The dewy grass was cold on their bare feet, but neither appeared to notice. For hours neither had spoken, content to revel in the simple existence of the other. The journey home had been spent in exhausted conversation, explanations and the merging of two lives torn apart. Both listened as the other spoke of the joys and sorrows, the longings and the loss. When all had been told, words suddenly became unimportant. Words couldn't express feelings that were inexplicable, indescribable, and incomprehensible. Through the darkness, Raoul and Christine had clung to each other. Christine had marveled at how much Christophe had grown since she had seen him last. She was grateful that Raoul had spoken of her to him, shown him pictures, kept her alive in his life. At least he still recognized his own mother. For a moment, tears brimmed her eyes as she realized just how much she had missed while she was away. She silently cursed Erik, blaming him for her loss. But as the evening wore on and the sunlit sky softened into night, her heart once again opened itself for him. Even as she stood in the open field at the back of her home, reunited with the love of her life, Erik was in her thoughts. The fury and the hatred that had flooded her soul was now receding as pity took its place. She pushed him from her mind, turning her attention once more to her husband.
"Are you going to ask me?" she spoke softly, her fingers entwined with Raoul's.
"Ask you what?" he questioned, noticing her uneasiness.
"If…if I was faithful to you," she answered, her dark eyes afraid to meet his.
He placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up towards his. "That is of no importance to me," he answered sincerely. "You can't understand the pain that seared through me when I thought I had lost you forever. I thought I would eventually become numb, but there was nothing but the pain. And only your touch could heal me. I'm so grateful to have you back in my life that I can see past anything that happened while you stayed with him."
The apprehension in her face melted away as Raoul's words calmed her fears. She trusted what he had said, and she knew that he would never question her about what had occurred beneath the Opera Populaire. Despite this, she felt compelled to tell him, knowing that the truth would comfort him. "I did remain true to you. Even when I couldn't remember who I was, even as I played the part of Erik's wife, you were always with me. Your face, your voice, they were always in my mind. I couldn't give myself to Erik. I just couldn't."
Raoul couldn't suppress the smile that grew on his face. He had been honest when he told her that it hadn't mattered; even if she had confessed that she and Erik had never left the bed he would have rushed to take her in his arms. But somehow, knowing that their love was strong enough to survive even when she couldn't remember it made him feel even closer to her. He had clung to that love in his darkest hour, and it had pulled her back to him.
Christine's lips curled up and returned Raoul's smile. She once again took his hand in hers and turned to lead him back towards the house. Along the way they, passed the old rocking chairs that sat at the west end of the manor. Raoul and Christine had spent many evenings in those chairs, watching the sky turn shades of pink as the sun sank beneath the trees. Christine ran her hand along the arm the chair, suddenly pulling back in pain. Raoul reached out and grabbed her hand, concern apparent on his face.
"Sliver," she winced.
Raoul scanned her finger, searching for the intruding piece of wood. With a delicate touch he forced the sliver out of her finger, placing a light kiss over the small wound it left behind. His hand gently stroked hers as he gazed into her eyes. They had become hazy with desire, a seductive smile on her lips. Raoul scooped Christine up into his arms and her hands locked behind his neck. He leaned his head down and his lips claimed hers. He felt her respond to his touch, her body quivering with emotion. At that moment, all he needed was to feel her skin against his. His feet led him instinctively to their bedroom. They spent the night locked in a passionate embrace, forgetting that another world existed outside their bed.
In that other world, Erik was once again alone in the darkness. Erik could pinpoint the moment he had felt his heart stop beating. When Christine embraced her true husband and abandoned Erik to unending solitude, his soul escaped from his body. Now he lay in his coffin, a corpse waiting for death to carry him away. Outside of his tomb, he heard the reaper approaching. He listened to the destruction that was occurring in his home- shattering glass, searching hands, muffled yells. Finally, the lid of his coffin was violently thrown open. He didn't even flinch as he was ripped from his isolation and dragged from his home. He made no inquiries to the identity of his captors, nor their intentions. His body was limp as he allowed them to throw him into a jail cell. Without a word, he endured their insults. None of it mattered anymore. There was no life for him outside of Christine.
After hours of being alone in the cell, a short, stout man entered to provide Erik with food. Erik felt no shock or fear as the man spoke, his voice cold and unfeeling. "They're accusing you of murder, you know. They're going to hang you."