DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two

Erik had returned from his day of shopping when he saw Pierre running out to the stables to help him with his packages.

"Monsieur. I am so glad you are home. Madamoiselle Cecilia is frantic!" the old man said as he gathered Erik's boxes from the rear of the saddle.

"What could possibly have gone wrong?" Erik questioned as he noticed the tailor's carriage adjacent to the stables.

Erik's eyes rolled as he walked with Pierre back to the manor. He quickly came to the realization that this wedding tonight had Cecilia in a rut. True, it was her first society debut as an engaged woman, but Erik felt that she seemed to have other ulterior motives.

Erik prepared himself for whatever Cecilia could unleash upon him. He walked into the ballroom once again to see Matthieu frantically sewing sleeves onto her dress.

"I have returned," Erik said as he saw Cecilia's eyes widen.

She jumped off of the box, accidentally knocked Matthieu and Francois over, and scurried over to Erik.

"Erik. I am so glad you are here. My sleeves ripped off of my dress, and I have had no chance to make arrangements for us tonight. I have not bought a wedding gift for the happy couple. I had no clue what you were wearing tonight! And…"

Erik placed his hands on her shoulders and let out a deep breath.

"It will be alright. I will send Jacques to fetch a marvelous gift for the happy couple. I will make our arrangements tonight. I assure you that you will be more than thrilled with my clothing selection for this evening, and I will have Navienne make you a cup of tea to calm your nerves. I will take care of everything," Erik said as his green eyes met her blue ones.

He opened his jacket and withdrew a breathtaking red rose. As he withdrew the fragile flower he held it up to Cecilia's nose.

The scent of the pretty flower immediately calmed her as he placed it into her trembling hands. He kissed her forehead once again, smiled, and walked out of the room.

Cecilia was suddenly embarrassed of herself. She was fretting when Erik seemed to be so withdrawn. She could only imagine what was going through Erik's head. Was he angry with her for being so immature? Was he scared about going into society tonight? Was he nervous about seeing Christine again?

She watched him as he walked out of the room. She envied his composure. She was so used to having to always be the strong one in her family. Now that her father was gone, she no longer had to ensure her composure to keep from upsetting him. She felt guilty for feeling a bit relieved of her loss.

Erik and Cecilia barely spoke more than idle chit-chat about the weather on their way to the church. Cecilia held his hand the entire way. Whether she held it out of support or fear that he would abandon her, she did not know.

The carriage pulled up to the glistening cathedral which housed hundreds of iridescent stain glass windows bearing the images of the Virgin Mary and the baby Christ. Erik, who had little knowledge about religion, felt a bit uneasy as he stepped out of the carriage extending his arm to aid Cecilia. She placed a comforting gloved hand on his back and rubbed him a bit.

"It will be alright. We can sit in the back," she whispered into his ear as he nodded for Gaston to pull away.

They were greeted by the groom's parents as the crossed the threshold through the heavy glass doors of God's house.

"Madamoiselle Deveraux! How wonderful of you to join us on this most….blessed day!" the Vicompt's mother said with a rather mournful tone.

Cecilia could instantly tell that the Vicompt's family did not approve of the marriage. This family was obsessed with proper breeding. Cecilia understood why they would act so cold on this day. Christine was no more than a commoner. She was the daughter of a musician and an entertainer. Most women in such positions had difficulty finding any sort of suitor with limited proper bloodlines let alone have the opportunity to marry a man of the Vicompt's stature.

"It is so wonderful to see you," Cecilia replied, "This is my fiancé Erik. We are elated that you chose to invite us to celebrate such a joyous occasion with you and your family."

Erik received the old woman's hand and kissed it. His striking green eyes looked up at her through his mask which seemed to send a chill through her body.

Before she was able to gasp, he said, "Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Madame. I daresay you do not look remotely old enough to have a son of marrying age."

He shot her a smooth and sensual smile as she immediately seemed to blush.

"I have heard of your proper breeding Monsieur. I suspect that you shall be a good match for Mademoiselle Deveraux," she said completely smittened and delighted at Erik's presence.

"Merci, Madame. However, I fear it is I who is the fortunate one."

The old woman smiled as she called for an usher to escort Erik and Cecilia to their seats. Cecilia stood in astonishment that Erik not only seemed to be so comfortable around other people, but also seemed to be alarmingly charming.

"I cannot believe what I just saw," she whispered as Erik helped her unlace her matching chocolate colored cloak.

"What did you just see?" he asked as he looked around to see if anything was out of the ordinary.

"No, Erik. I cannot believe I just saw Raoul's mother blush, and with her hand in yours no less. She is one of the most ill-tempered of women in high society. She barely likes women let alone men."

"She seemed rather nice to me," Erik replied with a proud smile.

This is going to be easier than I thought.

Erik was extremely pleased with himself. Yet, he felt as though he was severely out of place. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach as he thought of seeing Christine once again. He was also doing his best to not completely abandon Cecilia and run out of the church to the new sanctuary of her father's composition room.

He began to remember the fateful night when Christine denied his love and chose the Vicompt. Erik could not help but wonder if he had the strength to make her his prisoner. He could not help but wish he had the strength to murder her lover before her very eyes. No matter how much he thought he loved her, he could not bear to see her in so much pain.

Erik realized that Christine was his weakness. He had been so strong with Cecilia. He had not completely lost composure. He had not yet broke down and confessed all of his sins to her. Yet, he wondered what he truly felt for Cecilia.

Christine had been his obsession. He lived and breathed her climb to glory. He loved her beauty and her enchanting voice, but he could not help but wonder whether or not he loved her. Christine never talked with him as Cecilia did. Cecilia was real. She did not see him as an Angel of Music, and he did not see her as a pupil. Cecilia saw him as a man. Just a man. Erik, for the first time, felt like he belonged.

"Erik, are you alright?" Cecilia said as she placed her hand on his.

She could tell she had startled him from some sort of daydream.

"I am fine. I am quite alright. Look they are staring," he replied as his eyes turned forward.

Cecilia sensed a bit of uneasiness in his voice. His muscles began to tense up and he desperately attempted to control his breathing and his thoughts.

His eyes studied the remaining people finding their seats, and the Vicompt walking towards the podium in front of the priest. Erik found Madame and Meg Giry sitting two rows from the front on what was supposed to be designated as the bride's side. Erik recognized a few members of the ballet chorus and even the allusive Carlotta sitting in the pews.

I am sure she is here to attempt to find some young man.

At last, the bridal chorus began to play as three or four young women marched down the flower-laden aisle. As the music changed into a march, Erik's heart ached as he caught a glimpse of Christine. She was more stunning than he had ever imagined. Her silky white wedding dress was so much more exquisite than the one he has bought for her when he stilled lived below the opera. She carried a bouquet of winter white roses with crimson ribbon cascading down her lily white hands.

His heart broke as he watched her hand meet the Vicompt's outstretched one. He longed to have the same relationship with a woman. To have her smile as Christine was smiling at Raoul with such admiration and devotion. Erik recalled the night in which Cecilia had come to his bed so willingly. He wanted more than anything else in the world to know if she had truly wanted him.

He felt so confused. He understood that any hope for winning Christine back was diminished as soon as he watched the happy couple kiss. He knew he would always love Christine. He knew that he would always long for her to renounce her love for the Vicompt and come running back to him. He knew better. He knew that he could no longer tempt with fate. He was done with his former life of death and pain. The question was, what was he now going to do with his life?

What Erik did not realize was that Cecilia was not watching the wedding at all. Her eyes were transfixed on Erik observing his hurt expression and obvious grief. She understood that she should have never brought him there. She thought that he had gotten over her somehow. She had hoped and prayed to God that he would somehow someway long to be hers.

She knew that she could not tell him about what happened during her meeting with the opera managers. She could not force him into any sort of marriage knowing that he still loved Christine. She would have to give up her and her father's dreams of owning their own opera house. She empathized that the man sitting next to her. The man she loved, did not love her.

She felt tears well up in her eyes. Erik heard her sniffle and turned his face toward her.

"Cecilia, are you alright?" he asked.

"I am fine, Erik. I always cry at weddings," she replied as her tears began to flow more freely.