Hi everybody,

I hope you have not all abandoned me after the last chapter, and you will still have faith in me after this one, for I need your continued support to keep writing stories! Therefore thank you all for reading, for adding to favorites, putting on alert, and most of all, for those precious reviews some of you are leaving me!

Now the bad news; First, I am not sure if I can update next week, and I most definitely will not be able to update in two weeks. So you might have to wait as long as 3 weeks for the ext chapter.
Second, as to this chapter: things must get worse, before they can get better. That's what is happening now, sorry!

On to the next chapter, and keep in mind that I do not own those characters..

Chapter 17 – Help Me Say Good-bye

Never before had Christine wished so much to be able to join her father in death. To leave it all behind, the hurt, the betrayal, the pain Erik had caused her. Maybe she should just take a few pills, then lie down and sleep, never to wake up again. She would be at peace then, all her sorrows forgotten, and she would be with her dear papa again.

This would have been the perfect solution to her problems. Her broken heart would find solace that way, and she would not have to keep her promise and marry Raoul. She shuddered at the thought of Raoul becoming her husband with all the rights that would give him over herself – her body. Once or twice she came very close to buying a huge package of sleeping pills in order to escape this fate, but then she remembered Meg, and she could not do it. No, becoming Raoul's wife was her destiny, there was no way around it, unless she wanted to put Meg at risk. Bubbly, warm-hearted Meg, whom she loved like a sister and who would pay the price if Christine did not marry Raoul now.

Christine closed her eyes in despair. As much as she dreaded her upcoming wedding, at least that way she could give her life purpose again. Her life, that had become so meaningless, now that she had lost everything, her father and her beloved Erik, the Angel her father had sent her and who had betrayed her. But at least she would keep Meg safe, until her friend would be fully recovered. For Meg she would go through with this wedding.

Xxxx

Mme. Giry was worried. Meg's accident had rendered her daughter pretty helpless. The doctor had advised Meg to move as little as possible – not that Meg could move around much with the plaster – in order to let the ankle heal. For the next few weeks at least Mme. Giry would therefore not be able to leave Meg and go to London as she had originally planned and as she felt she should do, since there still were no letters from Erik, even though by now the reopening of "The Music House" must have happened already and he should have more time to write. Mme. Giry was convinced now that something was preventing Erik from writing. She had no idea what that could be, but had a feeling that it was bad. Very bad. She was getting really worried.

And then there was Christine. The girl was only a shadow of her former self, a lifeless shell. She walked around and performed her duties as if she were running on automatic, a forced, fake smile on her face, but with eyes that knew nothing of smiles and laughter, eyes that seemed dead.

"She knows it, too," Mme. Giry thought, "that "The Music House" reopened a while ago, that Erik should be able to write by now, but obviously doesn't do it. She is worried, too,..."

When she caught Christine alone for a moment, she hugged her foster daughter and promised her, she would go to London and try to find out what had happened to Erik, the moment Meg's plaster would come off – assuming they had not heard from him by then.

Christine nodded, smiled her fake, sad smile, and said with trembling voice, "I know." Then she ran off, before she started to cry in front of the ballet mistress. Oh, what would it help now to go to London and talk to Erik! He already had made his decision, had started a new life with a new bride, a rich heiress, whose dowry comprised a theater he could run.

Her hand reached into the pocket of her dress for the flier Raoul had given her, the proof of Erik's betrayal. Christine had not found the courage yet to tell Mme. Giry of this development, had not been able yet to talk about the fact she now knew why Erik was not writing any longer. It seemed so inconceivable, hurt too much to even think about it, let alone speak it out loud.

Xxxx

The three weeks passed quicker than Christine would have wanted, and soon the day of her and Raoul's wedding arrived. To explain her absence, Christine told Mme. Giry she was going to her father's grave, which she had neglected during the strenuous rehearsals for "Le Nozze di Figaro". But instead of to the cemetery she went to the de Chagny-estate, where she met with Raoul and the priest from a nearby church, where Raoul had had the banns read the previous few weeks.

The ceremony took place in the living room, the cook and the butler served as marriage witnesses. When it was over and done with, Raoul paid the priest, who left quickly.

Raoul then turned to Christine and grinned. Now she was his! Now she could not escape him any longer. "Let's go to our room," he said, lasciviously licking his lips.

"What... I... I should go back now," Christine mumbled, shocked at the realization what he had in mind. "I need to get ready for tonight's performance..."

"No, not yet," Raoul replied. "There is still time. I have waited so long to make you mine, I can't wait any longer. You just promised in front of God and two witnesses to be my wife, now keep your promise."

"Please," Christine whimpered, "I am not ready, give me some time..."

"As you wish," Raoul's voice was calm, but barely concealed a threat. "Just keep in mind that it depends on your attitude whether or not we can keep Meg on the payment roster. It is your choice, your decision."

Christine almost collapsed. It took all her strength to remain standing, even though the room seemed to turn around her. "Is this an ultimatum?" She finally managed to ask.

Raoul grinned. "A choice," he repeated. "You make me happy, Meg will be fine. You refuse me, Meg is out in the streets. It is that simple. What is your answer?"

Christine wished she could drop dead that very moment. How much more could she endure? Would she really have to submit to Raoul right now? She had hoped that it would be night when she would be forced to consummate this marriage, that her nudity would be sort of shrouded in darkness and thus her dignity would be at least somewhat preserved. But it was still plain daylight. Having to strip in front of Raoul would be beyond embarrassing.

"I do not have all day," Raoul interrupted her thoughts. "Are you coming up with me now or not? If not, I need to get to the Opéra Populaire at once to prepare Meg's release papers..."

Christine closed her eyes. There was no escape now. She had to do it, for Meg's sake, and also, because she had promised it in front of God. She was honor-bound to let Raoul have his way with her. "Yes," she whispered.

"I knew it!" Raoul exclaimed, grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs to the master bedroom. Once inside, he looked at Christine and told her, "get naked!"

Christine obeyed and endured. She closed her eyes so that she would not have to see what Raul did to her, and pretended that all this was happening to another person. For if she acknowledged that it was herself suffering through all these indignities and humiliations, she would have died with shame. "For Meg", she kept telling herself over and over again. "This is for Meg."

After about an hour, Raoul finally took his fingers off her naked body. "It's time to go back to the Opéra," he said. "As much as I'd like you to stay au naturel since your body is really most delicious, you should get dressed now."

His words brought Christine back to reality. She opened her eyes and tried to cover herself with her arms and hands. "I need to take a bath," she mumbled, as she noticed the blood and sticky substance between her legs.

Raoul shrugged. "Sponge yourself down a bit," he told her, "but quickly, we need to get going!"

Xxxx

When they finally arrived at the Opéra Populaire, it was very close to the start of the performance and everybody was already nervous because Christine was nowhere to be found. Mme. Giry knew that Christine had wanted to go to her father's grave, but that had been hours ago, and apparently Christine had not returned from the cemetery yet. Could something have happened to her?

Firmin and André were about to call the police to ask them for help to find their missing diva, when the de Chagny carriage stopped in front of the Populaire and Raoul exited with Christine.

Raoul lead her into the main foyer and announced to the nervous group of people – André, Firmin, Mme. Giry and some of the performers – that he and Christine had gotten married earlier today.

"What?" Mme. Giry shouted at him. "This is impossible! You must have coerced her somehow. This is not valid, I will make sure you will have to release her!"

Raoul smiled innocently. "I am afraid, Mme. Giry, you are mistaken," he told her. "Christine married me out of her own, free, will, didn't you, Lotte?" His hand hardened the grip around Christine's, and she nodded obediently.

"I doubt it," Mme. Giry continued. "Anyway, you just married today, the marriage has not been consummated yet. An annulment will be easy, Christine."

"You are wrong again, Madame," Raoul retorted. "Christine is already my wife in every sense of the word. An annulment is not possible any longer. And may I ask you not to get yourself involved in our private life?" His eyes sparkled dangerously at the ballet mistress.

Then he turned to Christine. "I take it, you need to get ready for the performance, Lotte?" he asked.

Christine nodded and walked towards her dressing room. Mme. Giry followed right behind her. "How could you do this?" she asked Christine once they were alone. "I know Erik has not written in a long time, but I am sure there is a good reason for it. I know he still loves you. What will you tell him, once he gets back in touch?"

Christine could not hold back her tears any longer. Without uttering a single word, she reached into the pocket of her skirt, pulled out the announcement about the concert to celebrate Erik's and Amanda-Ann's engagement and held it out to Mme. Giry.

Mme. Giry looked at it and paled. She could not believe it, did not believe it. It could not be true. Erik loved Christine, she was certain of it, and even though he cared for little Amanda-Ann, he would never prefer her to Christine.

"Where did you get this?" she asked Christine.

"Raoul got it from his contact in London," Christine's voice sounded dead. "These things were distributed at the opening of "The Music House". Erik obviously got offered the chance to take over the theater if he married her. And I... well, I do not own a theater."

Mme. Giry was furious. "Something is not right here," she exclaimed. "Erik would never do that! I will go to London and find out the truth. Immediately. I should not have waited that long."

Christine shook her head. "No," she pleaded. "Please don't. Erik has made it clear that he wants to cut his ties with us. He has not written in months. We have known for a long time, have we not? We just did not want to accept the truth, coming up with all sorts of explanations and excuses. We have been pretending, when the truth has already been staring us in the eyes. If you confront him now... it would not only be pointless, but also humiliating. Just think about it! He must have been courting this heiress for a while already, probably since about the time he stopped writing. Do you have an idea how many letters full of love I still wrote to him when he was already pursuing that... her? I have made a fool out of myself, waiting for him and trusting him. He is probably laughing at me now!"

Mme. Giry sadly shook her head. She still could not believe it, but apparently Christine did. And she was hurt and felt used. Christine had been hit so hard by this, that she had not been able to think clearly. She must have wanted to hit back. That's why...

"That's why you married the Vicomte," Mme. Giry finished her thoughts aloud. "To get back to Erik, to show him that you felt no more bound by your engagement than he apparently did." She put a stress on the word apparently, which was lost on Christine, though.

"No!" Christine wanted to scream. "Not for that reason, but because of Meg!" But she had decided she would never tell the Girys about her sacrifice, and what she now knew she would have to endure as Raoul's wife. So she simply nodded and looked down.

"And is it true," Mme. Giry asked, "that you and the Vicomte, that you have already...?"

Christine nodded again. There was no purpose in denying it. "This afternoon," she mumbled, "right after the wedding..."

Mme. Giry sighed. It was too late then, anyway. Even if there had been false play, as she suspected, there was no way now to get Christine out of this marriage. An annulment was not possible anymore, and a divorce was probably impossible, unless the Vicomte wanted it too. But he had just gotten what he had always wanted, he would not release Christine any time soon. Maybe once he'd gotten tired of her. Christine would therefore have to live with the consequences of her rushed action for the time being, and Mme. Giry had a feeling as if Christine was already regretting her decision to marry the Vicomte. She did not look like a happy bride at all.

Xxxx

Amanda-Ann was leaning in a comfortable armchair, her delicate features pale, her huge blue eyes troubled like a stormy sea. "When will my friend Erik be able to come for a visit again?" she asked. "I thought I would be able to spend some time with him at the opening, but he was so busy, he did not have much time for me, and I wanted so much to thank him for making this happen and to discuss the wonderful play and performance with him."

Carl Stanton smiled comfortingly at his daughter. "You know that his friend has been very ill," he reminded her. "And from what I hear this Mr. Khan is still convalescing and rather weak..."

"I hate this Mr. Khan!" Amanda-Ann blurted out passionately. "For keeping Erik from us!"

"Erik?" her father asked, "not Monsieur Erik?"

Amanda-Ann blushed. Of course she always addressed Erik properly as "Monsieur", but in her thoughts she always called him Erik. Her Erik. When he was there, she felt strong and healthy, as if he were somehow giving her strength. Or as if he were her sun that warmed her, her light, her... everything.

"I... meant to say Monsieur Erik," she stammered, embarrassed that her father had caught her at this slip of her tongue. "I wish he were here now. We could talk about our play and maybe start thinking about what we want to perform next, and..." She turned an even deeper shade of red.

Mr. Stanton looked his daughter deep in the eyes. "You miss him that much?" he asked slowly. It seemed as if the dreaded moment had come. The moment when Amanda-Ann would realize the nature of her feelings for his employee.

Amanda-Ann nodded. Her father's apparent understanding suddenly made her want to explain her feelings in more detail. "I always thought that I would only ever have you, papa," she confessed. "But Erik, I mean Monsieur Erik, he is just as important to me. Or more, or not, but it's different," She shrugged, looking helplessly at her father.

"It is hard to describe," she confessed. "But with Erik I feel strong and confident. I feel whole. He accepts me, even though I am not as strong as other girls, though much stronger now with him than I used to be, and when he is here, I feel like... like I am walking on clouds and oh he is so strong! When he carried me in all those weeks ago, so that I would not get wet... I wish he would always be there to protect me and to teach me, to guard me and to guide me... Life is just bland and boring if he is not here!"

Mr. Stanton's brow furrowed. That was more serious than even he had expected. "You love him that much?" He asked gloomily.

"Love? I do not..." Amanda-Ann stopped in mid-sentence, as realization hit her. "Love," she whispered. "Is that what it is like to be in love? Yes, I guess, I do..."

She looked at her father and smiled. "I hadn't realized, but I do... love him." Now that she knew what her feelings for Erik were, she could not understand any more why it had taken her so long to realize it.

"Do you think Erik loves me as well?" she asked, but did not wait for her father's answer. "I am sure he loves me," she continued. "Erik is always so kind to me, he treats me like a lady, not like a stupid child, he... he would not do that if he did not love me, or would he?"

"He seems to care for you, but.." Mr. Stanton tried to get his daughter's attention.

Amanda-Ann did not listen. Her thoughts had just gone one step further. "Do you think," she asked shyly, "that Erik will... ask you for my hand in marriage? Would you allow it? Oh please, papa, I know he is only your employee, but I love him so much!" It felt so good to say it. She loved Erik, her Erik! Oh, how beautiful the world suddenly was, what an incredible turn her life had just taken!

"I fear Erik Givenould will not ask for your hand in marriage," Mr. Stanton interrupted his daughter's dream.

Amanda-Ann's face fell. It suddenly took on a greyish color. "Why not?" she asked nervously. "Do you think he does not love me? Have you already discouraged him? Is that why he is staying away?"

She was getting very agitated. Mr. Stanton knew he had to calm her, if he did not want her to succumb to a seizure. "Calm down, Amanda-Ann," he therefore tried to comfort her, "I just meant to say he might not ask because he does not want to be considered a fortune hunter that would only want you for your money."

Amanda-Ann laughed. "That would be a very stupid thing to believe!" she said. "We know that he loves me for myself!"

"But he is an honorable man," Mr. Stanton reminded his daughter. "And therefore he might harbor such concerns."

"Then we have to make him understand that we know his true motives and that he does not have to fear that we might think he loves my money more than me!" Amanda-Ann explained. "Do you think, papa, that you can explain that to him?"

Mr. Stanton sighed. The prospect of begging Erik to marry his daughter did not appeal to him, but since her health and happiness seemed to depend on it, he might have to do just that. And he realized that it had maybe been a mistake to shelter her as much as he had done, not to prepare her better for the sorrows life brings about. Despite her 17 years, she was still a child in many ways and ill prepared to deal with unrequited love. "I will see if I can find an opportunity to give him a hint," he therefore promised. "But give me time. It may take a while."

"Thank you, papa, you are the best!" Amanda-Ann was smiling again, dreaming of a future with her dear Erik.