Marry Christmas
Erik stared at me. He looked shocked. He was shocked. He had pictured this all differently. Erik had believed that he would have had to beg me and plead with me to win my hand. He had never thought in his wildest dreams that I loved him so much that I could not stand to be without him.
My words echoed in his mind. Yes, I had asked him to marry me. I had asked him. The possibility had never even occurred to him. He was not used to this. He was used to proposals which involved threatening someone's life and large explosions and eventually, his own broken heart.
His mind was buzzing. How in the world could this be true? How could he be so lucky? It suddenly occurred to him that he had not answered me yet.
"Olivia," He whispered, and my heart froze. What would he say? "It is important that you know; you are the only person who has ever loved me; and you mean more to me than anything else…and nothing would give me more pleasure than to be your husband,"
I rushed toward him, embracing him tightly. I began to cry again. Erik kissed me once on my lips, and then on my forehead as I fell against him. He blinked and felt that his eyes were wet. This was unbelievable, he thought. Erik had his arm wrapped around my back, but he felt that at that moment, he needed to be closer to me.
"Come," He murmured, and he took me by the hand, hobbling out to the bed. He fell back on the sheets and I toppled down with him. Erik ignored the slight pain in his chest and leg as I lay on top of him. He didn't care. He pressed his hand to the back of my head, lowering my lips to his. He kissed me deeply, passionately. I let go of the towel I had been holding around myself and placed both of my hands on the sides of his face.
The towel was wrapped loosely around me and I felt Erik's hand leave the back of my head, though his lips never left mine, and he slid the towel down my back. I sighed into his mouth as I felt the air hit my skin and his hand slid from my backside all the way up my back and into my hair again.
That night, all Erik wanted to do was give me the pleasure I had given him. He could not do everything, not with his leg cast. But he more than made up for it. His lips, his tongue, his hand, all went into making me feel happy. My body felt completely spent by five in the morning, and I fell asleep on top of him. Erik pulled the comforter over us and then wrapped his arm around me.
Erik woke before I did the next morning. At first, he did not want to open his eyes. He had been having the most wonderful dream; I had asked him to marry me. And then he remembered; it was not a dream. His eyes snapped open and he looked down at the top of my head.
Smiling, he stroked my bare back lightly. It was all too good to be true, he thought. How could he possibly deserve this? He was not alone, he was not a monster, and he was engaged. It amazed him; the woman he loved loved him so much, I could not stand not being married to him. Erik felt that one thing was missing however.
As gently as he could, he disengaged himself from me. I rolled over, without waking, and browed under the covers. Quietly, Erik crept to his bag. As he reached his luggage he accidentally knocked over one of the other bags. Wincing and turning to face me, he was relieved to see I did not stir.
Slowly, he opened his bag and unzipped one of the side pockets. Careful not to make another sound, he took out the ring box from Tiffany's. He had brought it with him even though he had not been planning on proposing. He had been packing and had just had a feeling. Hobbling back to the bed, he lowered himself down again. The moment his body hit the sheets I rolled back to him, throwing an arm over him in my sleep.
Erik did not breathe for several moments until he was sure I was still asleep. Then, he slowly opened the box. He looked at the large diamond ring for several moments before he took it out. Carefully he found my hand and slid the ring onto my finger.
He waited and watched. I nuzzled my head against him and made a slight noise, but I did not wake. Smiling a little, he placed the ring box on the bedside table and pulled me to him. Now he just had to wait for me to wake up.
I did not wake for another hour, and the way Erik felt during this time could only be described as how a child feels when they are waiting to open presents on Christmas morning.
Finally I opened my eyes.
"Good morning darling," He said to me as I looked up at him,
"Have you been awake long?" I asked, turning so I could see him better,
"No," He lied, "Did you sleep well?"
"Mhmm," I nodded, "Better than I have in years," that was the truth. But now, in the morning light, I could not help but feel foolish. I had acted so rashly and ridiculously the night before, and I was not sure if Erik would acknowledge what had happened or if he would pretend it never did. Somehow I felt like we were not really engaged.
I remembered how silly I must look and I raised a hand to my damp hair. As I tried to run my hand through it, it got stuck on something. I took my hand out of my hair and I noticed something. A flash caught the light in the room.
Looking down at my hand; I saw it.
"Oh my God," I gaped at the ring, "Erik…how?" I looked up at him stunned,
"I was planning on proposing to you; I just wanted everything to be perfect," He reached out and touched my face,
"I-I can't believe this!" I looked down at the ring again, "It's beautiful Erik,"
"I had a whole plan worked out about how I was going to do it…I always thought that when a man proposed he was supposed to do it in a special, romantic way so I was waiting...I never did not want to marry you," Erik explained,
I kissed him.
"Had I known that your idea of a good proposal involved a bathroom and a towel I would have done it long ago," Erik teased me.
I laughed and shook my head, "We can't tell people that is how we got engaged,"
"Alright," Erik said, "In ten minutes when you call your sister, you tell her that you went into the shower last night, and when you came out the room was covered in roses and there were candles all around. I was sitting on the bed with the ring,"
"Is that what you had planned for your proposal?" I asked him,
"Absolutely not," Erik said quickly,
"How were you planning on doing it?" I asked interested,
"I'm not telling," Erik said slyly,
"Erik! That's not fair, tell me…" my hand had been resting on his chest and I moved it down lower…
"No that's not fair," Erik said, and I felt a tremor run though his body, "You could have waited and had the perfect proposal, but you wanted to do it in the bathroom," He kissed me again,
I thought about the night before, "What did you mean, Erik, when you said I was the only woman who had ever loved you?"
Erik considered for a moment. He stared at me; to him I was like an angel of mercy, rescuing him from loneliness at last. He thought I was wonderful, and he thought I deserved the truth. But he just could not do it, not yet. He wanted to be just happy for awhile like everyone else. But he did think he could tell me something.
"I did not say that," Erik began, "I said you were the only person who ever loved me," He paused, "And I think that is self explanatory," he paused again, "It's a long story Olivia,"
"I'm not going anywhere," I said softly, and I realized how little I knew about his past.
"Well…when I was born, my father left…because of the way I looked. My mother, she saw me as a punishment more than anything else," he looked away from me,
I placed my hand on Erik's face; remembering how it used to look. I knew it had once been quite shocking; the twisted bumpy flesh and the redness…but still, I could not imagine the kind of cold woman who would not love her own son just because of his face. It hurt me to think that someone had hurt the man I loved so badly.
"Erik…" I whispered, and he looked up at me,
"I didn't have a room really…my mother kept me in the basement," Erik continued,
"God!" I said, and I was not sure if I felt more angry or sad, "Couldn't child services have done something?"
Erik did not know what child services was, so he just shrugged, "When I was old enough I left home, and I have been alone ever since,"
"What about that girl you almost married?" I asked softly,
"Christine," Erik sighed, remembering when that very name was enough to crush his soul. Now it was just a tragic reminder of his past, "She never loved me…she used me to get what she wanted, and then she left me," he looked away again and I regretted bringing this up at all, "So when I said," Erik spoke and looked right at me again, "That you are the only person who ever loved me, I meant just that,"
We were silent for awhile.
"Erik…I'm sorry…" I said finally, not knowing what else I could say,
"No, no…It's alright; talking about it just reminds me how far I have come," It was true, Erik thought as he looked at me, entwining my hand in his and feeling the ring on my finger. He had come a long way since that cold, dark basement. It had taken awhile, nearly 124 years, but he had finally found a home, and some one who loved him.
I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was too tight. I leaned forward and tenderly pressed my lips to Erik's. He forgot about all the pain of his past and he focused on what he had at the moment. He loved that he had me in bed, wearing nothing but his engagement ring. And I belonged to him; I wanted him so badly I had asked him to marry me.
When I broke away I had figured out what I needed to say, "You don't have to feel that way ever again; I love you, and that will never change,"
"I know," Erik smiled at me, and for once, he really truly knew, without a doubt, that he was wanted.
We lay in bed for awhile longer. I could not have been more comfortable; laying there in his arms felt wonderful. After some time Erik spoke,
"Darling…,"
"Yes, I know, it's time to move," I said grudgingly,
"I'm getting in the shower," Erik informed me,
"Can you throw me my robe?"
Erik did so and I dove under the covers.
"What are you doing Olivia?" He was perplexed,
"It's cold out there!" came my muffled response. Erik shook his head and went into the bathroom. I managed to put on the robe under the covers and then pop out again, gasping for breath. I looked at the door to the bathroom and made sure it was fully closed. Then I looked down at the ring on my finger; so he had been planning to ask me all along…I had been worried for nothing.
Like a child who just received the ultimate Christmas gift, I did a strange, mildly foolish happy dance in the bed; watching as the ring sparkled. Then I reached for my cell phone. I called Andy…and I called Rebecca…and I called Susan…and I called Jackie…
Erik was in the bathroom, reflecting on the events of the last time someone had tried to take a shower in here. What a silly girl, he thought for the hundredth time, to think that he would not want to marry me. And what a wonderful girl, he thought again, to care enough to ask him.
But then there was still a but. He had still not told me the truth. He had scraped the surface, but there was still much much more. Erik was still torn. He knew he owed me the truth, but was is better to just let this truth die? Why couldn't he allow our relationship to take the happy course it was now set for? But could he really spend a lifetime with me without telling me? He did not know.
"You know," he muttered to his reflection, "I am supposed to be a kind of genius, but I can't figure this out!"
Erik leaned over and turned on the water; plugging the drain and letting the tub fill. He had to bathe this way due to his casts. Over the running water Erik could hear me talking on the phone…
"…Of course you are going to be a bridesmaid!...no I won't make you wear an ugly dress…"
He smiled, happy I was so happy. Erik continued to watch the water. It occurred to him suddenly that he had no one to call and tell that he was getting married. It didn't really matter to him, he thought. He had everything he wanted. He supposed that if there was anyone he would really want to tell, it would be the Persian.
Erik smiled a little as he thought of him. He had always seen something good in Erik. He had seen a part of his soul which had not been overcome by darkness or sorrow or madness. He had seen a part of him worth saving. Erik would have liked to tell him that he was right.
And there was one more person he would have liked to tell. He looked at himself in the mirror and smirked as he thought; Christine. Erik stared at his perfect handsome face and thought of his perfect job and perfect fiancé and he had to admit; he would have loved to see the look on her face if…
And at that moment….124…almost 125…years in the past…
Christine sat looking out the window. She was not listening at all to the conversation going on between Raoul's two sisters as they sat in the opulent drawing room. The two girls seemed to notice too, as they momentarily stopped their chatter and looked at the newest addition to their family.
They shook their heads slightly at her glazed over expression as she looked out the large window. The two elegant ladies looked at each other and sighed; this girl, though beautiful, would never belong. They continued their conversation, not making an attempt to engage the dreamy girl.
Christine was miles away from the rich room with its comfortable stuffed chairs and warm fire. She had not even noticed that the tea in her cup which rested on her lap had gone cold. Her mind was busy with the return of her husband. He was supposed to have come home the night before, but the snow delayed him.
She sighed. She had to admit that married life was not what she had expected. It seemed more like a lot of waiting around. Thinking back to her life just a year before, it seemed like so much more excitement. She had been a dancer and a diva! She had been evolved in scandal and the fight for true love! Now all she was doing was sitting around in fancy dresses and drinking tea. The other way seemed better to her.
Raoul's sisters were a complete bore to her. They spoke of the odd little scandals which occurred in the highest circles of Paris society, but compared to the talk she used to hear from the ballerinas everything was quite tame. Half the time they spoke in English, which she was being forced to learn even though she found her progress quite slow.
For a girl who was used to speaking to disembodied voices and following dark figures into the mysterious depths of an opera house and having to steal moments with her secret fiancé; she was very board.
And 124…almost 125 years later…
Erik came out of the bathroom to find I was still on the phone. I was sitting in my robe, my legs crossed at my ankles. I had called Andy back and we were talking about her own wedding when we had all gotten drunk and sung Hey Jude…
"I hope we do that at your wedding," Andy was saying to me as Erik sat down on the bed,
"We better…remember Lily's wedding? We didn't sing and it was no fun at all…" Erik's ears perked up. Singing always interested him and he knew it interested me as well, just in a different way. When he had pursued music, it had been his all consuming passion. When I thought of music, it was just an exuberant expression. I didn't care about tone or pitch, I just wanted to laugh.
Erik finished pulling on his clothes and crawled up next to me on the bed. He slid his arm around my back and let his hand rest on my stomach. I smiled and laughed a little but continued to talk on the phone. Then Erik began to nip at my ear and I felt his hand tug at the tie on my robe.
"I have to go Andy," I told her suddenly, knowing she would understand, "I'll call you back," I snapped my cell shut, "You never give up do you?" I smiled, kissing my fiancé.