Chapter 17

Dearest Christine,

Do not be surprised that I have found your lodging. I have connections; you know this. Your small account must be running out of money by now; therefore I have granted you access to my account. Either use it, or come home where you belong. I miss you, darling. Please do not abandon me.

Your Love, Raoul

Christine sat on her bed at the inn, reading Raoul's letter. It had been around two weeks since the night she had left him; her account was slowly dwindling. Although it was tempting to accept his money, she knew she had to free herself from him... Even if that meant having no money and no place to go.

Christine was thrown from her thoughts when she heard a sharp knock on the door.

The innkeeper entered the small room. He was a short, slightly overweight, middle-aged man. "Mademoiselle Daae," he said formally.

She rose from the bed, folding the letter back up and placing it on the night stand. "May I help you, monsieur?"

"You are no longer welcome in this inn, as you have failed to pay you rent. You are currently 200 francs in debt.

"Monsieur, I told you to simply take the money out of my account; there was some money in there as of yesterday, I'm sure you just made a mistake..."

"There is no mistake, mademoiselle."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is you have to leave," he said shortly.

"Please gather your things and leave as soon as possible." With that, he left the room. Christine's face paled with shock and worry. Absently, she turned and began to gather her things, placing them in the trunk. She had no idea what was to become of her. After packing up her things, she went down to the lobby of the inn.

She knew there was only one place she could go to know, and with that, she stepped out into the rain and hailed a carriage.

x

Erik sat in the parlor, enjoying bourbon and a book in front of the fire. It was raining heavily outside; Brigitte was asleep in her crib and Annette had long since left for home. Suddenly, shortly after thunder sounded, he heard several frantic knocks to the front door. He rose quickly from his seat to answer it; there, on the stoop, stood Christine, soaking wet to her chemise. He thought himself to me in a nightmare; a torturous dreams where her presence mocked him. But no, she was truly here, at his home. "Christine?"

Christine herself could not believe she was there. "Erik," she breathed. Then, remembering the anxiously waiting cabby inside the carriage she said, "Could you pay him? I have no money," she muttered, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"Oh, yes, of course." He ushered her inside and grabbed some money to pay to cabby; he ran down the path to where the driver was waiting, paid him, and rushed back to Christine. "Darling... What are you doing here?" he asked as he took the sight of her in. In spite of himself, he noticed that her breasts had gotten larger than the last time he had noticed, and she looked a bit tired and stressed. Otherwise, she looked the same. He brought his eyes back to hers.

"I left... About two weeks ago, and when I ran out of money... I could think of no where else to go," she said; it was not the full story, but she did not know what he would do if she told him everything.

He took her hand in his and led her back to the parlor, sitting down on the davenport. "Please sit by the fire," he prompted.

She sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry that I came so unexpectedly, but as I said, I had no where else to go..."

It is fine... Why did you you leave the vicomte?" he asked gently. As she relived the night she left in her mind, tears came to her eyes. "If I tell you...you have to promise you won't do anything rash..."

"I promise, please tell me..."

Christine took a deep breath before beginning. "The night he came home, he wanted to... make love, but I refused him. I told him it had been a long journey and he was probably tired and... told him to wait until another night. He did. But then, around a week later, he wanted to again... I was trying to go along with it... After all... I'm his wife right?" She let out a mirthless laugh, "but I couldn't go through with it... I told him no... that I was tired; that I didn't feel up to it. He asked me... if it had to do with you.

"He figured it out... He got so angry; He... He... forced himself upon me... Told me that I needed to forget you. I told him to stop; I tried to push him off of me, but I couldn't... Eventually, before he could do anything, he stopped; realized what he was doing... He apologized... but I was so frightened... I had just felt so helpless and... scared, so I left..." she broke off, tears running down her cheeks. He gathered her in an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, darling." That damned boy! They'd gone through so much pain and sacrifice for him... Further more, he'd trusted him to keep Christine safe and happy! And look what he'd gone and done... Erik kissed Christine's head softly, rubbing her back... Still, he found it hard to believe that he was actually seeing her again, that she was in his arms. Suddenly, it struck him that she was soaking wet. "Christine, darling, do you have anything to change into? I don't want you to catch cold." She realized that she had forgotten about her belongings, which were still outside in the pouring rain.

"My trunk is on the porch." He nodded, and pulled apart from her to retrieve the trunk. He pulled it into the foyer, rummaging through it for her until he found a dry chemise and nightgown. "Put these on," he said, handing the clothing to her. "There's a powder room right over there," he added, nodding toward a door next to the fireplace.

She took the garments from him and walked into the powder room. Once she dried off and changed out of her soaked clothes, she felt much better. She pulled her long brown curls into a bun before exiting the room, and walking over to Erik. She took his hands in hers.

"Can I stay?" she asked quietly. Maybe Raoul's actions had been a blessing in disguise; maybe she and Erik could finally be together because of them.

"Yes, of course," he replied. "Come, you must be quite tired." He kissed her hand before leading her upstairs to the bedroom. As she settled into the bed once more, he changed into a nightshirt before joining her. She scooted close to him.

"It was so painful being without you," she whispered.

He opened his arms for her to get closer. "Yes, I know... But you won't have to be anymore..." Although, he was not sure if that was true. He doubted that the vicomte would give up so easily, and she was his wife. Who knew what he might try.

Christine smiled as he wrapped his arms around her, burying her face in the crook of his neck; feeling the warmth of his body against hers brought her great comfort, something she had not felt in far too long.

"How is Brigitte?"

"She is doing well... I'm very pleased with her. Without her, I do not know if I would have survived."

x

Raoul sat in his study, a bottle of scotch in his hand. He was drunk. He's never been drunk before, but he knew he was now. He had a reason to be drunk: Christine, the woman he loved, his wife, had left him. She'd refused to use the accounts, and as far as anyone knew she had left the inn and had not been seen since. He did not know how, but he would find her. Suddenly, a fragment of the night he'd almost had her body flashed in his mind. Erik. The monster's name was Erik. At least he had that. It was not much, but he was sure that it could be useful to him in some way.