Christine and Erik sat once more on the sofa, their new understanding of each other making both more at ease. "Christine, it is late. I am torn between wanting to continue our conversation, and knowing that you have had an exhausting day….what do you wish to do?"

"I'm not tired, really." She insisted. "I couldn't sleep now if I tried, and once I leave, I will have to deal with Raoul again, which I'm not looking forward to. Are you very tired?"

"No, my dear," he answered. "I require little sleep, and nighttime is when I do most of my composing." He went on, after a slight pause, "What do you mean, 'deal with Raoul'?"

"Erik, I don't love him, I know that now. What I felt was merely infatuation, and it is over. I see his jealousy and possessiveness, and all I want is to be somewhere that he can't get to me, because I'm afraid he won't let me go easily. Even if we pretend this was a kidnapping, he will try to force the details out of me, and I don't want to share this with him!" she insisted, becoming agitated. "I have to find some way to break off this engagement in a way he will understand and accept."

"What if you were to write him a letter explaining how you feel, and then disappear for a time?" he asked, with an idea beginning to take shape in his mind. "No, but you wouldn't want to leave the theater just after your starring role has begun, though your understudy does have a fine voice of her own," he mentioned.

"So you've been watching Amy, have you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him in mock jealousy. "I suppose she'll be your next pupil?"

"Heavens, no!" he exclaimed. Erik's inclination was to take everything seriously, and he didn't realize Christine was teasing him. She laughed, and he relaxed, asking "Was that a joke?"

"Yes, my dear, I just wanted to see your reaction. Actually, you're right; she does have an excellent voice, and would do well in the part of Aminta. And I would be more than content to end with one performance, since no other partner could compare to you," she admitted, the heat rushing into her face as she remembered their steamy scene on stage earlier that night.

Erik drew in a breath suddenly. "Christine….." he said in a low, intense voice. "Are you teasing me again?" He was abruptly aware of all of his flaws, of how absurd it was to believe she could desire him the same way he wanted her. He had forced that performance tonight, making her sing words of his choosing just so he could hear them from her. Before she could answer him, he stood and announced, "I think I am weary and would like to sleep, after all." Will you stay here tonight, and we can discuss your plans further in the morning?"

She was puzzled at his unexpected change of tone, but concern for his exhaustion overcame any personal considerations, and she allowed him to lead her to the room where she had changed clothes earlier, where there was a small bed for her use. Before he could leave her, she moved closer to him and lightly kissed him on his exposed cheek. "Thank you, Erik," she said quietly.

He was startled at the kiss, the first he could remember receiving from anyone, and said only "Good night, Christine, sleep well" as he turned towards his own bedroom. He lay awake for some time, going over the events of the day, tossing and turning as he remembered all of the touching things she had said and done, and thinking of things he wished he had said differently. Finally, the long day caught up with him, and he slept.

Christine also lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above her, which flickered in the light of the candelabra she had left burning. What did she want from Erik? Who was this man whose very voice set her quivering with longings she did not totally understand? She was physically attracted to him….he was so very masculine and his arms had such strength, yet his hands were gentle and warm. He had not said he loved her, and yet his song, at the end of their duet….had he really asked her to share one love, one lifetime, with him? She didn't know him very well yet, but her heart cried out to ease his loneliness, show him that he was worthy to be loved. He was so sensitive, and his music was so beautiful. Was it just that he needed her, that she wanted to mother him, protect him? Then she remembered again how it felt to have his arms around her, and she sighed….no, it wasn't just maternal instinct, he made her conscious of herself as a woman, in a way that Raoul never had.

Thinking of Raoul disgusted her now….he was almost dainty in his habits, afraid to get his hands dirty, so particular about doing just the right thing in the world's eyes. He didn't have an ounce of passion in him, and his kisses awoke nothing in her. He wasn't a man, just a spoiled boy, almost effeminate, and she didn't understand why she had thought she could marry him. Eight months had totally cured her of that notion! Oh, it wasn't fair to drag Erik into this, but she needed help to get free of Raoul, he would not let her go easily. She drifted into an uneasy sleep, which turned into a nightmare of Raoul chasing her through the corridors of the opera house. He had a rope in his hands, and he was going to murder her! She screamed out Erik's name!

"Christine, wake up!" Erik sat on the side of the bed and softly shook her. "Christine, you are dreaming, wake up!" Ever a light sleeper, he had heard her scream, and rushed to her room. She fought him for a moment, and then opened her eyes, gasping. "Erik! Oh, God, he was going to put the rope around my neck! Hold me, please!"

She sat up and clung to Erik, who held and rocked her until she was calm. "Hush, dearest one, it's all right now, it was just a dream, I won't let anyone harm you." She snuggled closer, and then lifted her face, inches from his own, with her eyes shut. He kissed her eyelids, then her cheek, and then found her lips with his mouth, a first hesitant kiss that was all comfort and sweetness, and then held her tightly again, realizing what he had just done. She accepted his reassurance, calm and feeling secure now in his strong arms. He suddenly became conscious that in his haste, he had not put his mask on, and began to pull away, desperate to get out before she could see him. Christine opened her eyes at his movement, saw his face, and uttered a low exclamation, just "Ohhhh…"

He was already in the next room when she called out "Erik, please, don't go." He reached the sofa in the main room and sank down, covering the ruined half of his face with his hand. Christine followed him, and sat close beside him. "Erik, please, it will be all right. I have seen your face, and it doesn't change how I feel about you. Come, love, let me prove it to you." He shuddered, but did not turn around. "Erik, dear, look at me."

The many years of hiding his loathsome face would not allow him to face her voluntarily. How could he bear to watch the woman he loved draw back in fear of him again? The unaccustomed tears started once more, but he was helpless to stop them. He became aware that Christine had knelt in front of him, hand on his arm, begging him to look at her. He glanced up, and what he saw in her face momentarily stunned him….it wasn't pity, or disgust; she was looking at him with such kindness and concern that he began to sob in earnest, covering his whole face with both hands. He was so unnerved that he didn't even protest when she drew his hands down and kissed him, first on his good cheek and then on the scarred one, soothing his head with her small hands, stroking his hair, trying to reassure him. She knew instinctively that he had not cried like this in a very long time, and needed the release to begin to heal his wounded soul, so she held him tenderly, praying, "God help me to reach him, to let him know he is no longer alone."

When Erik's heartrending sobs finally quieted, Christine found a cloth which she dipped in cool water to wipe his reddened eyes and hot face. He was too wrung out even to protest her aid, and when she coaxed him to lie back on the sofa, he did so without argument. When she tucked her body against the length of his, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist, he freed the arm she was lying against and drew her closer with it, kissing the top of her head and allowing her stillness to calm him. This was heaven, and who was he to refuse it? Worn out from all the emotional upheaval of the night, they both drifted back to sleep.