Chapter 25: Realizations and Regrets

[featuring "The Joys of Motherhood", "A Marital Idyll", "A Doctor's Examination", and "Melting Frostiness"]

~ Summer 1910 ~

"Hmph. Well they certainly didn't waste time," Meg grumbled to her mother when they learned Christine was expecting a baby.

The news spread quickly down to the last servant at Mazandaran. Although the household had been initially displeased when Erik married Christine, the staff soon learned Mrs. Y was surprisingly sweet and extraordinarily charming instead of the demanding, high-maintenance woman they'd feared she'd be. And, of course, Christine was the only one with any chance of keeping Erik's temper in check.

The sole person who found reason to hate Christine was her ex-best friend Meg. The ex-dancer walked into the solarium where she and her mother quietly spent their afternoons, but instead of peace and quiet, Meg found her mother laughing away with Christine on one of the sofas as the two women bonded over the joys of motherhood.

"Hello, Meg," said Madame Giry. "I was wondering when you'd join us."

"Hello, Mother," said Meg stiffly. Christine sensed the young woman's frostiness toward her.

"Well, I suppose I ought to be going," she said as she gathered her embroidery supplies.

"You're welcome to stay," Madame Giry insisted.

"No, I'm going to find Erik. He promised me a walk today. Good day to you both."

Christine stood gracefully from the sofa and strode out of the room, her cheeks rosy with the glow of an expectant mother. When Christine was gone, Meg plopped herself into the recently vacated seat beside her mother.

"Since when are you and Christine all friendly?" she snapped.

"Well, she's always been the daughter I never had," Madame Giry replied smugly.

"Hey!"

"Oh, Meg, I'm only teasing," Madame Giry said as her daughter smacked her shoulder. "You know all the girls in the corps de ballet were like extra daughters to me, and as your best friend, Christine was especially dear."

"Ex-best friend," Meg corrected.

"Well, perhaps it's time you two girls made up."

"No. I don't think so." Meg crossed her arms and slouched into the back of the sofa. There was no way she was apologising to Christine after the woman's snobbery and smugness at how differently their lives turned out.

Madame Giry sighed at her daughter's stubbornness and silently continued her embroidery. Before her retirement, she'd never been one for needlework, but she needed something to keep her sane when her beloved daughter often had the opposite effect.

Christine and the baby were progressing healthily, but she tired more easily when she and Erik took walks together. Whenever Christine exhausted her energy, Erik would find a shady place to sit in the garden and enjoy the fresh air. On this particular day, Erik rested his head in Christine's lap and admired the blue sky overhead as his wife stroked his dark hair now speckled with silver.

"So there's really a little baby in there?" Erik asked as he pressed a hand on his wife's swollen stomach.

"Mmhmm," Christine replied proudly.

"Wow! That's marvelous, absolutely remarkable!" Erik exclaimed. "I don't understand why men are considered the dominant sex. I think women are, by far, our superiors."

"You and me both, Erik."

Christine smiled and breathed in the salty air of the coast. It warmed her heart that Erik was so excited about the baby, and she found it endearing that he was so in awe of the life growing within her. Christine's peaceful expression, however, was suddenly replaced with a troubled one.

"What's wrong?" Erik asked.

"Erik, I'm rather tired. Do you think we could return inside?" Christine fanned herself with her hand to ward away the heat of late summer.

"Of course, my love," Erik replied, even though he could've stayed here with his wife for eternity. He helped her to her feet and led her back to the house.

"Christine, are you alright?" Erik asked as they climbed the steps to the terrace. His wife was terribly pale and was clinging to him for support.

"I'm fine," she said shortly. "I'm just rather tired. I think we walked a bit too far today."

Erik nodded silently and gripped her tightly. When they made it to Christine's chambers, she collapsed on her bed.

"I'm fine," she insisted before Erik could inquire over her health again, but her insistence did not alleviate his worries.

Erik waited anxiously in Christine's boudoir as the doctor examined her in the bedroom next door. His head shot up when the door opened and the doctor entered the room.

"Your wife has a rather curious scar on her abdomen," the doctor commented. "She told me she was...shot?"

"Yes. It was a few years ago," Erik replied, wringing his hands with worry. "Why? Is that bad?" The doctor gave him a blank stare. "The scar, I mean, not the getting shot," Erik clarified.

"Well, she was complaining of some pains," the doctor explained. "I would imagine the bullet damaged her organs. Because she is with child, her organs are shifting, which could explain her discomfort."

"Will she be alright?" Erik asked nervously.

"I'm afraid I haven't met a woman in your wife's situation before, but I would say there is added risk," the doctor hypothesised. "I advise you to be careful there are no more children if your wife survives-"

"IF?!" Erik shouted. A look of horror spread across his face.

"Sir, wait!" the doctor said as Erik sprinted into Christine's bedroom. He shook his head and sat on a sofa to wait for Erik's return.

"What's wrong, dear?" Christine asked when Erik barreled into her bedroom like a bull in a china shop.

"The doctor said he was questioning you about your scar," Erik said breathlessly as he knelt at Christine's bedside.

"Yes. I told him I was shot, but of course he didn't believe me," Christine grumbled. "He thought it was from a poorly done cesarean procedure."

"Yes...well did he tell you anything else?"

"Oh, no. The doctors just poke and prod women before they trot off to tell our husbands what's the matter with us." Christine rolled her eyes.

"Well, he said childbearing is very risky for you," Erik explained. "He said if you are to survive, we must be sure there are no more children."

"What! Oh, no!" Christine sobbed. "I'll have to sleep alone for the rest of my life!" She'd only just found marital happiness, and how it would be cut short because she'd been shot by her ex-best friend.

Erik frowned. He thought Christine would be disappointed at the prospect of no more children or, at the very least, be worried at the possibility of dying.

"Christine, don't worry about that. There are ways around it," Erik said. Christine gasped and smacked his shoulder.

"Erik, that is sinful." She should've known this man would lead her down the path to eternal damnation, but Erik rolled his eyes. He committed plenty of sins in his life. This one would be low down on the list of severity.

"Alright, Christine," he said in exasperation. "Right now, our number one priority is keeping you healthy. I'm going to finish talking to the doctor."

"Bring him in. I have a thing or two to say to him," she grumbled as Erik left the room. She huffed when Erik and the doctor did not return. Stupid men, always making the decisions without consulting her.

The doctor urged Christine to rest for the remainder of her child bearing months, and so, she resumed her status as the invalid of the Louis-Philippe room. Her chair at the table remained empty during meals, and she could no longer take walks with Erik in the garden. Christine's absence from downstairs was a blessing to Meg who no longer had to fight for her own mother's attention. Her mother was her only reliable companion these days, and the last thing Meg wanted to do was share the woman with her ex-best friend.

"You should be more sympathetic," Madame Giry told her daughter one afternoon. "Christine's complications are because you shot her."

"Hmph," Meg huffed in response. She crossed her arms and slouched into the cushions of the sofa.

Since when was her mother so pious, droning on and on about "sympathy" and "forgiveness"? The woman was quick to bring up Meg's past mistakes, but Christine was an angel who couldn't be touched, even though the ex-opera diva had been making poor life choices since at least the eve of her wedding to the Vicomte. Funny how no one ever mentioned that at Mazandaran. Until they were held to the same standard, Meg had no interest in reconciling with Christine, nor would she be offering any sympathies.

I couldn't care less if Christine died in childbirth. I wish the shot had just killed her in the first place.

Meg's posture went rigid the moment the malicious thought formulated in her head. Did she really wish death on Christine?

No. She didn't want that at all. When she'd shot Christine, she'd cried for days, worrying she'd killed her best friend.

Her best friend.

They weren't close like they used to be, but Meg and Christine had been best friends once, sisters even. Could they be that way again?

Before Meg could change her mind, she left her mother and dragged her feet to Christine's chambers. Erik answered her knock on the door and led Meg to his wife's bedroom where Christine was propped up against her mountain of pillows.

"Hello, Christine," Meg said timidly with a glance toward Erik. "Could I speak to you alone for a moment?"

"I'm sure whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of my husband," Christine replied curtly. She was in no mood to speak to her ex-best friend, especially if it meant Erik was sent away.

Meg rolled her eyes at Christine's rude reply. She'd recovered the heartbreak from Erik's marriage, but that didn't stop Meg from hating Christine's smugness and snobbery.

"Christine," Erik said sternly, sensing the tension between the two women. "I'm going to work in my study for a bit. I'll visit you later this afternoon."

"Fine." Christine folded her arms and huffed when Erik placed a kiss on her cheek. She glared at Meg as the man left the room.

Without being invited to sit down Meg helped herself to the chair beside Christine's bed.

"I don't think I properly congratulated you on the new baby," Meg said, trying to collect her thoughts. "So...congratulations."

"Thank you." Christine smiled and absentmindedly placed her hands on her stomach, waiting for Meg to continue.

"I want to apologize," Meg said finally. "I'm sorry I shot you and made you feel unwelcome. When Raoul took you back to Paris, we left things off rather badly, so I understand why you're being cold to me now. I want you to know, I bear no hard feelings against you for marrying Erik, and I just wish we could be friends again." Meg held her breath at the end of her speech as she waited for Christine to reply.

Christine cocked her head, looking curiously at the woman in front of her as the weight of Meg's words sunk in.

Finally, she spoke, "I think...I think I would like that too, Meg."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Christine grinned. "Meg, I'm very sorry for being so frosty, especially the last time I was here." Christine hunched her shoulders as a blush crawled across her face. "Meg, I have a confession to make...I was terribly jealous of you back then."

"Jealous of me? Whatever for?"

"Because you were with Erik all these years. I know this sounds so foolish and petty, but I guess I felt you'd stolen my rightful spot."

Christine sighed and sank shamefully into her pillows as she recalled the heartbreak of waking up to find Erik gone and the sense of complete and utter betrayal upon learning he'd run away to America with Meg Giry instead of her.

"What, did you think he was in love with me?" Meg scoffed.

Christine shrugged and averted her eyes toward her lap.

"I didn't know what to think, Meg. I could tell he cared for you a great deal, and when I learned you loved him the way I did, I thought there had to be something between you two...But well, now we know that is not the case!" Christine giggled cheerfully, but Meg rolled her eyes.

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh!" Christine's laughter cut short. "I'm sorry, Meg. I didn't mean it like that…"

"It's alright." Meg extended her hand toward Christine. "Friends again?"

"Best friends!" Christine pushed away Meg's hand and pulled her into a hug instead. "Oh! I'm so happy! Meg, you must promise to visit me often. I get so lonely up here!"

"Of course," Meg replied. She'd been lonely too with no one but her mother to talk to, but now her silly feud with Christine was over. Now she had her best friend back.