Erik deftly stepped from his boat onto the shore, Christine still lying limp in his arms. He couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of the situation. It was the first time he had smiled since he had released Christine with her fiancée that night. Erik gently laid Christine down in the bed before beginning the challenging task of preparing the house for her. It had to appear as though it were the home of a happily married couple. Besides that, there was still the daunting task of creating an entire life for her. Erik only wished that Christine would remain asleep until all was ready for her. Although he worked diligently to put everything in order, he frequently caught himself simply staring at Christine. The soft curves of her skin drew him in, hypnotized him. As he watched her sleep, Erik felt the shattered pieces of his heart slowly coming back together.

After a few hurried hours, Erik heard Christine stirring from her sleep. He rushed to her side and sat down beside the bed. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she awoke to her new life. He gently took her hand in his as her eyes fluttered open.

"Erik?" she said with a puzzled look.

"Yes my dear, I'm here," he answered, tentatively reaching out a hand to brush the hair from her face. Her skin felt so warm against his.

"Where…where are we?"

"Do you not recognize your home? I had hoped that being here would inspire some memory. Would you like to take a look around?" he spoke to her like she was a lost child.

Christine slowly lifted herself from the bed, never attempting to remove her hand from Erik's. She let him lead her through their home, showing her the place where they dine, where he composed his songs for her, where she sat and read. For a moment, she felt dizzy, as though she were going to faint again. Erik saw her wavering and quickly moved to steady her.

"Are you alright my love?" he asked, his face revealing his concern.

Christine gave him a weak smile. "I'm fine. It's just that, well, you leading me through this place…it feels familiar."

"I am pleased to hear it. But perhaps you have been on your feet enough for tonight. You have certainly endured enough stress. Come, you must go back to bed."

Erik helped her into the bed and pulled the sheets up to her shoulders. He was suddenly struck with a thought- where was he going to sleep? He hadn't really considered this. Surely as Christine's husband, he had every right to sleep beside her. But at the same time, he didn't feel entitled to place his corpse beside this angel. Erik turned to leave the room when he felt a hand take hold of his wrist. He looked down and saw a pained look on Christine's face.

"Erik, please tell me something about myself, anything. Not knowing about my life…it's devastating," she said, her eyes pleading.

Erik smile as he once again sat down beside her. "Well, what would you like to hear?"

"It doesn't matter. Just start from the beginning," she answered as she lay back and relaxed her body.

"Very well. Your father was an amazing musician and storyteller. And he loved you more than anything…" he began. Erik told her everything he knew of her life, keeping it as close to reality as possible. This way, should she remember something, it would fit comfortably within the framework of the life Erik wove. There was, however, one rather large detail that Erik had taken liberty with. The Vicomte had his place in the story, but he would simply have to wait.

Christine was enthralled by the sound of Erik's voice. It filled her soul and warmed her heart against the cold. Every minute detail of her life took on a new importance when Erik spoke of it.

"From the very first moment that I heard you sing, I knew that you had a gift. I could not allow it to go to waste, despite the ignorance of the fools who run this theater. So I became your teacher. Your teacher, and yet, so much more…" Erik's voice broke with emotion and he hung his head.

Christine raised a hand to his cheek and turned his face towards her. "It's lovely. Please, continue."

"I don't know that I should. For you see, there was a shadow that eclipsed our happiness, a dark force that tried to overpower us."

Erik saw the worried look on Christine's face, "Yes, that is enough."

"No!" Christine called out desperately. "Please, Erik. I have a right to know."

"As you wish," he continued. "There was no way that we could have been prepared. Monsieurs Andre and Firmin announced the new patron of the Opera Populaire- Le Vicomte de Chagny. He was present the night you made your stunning debut, and from that moment forward you became his obsession. You tried to avert his advances, but he was relentless in his pursuit. Night after night he would approach your dressing room with gifts of flowers and jewelry, professing his unending love for you. Finally, one night you confessed that he could never have your heart, because it belonged to another." Erik took Christine's hand in his and looked her earnestly in the eyes, "He went mad with jealousy. He vowed to kill the other man who held your affections…"

"Oh Erik!" Christine interjected, terror in her wide eyes.

"Does the story frighten you my dear?"

"No, don't stop," she replied with a strong voice.

"He grabbed hold of your arms and demanded that you tell him where he could find this other man. When you refused, he turned his rage upon you. He said that he would be the only man to ever possess you. When I entered the room he was…forcing you down upon the floor. He had ripped your dress open. I took a vase off the vanity and broke it over his head. Then I brought you down here to my home, where we have lived as husband and wife ever since."

"And what of the Vicomte?" Christine asked angrily.

"I believe he is married to another woman now, though I doubt she is very happy."

"How could she be, married to a man like that?" Christine wiped the tears from her eyes.

"He is none of our concern anymore. I would never let him anywhere near you again," Erik said, gently stroking Christine's hand. "Are you satisfied now, my love?"

"I shall be content for tonight. I only wish I could remember more of what you said. I suppose it will return to me in time?"

"Perhaps," he answered. "Now you must rest."

"Thank you Erik," Christine whispered before allowing her eyes to close in sleep.