and a strange little smile played on her lips. "Such beautiful, exquisite damage."

Meg looked at her friend oddly. "Christine? I truly fear for you when you say things like that."

Christine ignored the comment, excitement bubbling within her. "Meg, I must see him. I must know if his feelings for me remain unchanged."

Meg sighed in resignation, "Then we must speak to Maman. I am certain she will know how to find him."

Christine smiled in eager anticipation. She was much changed from her last meeting with Erik. Once again her hand pressed against the secret she carried within her.

I will not be sent away again.

A/N: Okay...next chapter is the one you've been waiting for. My humble little fic has experienced some recent growth in readers...so welcome to you all.