AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this Chapter, it became necessary for me to express Christine's point of view. I do believe there will be happy ending, but trouble lies ahead.............
Perversely, after I had proposed to Christine, I was more aloof towards her than ever before. My very existence depended upon her reply and I was loathe that she should perceive the power she held over me. Although not brusque, my demeanor was indifferent. At least, I hoped it appeared I was unconcerned. Inside I was churning but I used every ounce of my ample self-control to conceal my agitation.
Christine as well seemed most preoccupied and I believe both of us were acutely relieved when rehearsals began once again. As before, we settled into a predictable routine where I would escort her to her dressing room in the mornings and be awaiting her in the afternoons. Almost always, I would take the time to observe at least part of rehearsal and we would work on any difficulties Christine encountered.
I would fluctuate between cool indifference and wanting to shake her and force her to decide immediately. The level of pressure inside me was relentless and sometimes I thought I would go mad. If only I knew what she was thinking.........
Yawning, I tried to brush my irritating curls into a sleek, straight drape. Admitting defeat, I dropped the silver brush on my dressing table and stared at my riot of long, dark curls. Reaching for my hairpins, the flash of gold on my left hand caught my eye and I gazed at it as though hypnotized. Erik. Erik had asked me to marry him. A shiver went through me, but whether it was elation or terror, I knew not. How many times had that thought given me pause in the past month? Although our relationship had settled back into a familiar pattern after his proposal, I could always sense the underlying strain that, as yet, remained unanswered.
Oh, how to describe the emotions that rocked me when he unexpectedly declared himself! Shock, disbelief, girlish thrill, hope, love and........fear. I had truly been amazed when he asked me and, to my shame, my insecurity broke through. For probably no one knows how intelligent, talented and wise Erik actually is more than myself. Intimidated by his suave sophistication, I would have never visualized being his bride. Yet, I knew without a doubt that he loved me. It was evident in his intense eyes when I would catch him contemplating me with his piercing, searching gaze. At such times, he would quickly turn away and I would see him breathe deeply.
The conflicting emotions tore through me once more as I heard the pipe organ softly begin to play a melody. Smiling, I looked forward to the day. It was Sunday, the Opera was closed and Erik was always filled with intriguing plans for such times. I was well aware that this suspended state of events could not continue for much longer. I must give Erik an answer and both options terrified me.
After bundling up my hair as best I could, I placed a steadying hand on my abdomen and opened the door. Automatically drawn to his side as he wrought such heartbreakingly beautiful music seemingly without effort from the organ, I stood watching him with my hands behind my back. It seemed nearly blasphemous to disturb him although I had a vague notion that he could sense my presence. As though intuiting my thoughts, he stopped playing and turned slightly. A familiar, uncomfortable and simultaneously exhilarating shiver ran through me when his eyes met mine. Like a timorous doe, I hated myself that I could never keep his gaze for long. Even though half of his face was masked, Erik never looked at me with indifference. Shyly walking towards him, I asked gently "What is it you are working on?"
For long, disquieting moments, he merely stared at me while I kept my gaze on his music. Without taking his penetrating eyes from me, he whispered in that velvet voice, "Nothing of import, my Dear." Each time I heard his voice, it was as though the resonance of it cast a spell on my innermost being. I actually felt sorry for the people who would never hear Erik's voice speaking casually, let alone raised in song. For his impeccable, faultless register could move the most callused human being to tears.
Forgetting myself, I looked up at him and I was surprised by an extreme desire to remove his mask. Why I would wish to do so was beyond me but the feeling was so incredibly strong that I could not dismiss it. Perhaps in the back of my mind, I hoped for another of his passionate, searing kisses but I did not stop to analyze it. Abruptly, I asked in a small voice, "Erik.....may I remove your mask?"
His dark eyes widened and I could literally see him shudder at my entreaty. Clearing his throat gently, he gazed at me warily. "Why would you wish to do so, Christine?"
Although I didn't even have an answer for him, I shook my head while keeping his gaze as though captivated. "I...I don't know....." I whispered timidly.
Erik's head tilted curiously and he looked at me for long moments while I gawked at him as though I were an idiot. Taking a deep breath, he turned to me on the bench and took my hands. Immediately, my fingers intertwined with his and I squeezed gently as I attempted to reassure him. "Erik.....I....I won't be frightened." Swallowing hard, I continued and spoke my thoughts aloud. "I just....want to see you."
He inhaled sharply at my words and looked down towards the carpet. Inside my mind, I silently pleaded with him to allow it. Biting my lip, I waited and told myself not to appear disappointed with his inevitable answer. Surely, he would never feel comfortable removing his mask when unnecessary. For a minute, I almost apologized for my request and told him that it was not important but deep inside me, I knew that it was, although I did not know why.
Suddenly, his head shot up and he looked at me with an expression I could not place. Closing his eyes, he nodded briefly with a pained expression.
Feeling as though I emerged triumphant from a hopeless battle, I impulsively kissed the back of each of his hands. His eyes remained closed and his only movement was the rise and fall of his chest.
Carefully, my hands left his and raised to untie his mask. Mentally bracing myself for the sight of his disfigured face, I slowly removed the mask. Holding it in my hands, I looked upon the man whose genius surpassed anyone I had ever known or heard of. His face was so indicative of his life - beauty and ugliness, magnificence and despair. How much he must have suffered in solitary anguish without comfort. A fierce protectiveness clutched me as I indignantly imagined the injustices he'd endured. In blinding clarity, it occurred to me that I loved him. I loved Erik. Gasping at this revelation, Erik misinterpreted my intake of breath to mean that I was shocked by his appearance and turned his head in shame. Dropping the mask heedlessly, I took his face in my hands and ignored his wince. Gently, my fingers touched both his handsome and appalling visage. I loved him. Utterly stunned by this revelation, I involuntarily whispered my thoughts aloud. In an awed whisper, I breathed, "I love you....."
Erik's eyes flew open and he stared at me, slack-jawed and incredulous. Unexpectedly, I smiled back at him with the dawning awareness and whispered it again in wonder. "Erik........I love you!"
Unable to keep the bubbling joy inside me from my expression, I drowned in the exhilaration of knowing that I had, at last, found my home. For so long, since Father had died, I had been without a safe place to land. Frantically, I had searched in vain. Now, there was absolutely no hesitation in my mind. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. For the moment, nothing mattered except that I loved him. Why I'd never comprehended this truth before was inconsequential. Taking his hands again, I looked down shyly as I realized I would be his wife. Without looking at him and uncertain of how to express my aspiration, I asked bashfully "Erik, aren't you going to say anything?"