The rest of the week went quite normally - practicing music together, a bit of gardening, errands here and there, and thankfully no weeping. Saturday rolled around and Erik was in quite a mood the entire day. Christine did not think he had sat down or been still once since he had awoken early that morning.
He swept the floors in a frenzy, constantly checking each room to be certain nothing was out place. He looked so wound up that Christine took pity on him and insisted that he let her take over his current task of dusting, which he allowed her to do. She hoped that he would then take a moment to rest after all of his work, but she was disappointed to find that instead of resting, he had begun to wash all of the windows.
When finally he ran out of household chores to do, he began to cook. Christine watched as he gathered ingredients and lined them up on the countertop, pulled knives from drawers and placed plates and bowls here and there so he could mix ingredients as he needed.
"Would you like me to help you?" she offered.
He shook his head.
"No, my dear, I am quite fine, I assure you."
"Are you sure? You've been going all day without taking a break," she fretted.
Erik stopped and stared at her. She was frowning, a look of concern marring her pretty face. He forgot, sometimes, with all of his concern over her own wellbeing and happiness, that she worried over him as well. She had told him on numerous occasions that his health and happiness were vital to her health and happiness (although he could scarcely believe such a thing could be true - still, it was more believable than his sweet Christine lying), had told him that she worried over him when he didn't get enough rest or food (which was often - less often now that she was in his life, but still more often than she would like).
"Oh, Christine," he breathed.
He walked around to the other side of the countertop and pulled her into a gentle hug, softly kissing the top of her head through the silk of his mask.
"It's alright, sweet. Erik promises - tomorrow he will do nothing but sit out on the porch with his feet up and watch the clouds go by, how does that sound?"
"Hmm... Will Erik let his wife bring him lemonade and cookies and sit beside him?" she asked as she snuggled against him.
"That sounds like absolute perfection," he said tenderly.
But then the sweet moment ended as Erik unceremoniously (but still reluctantly) pushed her away.
"Not now, though, Christine - I must finish dinner!"
She raised an eyebrow and watched as he went about the kitchen in a blur of nerves and movement. Oftentimes she would help him to cook, but tonight seemed to be one of those nights he'd prefer to do everything herself, so after a few moments of being soundly ignored, she left the kitchen and went to go read a book in the library upstairs.
Nadir looked at his pocket watch. He was rather early, so he took his time looking at all of the flowers that lined the pathway up to the door. He really hoped that Erik was not merely pulling one over on him - if this was truly where Erik lived, well, he was quite happy for him. It was a lovely house, and a vast improvement on the stuffy old cellars of the Opera Populaire. Finally he reached the door - still early. He shrugged to himself. It couldn't be helped. He knocked, visions of Erik's possible tricks on him playing in his mind. Perhaps some stranger would answer the door - perhaps Erik had sent him to some random house where he would have to explain what exactly he was doing on their doorstep, admiring their flowers and asking if dinner was ready yet and the inhabitants would assume him insane.
There was a pause before the door slowly creaked open just a crack. A yellow eye peered out at him before the door was opened wider.
"Daroga," Erik said ominously.
"Hello, Erik," Nadir greeted him.
"Won't you come in?" he asked solemnly, his demeanor more fit for a funeral than dinner with a friend.
Nadir entered the house and breathed a silent sigh of relief at the realization that all of the decor and furniture seemed so normal - he had half feared that the walls inside would be painted black, or that Erik would have filled it with macabre decorations. He noted the very modest number of candles with satisfaction.
Once he was actually inside the house, Erik began to fidget nervously. Nadir looked around before turning a questioning look to him.
"My- my wife is here," he said defensively. "She was here just a moment ago. I'm not sure where's she gotten to now."
He gave a strained little laugh before calling out for her.
"Christine!" he called, wringing his hands.
Nadir raised an eyebrow at the ensuing silence.
"She exists, Daroga - she does!" he practically sobbed.
Nadir sighed. Poor Erik.
"She's here somewhere, she just- CHRISTINE!" he turned and bellowed, anxiety causing a cold sweat to break out on his brow. Where was she?!
Nadir opened his mouth to tell Erik it was alright, to try to placate him somehow about his clearly non-existent wife, when they heard the footsteps of someone running down the hallway.
Christine had lost all track of time while reading, the library in the furthest upper corner of the house. Her heart sprang to her throat to hear Erik calling for her so desperately and she ran as fast as she could to see what the matter was. She was on the verge of asking if he'd set the kitchen on fire again when saw the guest standing in the entryway.
"Oh!" she stopped short, her eyes wide - she had half expected dinner to only consist of herself and her husband, but here was the long-promised friend after all.
Erik took a single step back, drawing himself up to his full height and, pointing a spindly finger at Christine, he gave Nadir the haughtiest look he could muster underneath of his mask.
Christine's brow furrowed a moment, unsure of why she was being pointed at, but she gave the Persian man a warm - if somewhat nervous - smile.
"You must be the Daroga," she gave a little curtsy.
Nadir's shoulders sagged. Heaven help him if both of them insisted on calling him by his old title - and wouldn't it be just like Erik to tell her that "daroga" was actually his name?
"Please - please, call me Nadir," he bowed to her.
"It's lovely to meet you, Nadir," she smiled, glancing at Erik who had crossed his arms and tilted his head back in a display of triumph.
Nadir looked her up and down. She seemed normal enough, so far. She didn't appear to be in any obvious distress, and seemed to have her wits about her.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Christine."
"Won't you come in and sit down? Dinner is very nearly ready, I believe," she motioned for him to follow her as she started down the hallway to the kitchen.
Erik placed a talon-like grip on the man's shoulder and hissed, "I told you she was real," before releasing him to follow Christine.
She found Erik had already set the table - indeed, Erik had already prepared everything, and all that was left to do was sit.
Once they had settled around the table Christine poured a cup of tea for each of them. There was an air of awkwardness to everyone expect for Erik, who seemed quite pleased with himself.
Nadir cleared his throat.
"So, Christine..." he trailed off, uncertain of what to say, but Christine looked at him expectantly so he had to continue. "Erik has told me about you."
She nodded and smiled.
"I can't help but wonder, how did you two meet?" he finally asked.
Her smile faded and a strange look crossed her face for a brief moment. Erik's shoulders stiffened and he looked at Christine with something close to guilt and remorse shining in those strange eyes of his.
She giggled nervously and began to fidget with her silverware.
"Oh- oh, that- it's quite a long and... complicated story, you see... We met... well, at the Opera Populaire, of course - and Erik, er, he... he gave me singing lessons, and- and I think that sums up pretty much all there is to tell, doesn't it, dear?" she glanced anxiously at Erik.
"Yes, entirely!" he nodded vigorously before taking a sip of tea. Christine's gracious retelling of the story had mercifully glossed over Erik's myriad questionable choices and actions, for which he was eternally grateful. The Daroga would never let him live it down if he found out that Erik had pretended to be an angel, of all things - Erik shuddered just to think of the look on the man's face when he found out.
Christine looked back to Nadir, anxious to change to subject before he could pose any further questions about how they met or their early relationship.
"How did you meet Erik?" she quickly turned the question back on him, her smile back in place.
Erik choked on his tea. Nadir looked down at his own cup of tea, suddenly appearing to have lost his appetite.
"Oh, that's... quite a complicated story, as well..." Nadir hesitated.
Christine merely nodded. Erik was a complicated man, it only stood to reason that any story involving him would be complicated, too.
Erik briefly considered taking another sip of tea and choking on it purposely this time - perhaps if he were busy choking to death Christine would be sufficiently distracted from hearing the Daroga's tale of meeting Erik.
But such a thing was not necessary - Nadir seemed just as intent on avoiding that particular piece of history as Erik was.
Nadir looked up from his teacup with a wide smile that seemed just a little too stiff to actually indicate real joy.
"Besides," he grit out. "When you've been friends as long as we have, it almost seems as if we've always known each other. Who can even remember when or how it started?"
Erik brought his hands down on the table a little harder than was strictly necessary and Christine jumped at the sudden noise.
"Who is ready for food?" his tone bordered on a demand - he was already sick of hearing his friendship with the Daroga discussed.
He didn't wait for any sort of answer after his odd question, simply standing and turning to walk into the kitchen. Christine sprang up a moment after him.
"Excuse me," she glanced back at Nadir as she followed her husband into the kitchen. "We'll be right back!"
Nadir stifled a sigh. He had been hoping to speak with her alone for a moment.
Erik was secretly glad when he noticed that Christine had followed him. Who knows what nasty thing the Daroga might say to her about him when he was out of the room? Together they carried the food out to the table.
Each one breathed a secret sigh of relief now that there was something other than their relationship to Erik to be discussed. But still-
"What a lovely fish!" Nadir exclaimed. "Ah, but Erik - I see you've set the table with only forks. Would you be so kind as to indulge my rather odd request for a spoon, perhaps?"
Erik stared at him, and Nadir managed to suppress the nervous fidget he felt rising in him - a feat only accomplished from long years of practice under those glaring yellow eyes.
"Fish just tastes better when eaten from a spoon," he continued, and turned to Christine. "Wouldn't you say too? Have you ever tried it?"
"Oh, I can't say that I've tried that before, but I do imagine it would taste... different," she offered politely.
Erik narrowed his eyes at the Daroga. Food was food and it would taste the same no matter what utensil was used. What was he playing at? But still, it wouldn't do to cause a scene so early in the evening - if he kicked the man out of the house before the food was even tasted, Christine would surely question whether or not the man was truly his friend if he couldn't even stand to be around him for less than an hour. He sighed internally. Marriage and friendships were hard, but they were worth it, he supposed. Well - Christine was worth it, at least.
They both watched as Erik stood up from the table and walked to the kitchen, nervously glancing behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Nadir immediately leaned forward to Christine.
"Are you alright?" he whispered urgently. "Do you want me to create a distraction so you can escape, mademoiselle?"
She arched an eyebrow and frowned deeply.
"It's madame, and no, that will most definitely not be necessary! How much is he paying you, anyway, to pretend you're his friend?"
"Paying me?" he snorted. "Sometimes I wish he did pay me... But no, our acquaintanceship goes back a long time."
"Well that's terribly rude of you, then, to try to get me to escape from him!"
"Forgive me, but, ah - I was under the impression that, ah... perhaps you were not here willingly," Nadir shifted nervously.
The conversation was cut short as Erik entered the room, placing the spoon down on the table in front of Nadir before sitting down once more.
Christine reached a hand out to Erik's wrist, squeezing it just a little.
"Dearest, I'm so sorry, but could you please fetch me a glass of red wine? I know it doesn't really go with this kind of fish, but I do so enjoy it anyway..."
Erik merely nodded, his eyes lingering on his wrist where she was touching him, and stood once more, this time walking to the wine cellar instead of the kitchen.
With plenty of time now bought, Christine turned back to Nadir.
"I assure you that I'm here of my own free will - there is no place I'd rather be, in fact. I know Erik can be very..." she hesitated, searching for the right words. "Erik, and I know that it might not make much sense to anyone else, but I do love him very much..."
Her cheeks colored but she continued.
"He is so very dear to me, even if he is a bit much to deal with at times. I'm quite happy with my life here - with my life with him."
"And you're not just saying this because he made you?" Nadir felt terrible for having to ask, but he knew he'd feel even worse if he left that night with even the slightest doubt about whether or not Christine was truly being held prisoner.
"Made me?" she wrinkled her nose. "I am quite certain that Erik can't make me do anything if I don't want to - I've always been rather stubborn, I'm afraid."
It was true, much to chagrin and dismay of all her teachers throughout her life - including Erik. The only thing that had kept Erik from frustratedly tearing out what few strands of hair he had left was the fact that Christine had trusted that he wouldn't ask anything of her that wasn't in the best interest of her career - although of course that didn't mean that she didn't still question him at times.
"If anything, I'm the one who makes him do things - though not on purpose, of course. He would do anything for me, I think," she smiled a little wistfully. "He insisted that I chose the house we were to live in, he buys me anything I wish - and then some - and he never asks for anything in return. I mean, he is only human-" she chuckled, a little nervously, knowing that Nadir did not have any background context for why she would find her husband's humanity amusing. "-and of corse he has his moments - don't we all? - but on the whole he cares for me so much, and he takes every opportunity to show me that. He-"
She heard footsteps approaching and quickly fell silent. Christine regretted that she didn't have more time to continue their secret conversation. But she certainly couldn't continue as they had been - Oh, Erik, I was just telling your friend here about how good my life is with you and trying convince him that you didn't kidnap me and aren't holding me prisoner at all, because that's what he thought was going on here! - no, that certainly wouldn't do.
Erik uncorked the bottle and poured some into her glass as she smiled appreciatively at him.
"Thank you, love," she told him as he sat down.
His face colored under his mask, although no one could tell. He shot a glance at the Daroga, hoping the man would notice how kind his Christine was, how easily the words of endearment rolled out from her. The Daroga might doubt Erik's own opinion of Christine's love for him, but surely he couldn't hear those words from her lips and doubt them still.
It helped to settle his own mind as well, as he had feared that perhaps in his absence the Daroga would say something terrible about him to his wife - but Christine seemed just as sweet to him as ever. Wouldn't that be just like the Daroga, though? Erik had no idea where his friend got such awful ideas about him, but it would so be like him to tell poor Christine any horrible thing about her husband. The Daroga seemed to think that Erik lacked some sort of moral compass or some other nonsense. The Daroga was a big ninny who hated fun, that's what Erik thought.
But it seemed he had worried for nothing. Christine didn't seem unsettled, and the Daroga didn't seem smug, so surely nothing terrible had been said. He relaxed just slightly.
Nadir held up a spoonful of fish.
"I must say, this is the most delightful meal I've had in ages - my compliments to the chef."
He glanced between the two of them. Christine smiled again - Nadir noticed that she smiled quite a lot, it seemed - far more than he would have expected from anyone who had to live with Erik.
"This meal was entirely Erik's doing - he is so wonderful at cooking, isn't he?"
Erik stared down at his plate, slightly embarrassed but hanging on his wife's every kind word about him.
"You know," she continued sheepishly. "I never used to be very good at cooking, and it used to worry my Mamma Valerius - she'd fret over how I'd ever find a husband with cooking skills like mine!"
She smiled fondly at the memory.
"But Erik didn't care about that at all - some men might insist on their wife doing all the cooking, but Erik never saw a problem with cooking for the both us, and even taking the time to share recipes with me and help me improve my kitchen skills. In fact he's never taken issue with helping me with any of the more domestic arts - and I think I'm quite lucky to have him."
She was positively blushing at that point, but Erik didn't even notice - he had taken to chopping up the fish on his plate into very small pieces with his fork to distract from the tears welling in his eyes. Christine - lucky to have him? He wanted to shout that no - no! - it was the other way around! He was the lucky one to have her by his side, so how could he not do whatever he could to lessen her burdens and make her life easier? He didn't care if wasn't what all the other men did, didn't care even if was the normal thing to do, he saw no reason he should refrain from cooking and cleaning simply because he now had a wife - especially since he had already been doing all of those tasks for himself for nearly his entire life.
He shook his head in protest.
"You are too hard on yourself, my dear - there was never anything wrong with your cooking!"
"I think you are a bit biased, love," she laughed lightly.
"No," he insisted quite seriously. "I am very impartial in all of my opinions, my judgement is very trustworthy, I am certain of it."
Nadir couldn't help but smile at their interactions throughout the night. Christine had been telling the truth, it seemed. She really did seem to love him, the way she'd laugh softly at his little jokes, how she looked at him with such shining eyes as though he were simply a normal man and not wearing a ridiculous mask (placing a hand in front of his mouth to hide any glimpse that could be caught as he took small bites from his fork) that was covering a hideous face. And Erik, in turn, seemed to hold such respect and reverence for her, the way he looked at her as though she were all that was good and pure in the world, how he seemed to anticipate what she would need or want next (whether it was the salt shaker or more wine or even the glass of water he quickly sprang up to get her when she coughed lightly). They were quite a pair, Nadir thought lightheartedly. He never would have guessed that such a charming woman would have fallen in love with Erik, and he had to admit he was also a little surprised that Erik seemed to be able to keep on his best behavior for so long. He realized that perhaps all (or at least some) of Erik's disagreeable behavior that he was so familiar with was not merely an unavoidable part of who he was but rather something that Erik actually had control over if he wished - and his heavenly Christine certainly gave him reason to behave himself. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, Nadir mused. He couldn't imagine her putting up with any of Erik's fits or other nonsense for very long, and he could easily believe that Erik would do nearly anything to please her - even if it meant having to become a better version of himself.
Christine was very curious as she watched Erik and Nadir interact. She had known Erik could be quite mercurial in his tempers and moods, but it was still a bit of a surprise for her to hear Nadir make a joke and just as she'd began to laugh at it Erik would stare at the man and ask "what the devil was that supposed to mean", and the mood at table would become quite somber. Nadir seemed to take his moods in stride, however, and it calmed her nerves to see that. Despite all that, for the most part dinner seemed to go quite well, and Erik eventually became less prickly as the evening went on, listening to stories and replying now and then with comments.
His good humor had its limit, however. He shifted uneasily in his chair. How long was the Daroga going to blather on for? They had finished their food nearly an hour ago! He had eaten, he had seen Erik's wife and Erik's house - what more point was there for him to be here?
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Erik blurted out, interrupting one of Nadir's stories - he certainly wasn't going to interrupt one of Christine's stories, and he had precious few stories of his own to tell.
"Erik!" Christine was scandalized by his bad manners, but Nadir only laughed.
Erik cringed under Christine's reprimand, and shot a pained look at Nadir.
"Why are you laughing at poor Erik?" he asked pitifully. "I was merely asking a question."
Nadir tried his best to hide his continued laughter by pretending to cough into his napkin.
"I mean, I really don't have anywhere else I need to be - honestly, I could spend hours here still."
Erik's eyes widened and he looked to Christine, dismayed. Would this troublesome man never leave?
"What I mean to say is, I could spend hours more here, because this home is just so lovely, but actually I should be on my way soon," Nadir relented, amused at his old friend's reaction.
Christine smiled kindly.
"I do apologize for Erik, I think he's merely tired, you know - he's had quite a long day. He was up so early this morning, I think he was too excited about this dinner to sleep very much at all!"
Erik sunk down a little in his chair.
"Erik doesn't apologize for Erik," he muttered under his breath.
Nadir pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time.
"Yes, it is getting rather late, I do suppose. Time flies when you're having fun, as they say."
Erik straightened up.
"And it's going to be a busy day tomorrow, too," he said suddenly. "I have quite a lot of things planned, Erik barely has a break from it all for the whole day."
The words were out before he could stop them. He dropped his gaze to the table, now unable to even look in Christine's direction. He had promised her so fervently, sworn it with such passion - no more lies - yet here he was, a miserable rat, a disgusting dog, telling horrible lies in her presence once again. His hands trembled and he began to wring his napkin between them with great anxiety. He truly had intended his last lie - "Of course I ate dinner last night, Christine, I simply had it after you had already gone to bed!" - to be, well, his last. But then the Daroga was here, and then the Daroga was still here, and the Daroga wouldn't leave, and well - he had to say something, didn't he? It was the Daroga's fault entirely, he was certain of it. But the fact remained that he lied, and that meant his promise was also a lie, which meant he had lied to her twice and the very thought made him feel lightheaded. But perhaps- perhaps he hadn't truly lied - after all, he had promised Christine that he wouldn't lie, and wasn't it implied that that meant no more lies to Christine? He hadn't lied to her, he had only lied to the Daroga, and surely that didn't count, did it? No, he hadn't broken his promise at all. He smoothed the napkin out across his lap once more and breathed a sigh of relief.
His mind calmed once more, he turned his attention back to what was going on around him - Christine and the Daroga were talking about the garden she and Erik were cultivating. Erik huffed. This day seemed to never end! Why couldn't they just go sleep finally and have it be tomorrow already? Why couldn't it be time for cookies and lemonade with his wife yet? Why was the Daroga still here?
To his relief, however, Nadir stood up and they continued their conversation as they slowly left the dining room and made their way towards the front door.
"Did you see the round yellow flowers over by the edge of the fountain? Erik got them for me as surprise for my birthday - and what a surprise! I hadn't seen those kind of flowers since I was a little girl in Sweden. But he had them ordered and shipped here just for me, it was so sweet of him. They've thrived wonderfully, too - I wouldn't have expected them to, but they really have."
"I shall have to take a closer look at them the next time I come," he paused. "Oh- I do believe I've forgotten my handkerchief at the dinner table - Erik, would you mind terribly...?"
Erik hurried to fetch the handkerchief - anything to get the man on his way as soon as possible.
With Erik out of the way, Nadir turned to Christine once more.
"There's one thing that interests me, if you don't mind my saying so, but - you truly seem to love him, and yet even still you couldn't seem to find it likely that he actually had a friend. Your first thought was that he was paying me to pretend," Nadir mused.
Christine looked off into the distance, staring at nothing for a second.
"I do love him, monsieur, but I am not stupid," she turned a critical eye to him. "Besides, you've know him for far longer than I and you thought he kidnapped me."
Nadir chuckled.
"Perhaps we think these things about him because we know him so well."
A smile quirked at her lips.
"Perhaps," she agreed. "But I am glad that he does have a friend."
"And I am glad that his wife is such a charming and delightful - and strong willed - woman such as yourself."
Erik returned with the handkerchief, which he shoved into Nadir's hand before placing his own hands on the man's shoulders and trying to steer him towards the door.
Once out on the porch, Nadir turned to bid the couple farewell.
"It was a throughly enjoyable evening," he gave a little bow. "My deepest thanks for inviting me. And my belated congratulations on your wedding, as well."
"We simply must have you again sometime, Nadir. It was so lovely to talk with you," Christine smiled.
"Erik would be... not unpleased, if the Daroga wished to come by again," he paused before adding- "As long as he gives plenty of advance warning, that is."
With their goodbyes said and the door closed and locked, Erik stood by the thin window on the side of the door and peered out from behind the little curtain, narrowing his eyes at the receding figure on the walkway, watching to make certain he had actually left and wasn't snooping around the outside of Erik's home.
Satisfied that he had really left, he let the curtain fall back in place with a sigh. He was used to talking with Christine, and he was used to talking with the Daroga, but having both of them in the same room had been a tad bit... overwhelming at times. He wasn't used to such crowds, and was pleased that it was simply him and Christine once more. He had enjoyed the night, however - proving that he had both a friend and a wife had been exhilarating.
He found he was alone in the entryway, and went back to the dining room where he found Christine gathering the plates and silverware to take to the kitchen.
"I can do that for you, Christine," he offered eagerly.
"No, no - I insist. It's my way of saying thank you for such a good dinner," she turned on the tap and filled the sink with water.
He hovered about for a few moments, wondering if perhaps she'd change her mind after all, but she continued to wash each dish before drying it and stacking it. He moved to stand behind her, letting his arms slip around her waist in a hug and resting his head on her shoulder. She made a contented noise as he did so.
"Would you like jam tart cookies tomorrow, Erik? I do know you're quite fond of those."
"I'm quite fond of anything you make, my dear," he told her.
She simply smiled as she kept working on the dishes, making plans for what she would bake in the morning, and leaning back against him just a little. She thought back on Nadir's questions to her, and her own answers, and she felt once again the truth of it all - there really was no other place she'd rather be at that moment - out in the countryside, in the quaint kitchen of her lovely home, and in her husband's tender embrace.