Hi, Chels here. A big thank you to our loyal reviewers; you motivate us :) Don't worry about E and C falling in love-- we promise not to dissapoint. wink wink But for now, please prepare yourself for some angst and, for lack of better word, meaness. But don't worry. All will be well (eventually). Enjoy the chap.

Chapter 7

About two months after that faithful night, Christine was at the opera house once more, for a masquerade. She was not only going to make a social appearance, she was going because she needed to see Erik… She needed to tell him something.

As she stood on the edge of the dance floor in a white, modest gown, she looked pure… Virginal almost. It was the look she had been going for since she needed to play the role of the loyal wife who couldn't stand being away from her husband. After the glances cast her way by the other trophy wives (followed by whispers to their comrades) died down, she slipped away from the gala, making her way into the dressing room and threw the mirror. Christine needed to tell Erik that she was pregnant. That she was carrying a child that was not her husband's. That she was carrying a child that was his own.

Ever since Christine had began to sport a bump, she had taken to wearing dresses that were fitted around the bodice, but loose and flowing from below her breasts downward. When she had found out she was pregnant, she had cried for days on end. It would have been so easy to force herself to miscarry. She thought of it every time she went near stairs… Or took a bath. It would have been so easy to miss a step, or slip while getting in or out of the tub, but each time she pushed the thought of it away. Now, as she found herself rowing the gondola to the shore, Erik on the other side of the lake, gazing at her intently, she wondered if she could possibly want this baby… Even love it? As each day passed, she found that the idea was easier and easier to fathom. Raoul's letters had not helped matters either. He sent her letters constantly… Saying how he couldn't wait to come home; how much he loved her… How much he missed her lying next to him at night. Thankfully, she was never able to respond, for he was constantly on the move.

Erik lie on his bed, idle. He'd spent many of his days this way of late; the gnawing emptiness inside him had only grown since that night. Each day he wondered if she was getting along well... If she ever thought of him, and that final night which always occupied his thoughts. He hoped she had found what she was looking for, for he certainly had not. He had decided to go along with the deed on the assumption that it would bring them closer together... Maybe even bring her to love him. But it had backfired by building a seemingly unbridgeable distance between them.

Christine refused to go to a doctor. She refused to go to a midwife. She rarely went out in public, and no one would know about her pregnancy for as long as she could help it… No one except Erik, that is. Raoul would not even know… Especially not him. Christine often found herself lying awake at night, wondering what would come of her once Raoul returned 22 months later…Would he leave her? Would she leave him? And what of Erik? Would he stay by her side through all of this… Or would he leave her and their baby alone? Her social status was doomed already, she knew. The other women thought her a whore and a slut even now, when they knew nothing… No telling what they would say behind closed doors once she started to show. Then her mind always wandered to the delivery. Who would deliver her baby? Maybe Erik; maybe she would do it herself… She had no idea.

Outside the room, Erik heard the sound of rippling water in the lake beyond. Slowly, he rose from the bed and walked towards the water. He was spellbound to see Christine rowing the gondola toward him. She passed under the gate, which he had not bothered to close since she left. The boat reached the shore; he, being a gentleman, rushed to it to help her disembark.

When she had gone over telling him over and over in her mind, she had always remained calm, but as she exited the gondola, she found herself lunging at him, beating her small fists upon his chest. "You bastard!" she heard herself begin to scream. "You filthy bastard! It wasn't enough that you took me, that I betrayed my husband, but this! Of course this happened of course! But why, Erik? Why did you do this to me!" And to her horror, she began to sob. She cried tears she had been holding inside ever since she had first left the Opera Populaire. Christine could not stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. She was standing so close to Erik that she could see his chest rising and falling as he look each breath. She closed her eyes, her tears falling at full force. "Why…? Why!" He must think I've gone insane…she thought.

Erik stared at her, at total loss for words. Finally, he spoke. "Christine. What the hell are you talking about?" He said this very slowly and deliberately.

Christine wiped the tears from her eyes, but more escaped as she did so. She looked down at the ground and mumbled very softly, "I'm pregnant."

"Why was it urgent for me to know of this?" he asked, utterly confused, which was not a position he enjoyed being in.

She looked up at him then, her eyebrows raised, with a look of disgust on her face. "I knew you would react this way... This is not a game, Erik."

"Pardon me?" Realization was beginning to dawn on him, but it was so surreal, he hardly could be believe it. He needed to hear the words from her mouth.

"You do remember when we had sex, do you not?" she asked incredulously, her tone bitter.

"Of course I do," he replied coldly. "I'll have you know, I was not with child then." Of course he knew what the circumstances here; there was no doubt of them now. His head was spinning; there was feeling far too many emotions at once.

He turned to her again, and snapped bitterly, "Christine, just say it. Or is the very idea too horrible for you to voice?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Why can't you just say it? Speak the truth, dearest. Let me hear it!"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. "The baby is yours, Erik."

"Wonderful job, Christine. I suspect you'll have to tell that to your husband eventually... There should be no secrets in a marriage, you know. Unless, of course, you plan on miscarrying. Yes, that would be the ideal solution, would it not? Murder the monster's child, recover in time for the vicomte's return. No one would ever know; everyone wins."

Christine gaped at him, her eyes wide; she was speechless. Hot tears of anger stung in her eyes; she just stood there, staring up at him, unable to string words together.

"So you haven't decided yet? Well, I relinquish all decisions to you, since you have made such wise ones in the past."

"You really think that I would do that?" Christine asked, her voice rising.

"Do not tell me you have not considered it." Christine said nothing, hanging her head. She had, but she knew she would never be able to do such a thing.

"Of course you have. I cannot say I'd blame you, given your position in this disaster. So, what do you plan on telling the vicomte, precisely?"

"I'm not going to tell him."

"You will have to eventually, when he returns. He will figure it out, Christine. I don't believe him to be that stupid. You were not with child when he left; I suspect he would know at least that much already. And unless he believes that you magically managed to conceive with him while he was hundreds of miles away, he will find out himself."

She swallowed hard, feeling the tears well up in her eyes once again. She couldn't even look at him... She had known this would all end up to be a huge mistake... She had known. But yet, she had still gone along with it. "You don't have to be so cruel," she whispered, her voice wavering. She had thought she had grown over the past few months, but this was proof that she was still very much a child. Christine feared she would always be a child; would never be able to grow up and face the real world.

"To each his own," he said nonchalantly. "Well, what is it you require from me? It cannot be money, so what is it?"

Christine looked up at him, and mentally cursed that at that precise moment, the tears she had been holding in her eyes decided to fall. "I just thought..." she trailed off; she herself didn't know the answer. She just didn't want to go through it all alone, she supposed. Thinking that he would step up and be some sort of knight in shining armor... That had been more childish than anything before.

"Thought what?" he persisted.

You can't possibly tell him what you had been thinking... That would be a very stupid thing to do, even for you... "I don't know," she finished, lamely.

"I suppose that is a sufficient answer. I greatly appreciate you telling me of this joyous truth. She nodded, turning to go, but she had to know...

"Is that what you want Erik?" she asked, her back to him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked dully.

"Is that what you want... For me to miscarry?" He thought a moment before giving his answer.

"It affects me in no way; I will never see the child, as I suppose you would be more fit to raise it. Therefore, the decision lies with you." In truth, he was not fond of the idea of his only possible child being killed before he had a chance at life, but for some reason, he did not want her to know that.

After he had answered her, for some strange reason Christine burst into silent tears. She didn't know why his words were hurting her so much. Over the past few minutes, she had cried more than she ever had since she was a small child. She cursed herself silently as her shoulders began to shake from the sudden burst of sobs. All she could do was stand there, crying, reflecting his words in her head. She was such a little girl, she knew this.

The sight of Christine crying so passionately drew all of the bitterness out of him, if only for now. He walked quickly to her and wrapped his armed protectively around her, drawing her close to her. He laid his bare cheek to her hair. "Christine, do not cry... Please..."

"Please... Don't make me do this alone..." she said through her tears, surprised by her sudden openness.

"I won't... I shall always be here, should you need me," he said soothingly, rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her. Christine buried her face in his chest, the tears wetting his shirt.

"I do need you, Erik..."

Erik was shocked by her answer; happiness, which was alien to him, began to overtake. He tried to force it away, not daring to trust it. "Christine," he said quietly, "I shall help you in any way that I can... I will not force you to do this alone," he confirmed, his tone reassuring and comforting.

Her tears began to slow, but she didn't brake the embrace. "I'm so scared..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry... I'm sure that many young mothers would be..." he said rationally. "Christine, you must conquer this. The child is going to come whether you are frightened or not; as I said, I will help you however I can." He didn't intend to be unsympathetic, but he spoke the truth. Christine felt her tears cease, and she regained rational thought. She had told him that she needed him… That wasn't supposed to happen… She had a husband; she couldn't be doing this anymore… And yet, she did need him, more than anything, but he wasn't supposed to know that.

She pulled out of his embrace, and turned from him, feeling ashamed. Trying to compose herself, Christine wiped her wet cheeks. Her makeup was smeared; she knew she must look a fright. Yet again the gossip would be directed towards her for disappearing from yet another social gathering. Everything was all wrong, she was pregnant with a baby that was not her husband's, everyone in her class thought she was a whore, she had ruined the deChangy name already and she hadn't even been married to Raoul a year; she knew that she was nothing but a spoiled child and nothing would ever be good enough for her or make her happy… So why was it that whenever Erik held her it all felt so right?

Erik watched her, longing to hold the warmth of her body in his arms again. Finally he said, "I suppose you should be getting back then..."

"Do you think... Do you think I could just stay for a bit?"

"Yes, that would be fine... Do you need to lie down?"

"If that would be alright," she said; lately when she stood too long she would get dizzy, but she didn't want to admit weakness to him... She didn't want him to feel the need to take care of her.

He tentatively took her hand in his and lead her to the bedroom. After she had settled herself on the bed, he asked dutifully, "Do you require anything else?"

"No thank you," she said, absently placing her hands on her slightly grown stomach.

He nodded and said, "If you would not mind, I have music to compose."

She nodded, she was only planning on staying until the dizziness passed, but after he had left the room Christine found herself drifting off to sleep.

Erik had lied. Before he was to begin composing, he needed to make a detour. He walked to the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, drinking directly from the bottle of scotch. This was all happening too quickly. Never, even in all thought he'd devoted to that night and Christine, had he even considered that Christine would become pregnant by him. The event was unwanted, gratuitous. It had altered Christine in ways he could hardly believe. Once the alcohol had sufficiently subdued him, he took a seat at his organ and tried to compose; however, he found it far too difficult to concentrate at the moment; instead, he rose and walked to the library, sitting down in one of the armchairs. Within a few moments he was asleep, as he had nothing better to do in such a state.

The alcohol strikes again! Please review :)