The next couple of days were spent in much the same simple way, Erik working on another composition while Christine read a book, with voice lessons in the afternoons. The weather had turned rainy, so there were no more picnics, and they spent the time indoors. Erik felt content and relaxed, but noticed that each day the young woman seemed a little tenser, and not quite as warm towards him. There were not as many endearments, and she didn't laugh as often. His inexperience with women led him to think she was growing tired of him already, and that he had been right not to propose marriage at the beginning. He was uncertain how to proceed now, and his old habit of withdrawing emotionally began to assert itself, making him seem distant and cool.

On the fourth day, during their practice session, he corrected Christine a little more sharply than usual, "No, not that way! Once more, just as I instructed you!" and she suddenly burst into tears and ran from the house. He followed, only to find the wooden door of the cottage shut firmly in his face and hear the bolt sliding shut, effectively locking him out.

"Christine, please, let me in!" he cajoled. "Go away, leave me alone!" was the reply in a choked voice. "I'm sorry, Christine, please talk to me!" he pleaded, to no avail. He tried repeatedly to get her to open the door, but with no answer, so he gave up and returned to the house, puzzled. What had he done wrong? Over the years, he had often been brusque towards her as he taught her; it was just his manner, if it was somewhat egotistical. She had always taken it in stride and meekly submitted to his suggestions during her voice training; this must be about something else.

He slumped in a chair, his fears realized. He knew this would happen; she had rushed into this relationship to escape Raoul, much the same way that she had rushed into Raoul's arms when she was afraid of the Phantom, and now she regretted this, also! Was his brief happiness over so soon? He should have known; he was not destined for anything good in this life.

His despairing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and he opened it to find Henri, the landlord, delivering his mail. He thanked him, took the two letters, and once again walked to the cottage, this time to convey a letter to Christine. She refused to answer his knock, so he slid the letter under her door and walked resignedly away.

His own letter was from Madame Giry, and it began with good news. Antoinette wrote:

"My dear friend,

I presented your letter to the managers of the opera, and very soon afterward was summoned back to the office to hear their reply. Congratulations are in order, for your opera has been a huge success, and they enthusiastically desire to purchase the right to continue the performances. They accept your terms, and I enclose the first installment. (Erik noted the substantial sum of the check, and nodded to himself.) They wish me to invite you to submit other works for consideration, and ask me to convey their sincere admiration of your talent.

I am very happy for you, Erik, for this seems to assure your livelihood in the future. I have told you for years that the world would appreciate your talent and skill once they heard your music, and am gratified that I was correct in that assumption. It also pleases me that you are out of the cellars and into the world, and I hope you will thrive there.

Only one thing concerns me, and that is your relationship with Christine. My dear, please think of her reputation, and permit her to come back under my care if you do not intend to marry her. I was remiss in allowing her to leave with you, and I fear that her very innocence will be her undoing. Please understand me, I wish you to be happy, but I feel a responsibility for Christine's welfare, also. This is a delicate subject, especially on paper, but I feel you will know what I am trying to say and respond appropriately.

Again, my congratulations, and do keep in touch,

Sincerely,

A. Giry"

While reading the letter, Erik's emotions went from satisfaction at the royalties on his opera, to elation at the appreciation of his talent, to dismay that his good friend could think him so depraved as to take advantage of the innocent girl in that manner! Surely he had made it plain that marriage was the only thing he wanted from Christine? Or had he? Maybe he had never said it in so many words, but only an utterly degenerate man would take advantage of a true lady in that way. Did Antoinette think so little of him?

While he sat musing over this, Christine, barely recovered from her emotional outburst, was reading her letter from Madame Giry:

"My dear Christine,

I hope this finds you well. I must let you know that the Count de Chagny approached me today to retrieve his ring, informing me that you had written to him and broken your engagement. He asked for information on your whereabouts, and I merely said that I was not at liberty to share that with anyone. He had some unsavory comments to make about your character which I will not repeat here, but it gave me reason to think I have done you a disservice by allowing you to leave here with Erik.

Christine, since I am the closest thing you have to a mother, I feel I must speak frankly. You were raised as a lady, despite the circumstances that have made it necessary to work in the theater to provide your support. Forgive my bluntness, but you were taught that a lady is only to be intimate with her husband, yet I fear the worst since you have been alone with Erik for days. Has he proposed marriage? If not, please, my dear, return to us here in Paris. Your reputation is in danger the longer that you stay with him, and as much as I consider him to be a friend, I am afraid that he does not live by the same standards that you and I hold to be true. Please, Christine, do not consider being his mistress. You deserve a loving husband and a family, and you are endangering that future by the life you are now living.

I hope to hear from you soon, or to see you sooner. Meg sends her love, also.

With concern and affection,

A. Giry"

Christine, whose emotions were already torn by this very subject, cried the entire time she was reading the letter. Now she knew it was true, since Madame was even aware of it….Erik didn't want her as a wife, he only wanted a mistress! She sobbed uncontrollably; embarrassed that she had ever thought this was leading to marriage. What a fool she must seem to Erik!

When she finally ran out of tears, she began to pack her few things, preparing to return to Paris as soon as she could obtain a ride. She didn't know how she could bear to leave Erik, but she couldn't stay here and be his…his… concubine! No wonder he hadn't said the words, "I love you" or asked her to marry him….he hadn't been raised the same way she had, and probably didn't believe in love and marriage! The more the thoughts whirled in her head, the angrier and more sanctimonious she felt, and she started to throw things in the suitcase roughly. Gone was the sympathy for the way he had lived, the feeling that their souls had been joined…all she felt now was indignation! How dare he treat her this way!

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and she ran and flung it open. It was Erik, wishing to share his news and clear up their misunderstanding. "Christine, are you all right? I've been very concerned about you" he began.

"No, I'm not all right! she yelled at him. "And you needn't worry about me, I'm leaving here and I don't ever want to see you again! I hate you! Just leave me alone!" the girl shouted, slamming the door shut once more and locking it.

He was too stunned to attempt an answer, and stumbled down the steps and across the yard to the house in profound shock. He slumped down onto the sofa, mouth dry and heart pounding, as if he had been physically attacked. "Oh, God," he thought, "she hates me!" Then aloud, "Oh, God!" and groaned in anguish, slipping to his knees in front of the sofa. This had caught him totally off-guard and vulnerable. What cruel fate had played this trick on him, allowing him these days to love her more, and then snatching her away without even knowing what he had done wrong? How could he live now? He began to weep helplessly, and that is how Christine found him a little while later.

She was feeling so mean and self-righteous that she stopped in to berate him once more on her way to ask the landlord for a ride into town. When she opened the door to the house, she heard a heartrending sound, like an abandoned child wailing in the night, beyond comfort, beyond hope. As she walked into the living room, she saw Erik slumped on the floor, arms on the sofa and head down upon them, crying as if his very soul was in anguish.

That sight melted Christine's pride instantly, and broke her heart. "Oh, Erik!" she cried, coming closer. He heard, and lifted his swollen, wet face to brokenly croak, "Why, Christine, why do you hate me so!" in a voice choking with tears. He couldn't face her to hear the answer, and put his head back down, shoulders heaving with emotion.

"Oh my God, this is my fault, this is all my fault!" she cried out. "Oh, Erik, I don't care if you don't want to marry me, I'll be your mistress, just don't cry like this, my love!" She slipped down on the floor beside him and cradled his hot head in her arms. "I don't care what they say about me; I can't bear to see you hurt like this!"

She repeated it over and over, but the sense of it did not get through to the despairing man, and he spoke through a throat swollen with his sobs. "Just go, leave me, forget all of this" he rasped harshly. "You deserve more than a monster for a husband!"

"Erik, listen to me!" she cried, and tried to lift his head so he would look at her. He wouldn't budge, but his crying had quieted, so she spoke to his bowed head. "I said I won't leave, you don't have to marry me. I don't care what the world says about me, I'll stay." At his continued silence, she now began to cry again herself, face buried in her hands, and this finally reached him.

"Christine," he attempted, raising his head, and it came out in a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat, and tried again, a little louder & somewhat urgently, "Christine, what are you talking about? I have always wanted to marry you, I just wanted to give you time before I forced you into a decision. Is that what all this is about?" He pried her hands loose from her face, and made her look at him. "Talk to me!" he shook her by the shoulders, not gently.

She trembled, "I can't! I've said too much already; you must think I'm shameless to have spoken so!" Her face was pink from crying and from embarrassment.

"Christine, it is time to have all of this in the open!" Erik stood unsteadily, muscles sore from the awkward position on the floor, and drew her up to sit beside him on the sofa. "We must have an understanding; I cannot handle any more uncertainty." He took out a pocket handkerchief and wiped the tears first from her face and then his own, somewhat calmer now. "I thought you wanted to be with me, but something has changed for you, and I'm not sure I understand. I received a letter today from Antoinette Giry, saying some awful things about my intentions towards you….and now I'm wondering if she didn't write something of the same to you."

Christine nodded, feeling rather ashamed. "She said what I have been thinking…that I misunderstood your purpose in bringing me here and should return to Paris immediately, because my reputation is in danger."

Erik shook his head sadly. "I had not realized how it must look to you. I wanted to give you time to know your own mind, to get to know me better, but it seems I only created an ambiguity which has hurt you. I am sorry, my dear. Our circumstances were so unusual, and I am so unsure of myself….and I wanted to make this all perfect for you. Apparently I was wrong to wait."

Erik took a deep breath, bolstering his confidence against one more rejection. He stood, hesitated as if offering a brief prayer first, and then dropped to one knee on the floor, taking her hand. "Christine, I love you. I have loved you since the first time I heard you sing, and I will love you for all eternity. All I want is to spend my lifetime with you, if you will have me. Will you marry me?" He spoke solemnly and slowly, waiting for the answer that would either make or break him.

She searched his face with her eyes, unable to grasp for a moment that this was it, the declaration of his intentions that she had wanted so desperately! Then exultation swept over her, and a smile quickly dawned as she answered, "Yes, Erik, yes, I will marry you!"

Erik looked into her face intently, trying to discern her true feelings. "Be very, very sure this is what you want, Christine. I don't want any misunderstandings; I would rather know now if you have any doubts. You are young, and have your whole life ahead of you...are you sure you want to spend it with a man with a deformed face and a less-than-desirable past?"

She put her hands on each side of his face, and looked him straight in the eyes, saying earnestly, "Erik, if my father were here, he would tell me that you are a good and kind man, and deserving of all my love. And I remember him saying, even young as I was, that true beauty is what lies within a person, not on the face that they can take no credit for one way or another. You are beautiful inside, and talented, and I am thankful that God has allowed me to know and love you. If it pleases Him topermit it, I will be your wife for the rest of my days, totally devoted to loving only you."

Erik leaned forward to kiss Christine's lips, inwardly thinking that if there were a God, he was eternally grateful to Him for the miracle of this love. He rose off his knees to join her on the sofa, kissing her again in a sealing of their promises to each other. Christine melted into Erik's arms, feeling his heartbeat against her body and feeling secure at last in his love.


Author's Note: If you want to lighten up with a humorous version of the story, I highly recommend free2bfroody's "Angel of Mute". Hilarious, clever and sexy!