Chapter 20: Erik's Engagement in Paris

[featuring: "The Moment You've All Been Waiting For" and "Tall Tales of the Little Aristocrat's Father"]

Christine stationed herself at the parlour window, watching raindrops trail down the glass. Behind her, the door opened and someone shuffled into the room.

"Mr. Y," she greeted her guest indignantly without turning around. She scowled at the faint reflection of him in the window.

"Madame de Chagny," Erik replied with a slight bow.

Christine's heart beat furiously at his voice, but she refused to give the slightest bit of acknowledgement toward her feelings, no matter how much she wanted to race into his arms. This was the man who broke her heart too many times to count.

And yet, she'd let him do it again.

"Hmph. I am no longer Madame de Chagny," Christine said proudly.

"Mademoiselle Daae, then?"

"Madame Daae." Christine turned around and haughtily stuck out her chin. "I'm hardly a little mademoiselle anymore."

"Yes, I suppose you are not," Erik said as he admired Christine's matured beauty. On the boat ride from New York, he'd entertained doubts about what he was doing, and seeing Christine again only confirmed that his love for her was not what it once was.

It was better.

His rapid heartbeat was the rhythm to the symphony erupting in his mind as he took in the sight of his beloved. Erik could capture the melodies on paper later, but now, he had to ensnare the woman first.

"May I ask what brings you to Paris, Mr. Y?" Christine leaned against the windowsill and folded her arms across her chest. "You're here on business, perhaps?"

"Yes, I have an engagement...with you."

"With me?"

"Christine..." Erik approached her breathlessly. He dropped to his knees and pressed her hand to his unmasked cheek. "I have braved several bouts of seasickness and crossed the Atlantic Ocean to ask for your hand in marriage."

"Marriage…" Christine whispered, revelling into the word as he kissed her hands. She was about to swoon into his arms, but when he rolled up the sleeve of her dress, she came to her senses and slapped Erik across the face.

"Ow!"

"Oh! You horrid, horrid man!" she shrieked. "How dare you come here and ask about marriage after everything you put me through. You're lucky I didn't remarry already after that letter you sent me. Why, every widower in Paris was just begging for my hand in marriage," she lied.

"Oh, I'm sure they were," Erik humoured her as he rubbed his cheek in pain.

"Hmph," Christine sniffed when she saw his smirk. "Well, have you grown bored with Meg Giry already? I must say, I thought you'd last a little longer than this."

"Please, don't mention Meg Giry," Erik groaned. Though it pained him to admit it, Meg had been but a distraction from his grief, and he didn't need a reminder of his behavior toward her.

"I'll mention her all I want!" Christine screamed. "Meg Giry! Meg Giry! Meg Giry!"

"Christine, stop this nonsense!" Erik grabbed her hands and laughed as she struggled to break free from his grasp. "Christine, I wrote you no letter. It was a fraud."

Christine paused her struggle; her eyes went wide. "A...fraud?" she whispered. "No...No! I don't believe you!"

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that because it's the truth!" Erik smiled and brought his lips close to her ear. "Christine, I love you…" His voice was but a breath.

"You...love me?" she whispered.

"Yes, Christine, I love you, and I always have!" Erik professed dramatically. "Sending you away was the most foolish mistake I ever made!...Well, right after abandoning you and sending you away the first time..."

"Hmph. And what about that night all those years ago?" Christine scoffed. "Do you still consider that one of your mistakes too?"

"No, Christine. That was most certainly not a mistake," Erik whispered again. "Christine, can you ever forgive me..."

"Oh…" Her breath caught. "Yes. I suppose I can forgive you," she said, fighting to remain composed when Erik's lips grazed her jaw. "Then...then you really didn't write that letter?" Christine was still trying to grapple with how the tortuous last few months could've been a blatant lie.

"I did not write it, and I had to go to Raoul for your new address because I didn't receive your letters either," Erik whispered slyly. "You must repeat the contents to me."

"I will…but you must finish your proposal first," Christine replied with equal slyness, quite satisfied that her ex-husband knew the extent of Erik's desperation. She'd waited months, years, for this moment and she wasn't going to give it up. Christine didn't have to think hard to guess who was behind the fraudulent letter, and after she moved to America as Erik's wife, she would not hesitate to make Meg Giry's life absolutely miserable. How dare that insolent girl meddle with her happiness!

"Ah yes…" Erik fell to his knees again and kissed her hands again. "Mazandaran has been missing its mistress, Christine. What do you say? Will you consent to returning to America as my wife?"

"Yes!" Christine squealed. She threw her arms around Erik's neck and knocked the kneeling man to the ground. "Oh! I missed you so much!" she cried as she smothered him with kisses.

On the other side of the door, the elderly maid was dying with curiosity about her mistress' odd guest. There'd been shouting, but now there were only hushed whispers that the maid couldn't comprehend, even with her ear pressed to the closed door. After formulating the perfect excuse to bother them, she knocked on the parlour door.

"What do you want! I'm busy!" Christine snapped. The maid's eyes widened in shock when she found her mistress lying on the floor in the arms of the mysterious Mr. Y.

"I...uh...I was wondering if you and your guest would like tea, Madame."

"No! Go away!" Christine waved her arm to shoo the woman out of the room, but her temper was assuaged by Erik's kisses trailing down her neck and his murmurs for her to be nice.

"Alright, Madame," said the maid as she shut the door. Apparently the tabloids were to be believed about her mistress' promiscuity.

Erik lifted Christine in his arms and set her on the sofa.

"Good idea. This is a much better place," Christine said as she leaned close to Erik for more kisses. "Or better yet we can go to my-"

Another knock on the door interrupted Christine.

"Mother, it's me. I'm home from school," said Gustave on the other side of the door. The maid had warned him not to enter the room, but when Gustave learned Mr. Y was paying a visit, the boy was willing to take his chances with his mother's temper.

"Can I please see Gustave? I've missed him," Erik begged before Christine could send their son away.

"Fine," Christine grumbled when Erik stood up from her arms. "Come in, Gustave!"

"Hello," the boy said as he meekly peeked around the door. "Mr. Y, what are you doing here?"

"Gustave!" Christine exclaimed as she fled in Erik's arms once more. "We are engaged!" She kissed Erik's lips, and though Gustave was confused by the public display of mushiness, he smiled at the two overjoyed adults and offered his congratulations.

Gustave wasted no time in spreading the news of his parents' engagement and bragging to his friends that he would no longer be a bastard.

"And we're going to be moving to America," Gustave said nonchalantly. "But don't worry, we'll write often, and you guys come visit Phantasma someday!"

The schoolboys cheered at the prospect of visiting the amusement park and eagerly ripped pages from their composition books so they could write down their mailing addresses. Gustave had a stack of crumpled papers in his hand when he noticed a familiar face standing outside the schoolyard gate.

"Mr. Y! You're here!" the thrilled Gustave shouted. He ran across the schoolyard, gesturing for his friends to follow so they could meet his father. The pack of boys stood in awe of the tall man in expensive clothing. So, Gustave hadn't been lying when he said his father wore a mask. But of course, the little aristocrat hadn't needed to lie when trying to make his father sound interesting. The man truly was larger than life.

Erik shook hands with each boy and answered all their questions about living in America and running an amusement park. He chuckled every time someone asked whether Gustave had been lying when he had said this or that. Erik hadn't realized Gustave had told his friends so much, but it warmed his heart that his son was so proud of his father.

Gustave made his final goodbyes to each of his friends, promising to write often. The boys who lived in the opposite direction were disappointed when they had to part ways sooner than the others. They waved over their shoulders and shouted goodbyes to the little aristocrat as they walked down the street. The remainder of the boys stuck with Gustave and his father as they walked home, but one by one, they said their goodbyes and turned down different streets.

"Thanks for walking me home today!" said Gustave when he was alone with his father.

"You're welcome! Your mother thought you'd appreciate my coming," Erik replied. Christine was looking for ways to bring Gustave closer to his birth father, and, of course, she was pleased to see Erik when he arrived at the flat.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" Christine exclaimed as she wrapped her fiance in a tight embrace.

Erik was walking on cloud nine as Christine dragged him into the parlour and sat him beside her on the sofa.

"We must finish making our wedding plans!" she said.

"What more is there to do?" Erik asked. He and Christine wanted to get married as soon as possible, so the wedding was this weekend. Erik had already booked their passage to America and notified the Giry's by telegram of their expected arrival date. He'd already fought with Christine's landlord to break the lease on her flat. What was he forgetting?

"Erik, we need to decide where we're going for our honeymoon," Chrisitine said before placing a kiss on the end of his nose.

Erik grinned. He'd been so absorbed with getting married and bringing Christine and Gustave back to America, he'd completely forgotten there was a honeymoon to be enjoyed in between. Looks like he'd have to book a different passage to America.

"Well, where would you like to go?" Erik asked. He'd traveled a great deal, but most places either wanted his head or were tainted by painful memories. They weren't the sort of places he'd bring his new wife and son.

"Hmm...I'm not sure," Christine replied, though she'd thought a great deal about it. The most obvious choice would be a trip to her Scandivian homeland, but she and Raoul had gone there on their honeymoon, and it seemed like bad luck to do the same thing again. As a vicomtesse, she'd taken holidays to Europe's most fashionable cities: Vienna, Florence, London… London had been rather rainy; they'd had to stay indoors a great deal, but that could make it a wonderful choice for a honeymoon.

"Have you ever been to Spain?" Erik asked.

"Spain? No, I don't think I have," Christine replied. "What made you think of that?"

"I've never been there myself." Erik shrugged. He'd traveled east with a band of gypsies, making it to Russia and Persia, all the way to east Asia, but he'd never traveled west to France's neighboring country of Spain. He'd be safe there. "I think it's the perfect place. What do you say, Christine?"

"I say, let's go!" Christine clapped her hands in delight as she thought of sunny Spain.

"Excellent!" Erik rose excitedly from the sofa. "Saturday afternoon is the wedding, so we can leave by train that night and arrive in Madrid by morning-"

"Erik," Christine said as she pulled him back to her arms. "We can't spend our wedding night on a train, now could we?"

"Oh, I suppose we couldn't," Erik replied, his unmasked cheek growing pink as Christine pressed her head against his chest. "Alright, we'll spend the night in Paris and leave for Spain the next morning. Sound better?"

"Yes, I think that sounds wonderful!" Christine sighed and leant closer to Erik as she thought of the wedding and their future life together. It should've been like this all along, but now it was finally happening.