Chapter 15: Misunderstandings
Christine stood up. She looked up at him, trying to think of something to say. She had practiced a speech in the bathroom, but she couldn't remember any of it. She found herself wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, crying into his chest.
Erik didn't know how to respond. Plenty of women had cried over him before, but this felt different than those times. Those women had been horrified of him and would never have hugged him.
"I'm so sorry," Christine sobbed again.
Erik awkwardly put his arms around her, feeling like that was somehow the wrong thing to do. She didn't protest so he didn't move.
"Don't be. I know it looks terrible, my dear," Erik murmured, unable to resist from using the endearment. It was a small consolation for himself, as he wanted to pepper her face with kisses and nuzzle his face against her hair, overwhelming himself with its soft flowery scent.
"No! It's a great thing to do for someone and I misunderstood. Lillian told me and I was so stupid and believed her," Christine said, unable to bring herself to look at him.
"Lillian told you about it?" he asked, very confused. He was certain that the housekeeper had never seen his face before. "Did Raoul tell her?"
"No, she heard over the phone," Christine sobbed.
"What?!" Erik cried, pulling back so he could hear her properly. "Who told her? I've never removed my mask for anyone I-"
"Your mask?" Christine asked, frowning. What did his mask have to do with any of this?
"Yes, I've made sure that no one has seen me without it on, except for Raoul, whom I thought should know. I don't know how Lillian heard about it," he said, touching the leather self consciously, making sure it was properly in place.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Lillian never said anything about your face to me," she said, reaching up slowly to cup his face in her palm.
He watched her hand warily as it moved towards his face, expecting her to try and remove it, but much to his surprise she only set her hand on it, running her thumb lightly over the material.
"I- Honestly I've never really thought about your face," she confessed. "I figured you wore the mask for a reason and that wasn't my business."
Erik's eyes widened as he looked at her. He would spend the rest of eternity kissing her if he could just for that statement alone.
"You… you don't mind it?" he whispered.
Christine's brow puckered.
"Why should I?"
"Because it's odd. And- and no one has not cared about it before. It bothers everyone for at least a little while," he said.
"I'm sorry, Erik. That's terrible. They shouldn't care," she said. Something occurred to her, causing her eyes widened. "Did you think that I was avoiding you, and I wouldn't sing the song or do the show… because of your face?"
She was a little afraid of his answer.
He looked down at his shoes and nodded slightly.
"Oh my god," Christine gasped, pulling away from him. She turned away and tried to calm herself down a little, but any poise she had left was gone as her heart broke for the man behind her.
"Christine?" His voice came softly in her ear and she felt his hand on her shoulder. He gently turned her back around, looking at her tear stained face with great concern.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm so, so sorry."
Without thinking, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him down to kiss her. He hesitated for a moment before enthusiastically kissing her back.
He utilized the moment to memorize the feel of her in his arms, the way her hair felt woven around his fingers, the weight of her head cupped in his hand. He wanted to remember it all.
"Would you like to sit down?" he asked when they broke apart, grateful she had picked such a private table. She nodded and he pulled out a chair for her, before seating himself across from her.
She was unable to meet his gaze still while they sat in silence. Curiosity ate at him.
"If you weren't upset because of my face," he finally asked. "Why were you upset with me."
"Lillian listened to your phone call a few days ago. I think she only heard the part where he offered to televise the whole show and give you all the free advertising. She told me and I- Artie's like my dad, or uncle, or something. He and my dad were best friends. They were buddies in college and after my mom died, Artie called my dad and asked him to move to Maine so they could open the inn together. They went to war together in the both wars. My dad promised to stick to office work, but they sent him into combat and he died. That's when I went to New York and met Meg and started working," she explained in a rush. "When I thought you were taking advantage of Artie, I wanted to kill you."
She let out a peal of sad laughter.
"I watched the show tonight and ran all over town trying to find you," she admitted. "Will you forgive me?"
Erik was silent for a long time, processing what she had said. It made plenty of sense now.
"Of course I will, my dear," he whispered. "I love you."
Christine sucked in a deep breath at his words. He realized what he said and his eyes widened.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he said quickly.
"It's alright," she squeaked, unsure what to say. Did she love him? Is this what love felt like? Is that why his supposed plan to televise the show felt like such an enormous betrayal and why it hurt so much to get on the train to leave him? She looked at him, searching for the answer, but before she could find it he spoke.
"You don't feel the same way," he sighed. It was to be expected. As soon as the words left his mouth he had regretted saying it. How did he know if he loved her? Raoul kissed random girls all the time and he doesn't love them.
But Christine wasn't a random girl. She was… her. And he wasn't Raoul. He was no Don Juan, able to reel women in left and right like Raoul could. As he had known him, Raoul always seemed to have one girl or another nearby. They were all sweet, but meant very little to Raoul emotionally. Erik didn't want that. He wanted someone (he would never admit this to Raoul) who would settle down and have six children with him. Not for that selfish bastard's enjoyment, but because he desperately wanted what had always been denied of him: A family.
He knew Christine would never want that with him. She probably had a young, handsome boyfriend in some town she and Meg had performed in. He probably wrote her love letters every day. She had probably been lying when she said the mask didn't bother her. She probably hated it and him and had wanted to run away ever since they sat down next to each other in New Orleans.
Erik stood up.
"I apologize. I shouldn't have said anything," he said. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and left some money on the table. "Pay for the drinks with this."
He grabbed his coat and hurried off before she came to her senses.
She blinked at the money and watched him go. Without thinking she ran after him, calling his name. She attracted the stares of others as she went but she didn't care. He hadn't given her a chance to finish her sentence.
"Erik wait!" she called when she reached the street, looking around frantically for him, but he had disappeared into the night.
She went back inside, trying to hold back tears. She was convinced that maybe with the exceptions of her parents deaths, she hadn't cried more in her whole life than she had in the past few days.
She hated him for a second before regretting it and taking back those thoughts. She was tired of being confused.
Christine walked back to her hotel, sniffling the whole way. She nearly sobbed when a little old lady hobbled up to her in the lobby and asked if she was okay.
"I'm fine," Christine said. "Or I will be. It's just a man."
"Oh. A man," the lady sniffed. "You're far too pretty to be crying over any man. If you see him again, smack him, or send him my way and I'll do it for you."
Christine laughed and smiled.
"Thank you," she said before continuing up to her room.
She threw herself onto the bed and sighed. Why couldn't they ever have a normal conversation? They were both grownups. They should be able to solve their problems without one of them storming running away. At least it wasn't her fault this time. If he had waited for her to continue… but would that have helped? She had still hesitated. Love was a big emotion. How could she love someone she had known for a week?
She chastised herself for letting herself get mixed up in the whole thing. She was supposed to be the sensible one. These were the kinds of things that happened to Meg, not her. She couldn't flit about with mysterious men, kissing them in public locations at odd hours of the night. She had to take care of Meg, make sure she didn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere. She couldn't go off and get married-
She halted that train of thought. No one said anything about marriage. It was a couple of kisses that made her weak in the knees and caused her to smile when she thought of his hands on her waist and hips and in her hair. But she did think for a moment what she would do if Erik knelt down and pulled out a velvet box with a ring inside. Sparklers went off in her stomach thinking out it.
She stood up and got herself ready for bed, willing the sparklers to go out, but it never happened and she fell asleep thinking what it would be like falling asleep next to Erik.
Erik had gone back to the restaurant minutes after he left, hoping Christine would still be there, but she was gone. He would punch himself in the face it he could. Christine had reached out to him after he had begged her to talk to him and he had ruined it by letting feelings get in the way. He wished he could take back those cursed words.
He fell asleep on the bed, still in his clothes.
He was confused when he woke up with the sun hitting him in the face and his jacket half on. He had apparently tried to remove it in his sleep.
After a shower he quickly packed and went down stairs. He had a train back to Maine that morning so he could oversee last minute preparations for the show. He wanted to try to find Christine before he left but knew he didn't have the time.
Raoul and Meg were waiting when he stepped off the train in Perros.
"Is she with you?" Meg asked hopefully, standing on her toes, trying to look around him for Christine.
"No," Erik said simply.
"Did you see her?" Raoul asked.
"I don't case to discuss it," he sniffed, climbing into the car.
The ride back to the inn was tension filled, to say the least. Meg wanted to know everything he knew about Christine, Raoul wanted to hear about everything in general, and Erik didn't want to talk about anything.
"I saw her before I was on the show," Erik finally snapped. "We spoke very briefly and then I had to go. We met up afterwards and…"
"And what?" Meg asked impatiently.
"Nothing. It was small talk really," he said. He saw Raoul and Meg exchange a glance and glared at them. "Don't get any ideas. Nothing happened or ever will."
"We weren't going to do anything," Raoul grumbled as he parked the car outside the inn.
"Of course not," Erik sighed. "Now, what has to get done?"