In Happiness

Christine hardly knew how to handle such utter contentment. Her life had been a torrent of tragedy for so long, she felt somewhat at a loss without it. She sat reclined in the chair in front of her window, her feet propped upon the window bench in a most unladylike way, enjoying the freedom of the afternoon. She laughed a little to herself, knowing that this current peacefulness wouldn't last forever. Yet the knowledge did not dampen her mood. She was currently high on the euphoria of love and passion and hope, enjoying the best of all possible worlds. Even the frustration she felt at only being able to steal little moments with Erik was made bearable by the fact that she had those moments at all. Soon she would no longer need to let him slink away into the night alone.

And I will finally have the pleasure of waking in his arms.

Yet as impatient as she was for the day when they would start their life together in earnest, she knew she would have to let go of a little piece of her heart to do it. Madame Giry and Meg, Paris, even her dear friend Raoul, would all have to be left behind. So she was basking in these strange moments out of time when she had everything she had ever dreamed of, if not precisely in the way she had dreamed.

Even now, Madame Giry and Erik had set things into motion for the future. Christine had wondered at first why Erik had allowed her to give two weeks to Monsieur Pinot at the Mystere when he clearly disapproved of her performing there, but it had soon become clear that he intended their departure from the city to coincide with a dark period at the Theatre Soliel. Meg and Madame would be able to travel as far as Chantilly to see Erik and Christine off…and Christine would have her 'family' with her when she wed. Christine had fallen just a little more deeply in love with Erik with that simple gesture.

He really did have so much beauty within him, as buried as it was beneath the pain he had endured. Too much of his pain had been inflicted by her own hands, and she wished she could go back and undo the past. Yet even if such a thing were possible, she doubted she would know where to begin. At what point had it all gone so wrong? She thought, at times, that perhaps it had been that moment when she had first ripped his mask away from him without his consent. Or perhaps it had been sooner than that. Raoul's return to her life? Or was it that very first time she had prayed to her father asking him to send the Angel of Music to her? Yet to change even one thing would have denied them both the journey to this place they were in now. As it seemed to do increasingly often as of late, Christine's hand came to rest over her belly and she smiled.

How could I ever wish to undo any of this?

The gentle knock at her door pulled her from her daydreams, and Madame Giry's muffled voice could be heard from the hallway. "Christine? Might I have a word, child?"

Christine straightened from her chair and opened the door to reveal Madame Giry in the threshold looking quite serious.

But then she always looks quite serious, does she not?

Still smiling, Christine bid her enter. "Of course, Madame. Do come in."

Antoinette Giry settled herself on the window bench with raised brow and stern demeanor, and Christine felt a flutter of apprehension. She sat immediately in the chair she had been in before and folded her hands nervously in her lap. A moment of very awkward silence passed between the women before Madame cleared her throat. "My dear, I must speak with you about...certain matters. Regarding your...life with Erik."

Christine frowned, wondering if Madame Giry had encountered some problem with her contacts. "Of course, Madame. What is it you wish to say?"

Antoinette Giry sighed. "I realize this likely comes a bit late, but it is necessary nonetheless. It concerns your...marital relations."

Christine blushed furiously and averted her eyes, feeling the sudden urge to escape this conversation. It was once thing to have spoken of such things to Meg, her dearest friend, her sister…but the thought of speaking to Madame Giry about it was just…awful. "Madame, I...have...read books. There is really no need for this..."

Antoinette cut her off sharply. "The need is long overdue, child. I am not unaware that you and Erik have already been intimate." Christine's blush deepened, and seeing this, Antoinette's voice softened considerably over her next words. "Nor am I blind to the ripening of your figure, Christine. I have seen enough of such matters to know that you are expecting."

Christine found herself momentarily speechless, and Madame Giry did not break the silence, but only continued to steadily watch as Christine cast her eyes to the floor. When Christine finally did speak, her voice sounded small. "Has it been so obvious?"

Antoinette smiled a little. "No, child. It is still early, yes?" Christine's eyes finally came up from the floor and she nodded. Antoinette continued, "But the signs are there, if one knows where to look, and you have been a daughter to me for far too long to be able to hide this."

Christine twisted her hands in her lap, her brown eyes wide and suddenly pensive. "Are you disappointed in me, Madame?"

Antoinette sighed. "No. I am proud of the woman you've become, Christine." Then concern deepened the lines of her face. "You know he will not find this easy."

Christine drew in a deep breath, nodding slowly. "I know, but he is...adjusting. As am I."

Antoinette raised a brow again. "But you have questions, no? And you've not been able to ask anyone, but you may ask me now, and I will prepare you as best I can."

A slow, grateful smile curved Christine's lips. She had been longing to talk to someone about this, and she simply hadn't had the courage to speak with the doctor she'd seen about any more than the very basic facts of her health. "Thank you, Madame. I have so much I wish to know."

Madame Giry smiled and settled back to answer all of Christine's questions, and ask the girl some of her own. The conversation lasted quite some time, and Christine wavered between embarrassment, awe and utter fear. The reality of what was to come seemed to settle fully over her, and she nearly cried with relief when Madame ended with a promise that she should come if needed…even as far as England.

"Oh, Madame…will you really come?"

Antoinette smiled, clasping Christine's hand. "Of course, Christine. You will need your family at such a time…I know that I am not your mother…nor Erik's, but it feels as though you are both my children."

Christine swiped away a stray tear, laughing a little at the weeping mess they'd both become. "I do not think I can ever express to you how very grateful I am for everything you've done for me, Madame. You and Meg truly have been my family."

Antoinette squeezed Christine's hand, shaking off her own sentimental tears. "And we shall always be, Christine. No matter the distance between us."

Later, as the afternoon faded into memory, Christine sat with the two women who had played such important roles in her life…her sister, her mother…and she could not stop the sheen of tears from filling her eyes at the thought of being without them. But then she would think of Erik, and his child, and she could not regret her choices.

Only one regret remained in Christine's heart and mind, and she would be forced to face it when Raoul de Chagny came to call on her once again.

A/N: Can't get anything past Madame Giry...she and Christine were overdue for that little 'mother-daughter' chat. As you can see, our poor deluded Vicomte is back again.