The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DEDICATION: This chapter is for my beloved daughter, Adrianna Anastasia on the 23rd anniversary of her death at the hands of a drunk driver. No six year old child should die as she did … no one of any age should. To honor the memory of my beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed, angel of a daughter and the countless others that have died, please do not ever consume alcoholic beverages and then drive a vehicle. I died on June 8, 1984 with my daughter and a woman forever broken took my place in the world. Even after all these years, it never becomes any easier … it just becomes easier to hide from the rest of the world.
Adrianna, I miss you each and every day. I have kept the six year old alive within me just as I promised you I would on that awful morning when I held you in my arms and sent you to find my mother, your grandma, in the light at the end of the path. My mother, Jo Ann Mary and my grandfather, Cal Nicolas also died, but they succumbed to their injuries before the paramedics arrived. My valiant child fought for her life for one week before jealous death stole her from me.
Nana, you were all that was light, innocence, laughter, goodness and beauty in my life. I miss you. I love you ….
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantoms, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
Ride a Cock-Horse to Banbury-Cross
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury-Cross
to see an old woman get up on her hoss.
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
she shall have music wherever she goes.
Mother Goose (Circa 17th – 18th Centuries)
Chapter Twenty-Eight – She Shall Have Music
"Erik! I love you!"
"Oh, Christine! I love you …."
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
Erik awoke and stretched. He felt relaxed and rested. The nightmare had not plagued his sleep and he had slept through the entire night undisturbed.
"Oh! What a relief. It is still dark …."
He rolled over and began to close his eyes to go back to sleep, when he inadvertently noticed the time. The grandfather clock in the corner read eleven o'clock.
"Merde! I am late!"
He swore and sprang to a sitting position. Leaning forward, he placed his face in his cupped hands.
"What a wonderfully amazing dream. It seemed so real! I have taken leave of my senses. How could I ever imagine that a woman as beautiful as Christine would ever consent to marriage with a …."
His jumbled thoughts suddenly halted as he took note of his current state of undress.
"What the hell?"
"Erik? Mon amour? Whatever are you doing? Come back in bed with me."
The husky voice purred from behind him.
"Christine?"
"Erik? You shall catch your death sitting there like that … not that I do not appreciate the view, but truly, the air is chilled and my arms await you, mon ange chéri de mon coeur secret."
It was at that moment that he saw the golden glint on his left hand and realized the truth of the previous night.
"Oh my God! I am a husband! Christine is my wife! Last night was no dream, it happened! I made love to my wife. And, I am loved."
"Erik?"
Her voice wavered as it began to hold a note of uncertainty and he knew that he had to acknowledge her immediately or run the risk of ruining their thus far blissful union. He turned back to her with a gentle smile on his face and crept back beneath the blankets. Taking her into his arms, he stroked her hair and murmured.
"Good morning, ma chèri. I apologize, but I awoke suddenly and thought that last night was a wonderful dream. Now, I discover that it was wonderfully real."
She giggled as he nuzzled at her neck.
"Erik!"
She squirmed against him, which caused him to become aroused. He felt his need for her rise once more and he ground himself against her.
"Oh, Erik!" She purred.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
The happy newlyweds spent the entire day abed talking quietly and making love. Their only interruption being Elaine quietly knocking on their door to inform them that the appropriate meal lay on a tray on the floor just outside their bedroom door. As the clock struck five, Erik found himself in the grip of an inspiration, which he had not felt in many years. He rolled over onto his side and leaning his head on his hand, he studied his bride's face. His hand moved to her throat and slowly moved up and down its velvet length.
"Ma chèri, I have been thinking about the other night and what you said about your father."
Her languid eyes met his and sparkled in the candlelight.
"I said much regarding my Papa, Erik. What precisely is it of which you speak?"
"Well, you said he asked you to promise him two things that night. What were they? You never told me."
She closed her eyes, but not before Erik saw her pained expression. He leaned into her, pressed his forehead against hers and whispered.
"He would not wish for you to feel so much anguish, ma petite. I am here now. Allow me to lend you my strength. You are no longer alone, ma amour précieux."
Erik heard the intake of her breath in a quiet hiss and then a silence, broken only by the steady ticking of the grandfather clock and the pounding of both their hearts. The moment seemed to stretch on into eternity, but in reality lasted but a few seconds. Just as he thought she would not answer him, she spoke.
"Yes, mon amour. He made me promise him two things. One was that I care for you and allow you to care for me in return, which I promised without hesitation. The other was that I sing again. Well, in truth I must admit that his request went further than simply singing again. He was quite insistent on obtaining my promise that I return to the stage again and share my voice with the world."
She dropped her eyes from his as her cheeks burned bright red with embarrassment. He, however, was not going to allow her to deny her promises.
"Christine."
The man received no response from the woman he loved beyond words.
"Christine?"
His agonized whisper penetrated her tortured soul and strengthened her resolve to speak nothing but the truth to her husband. She opened her eyes, gazed deep into his soul and gasped to find all of her own insecurities mirrored in his burning orbs. She swallowed hard and brokenly replied.
"Yes, Erik?"
"What answer did you give to your Papa?"
"I promised I would do both of the things he asked of me."
"Really?"
"Of course, mon amour. How could I ever deny my Papa anything? How could I deny the Angel of Music? And, the fact that my Papa is the Angel of Music only made me doubly bound to acquiesce to his requests. I could do nothing other. I gave him my word on both accounts."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Christine."
He nuzzled her furiously, his mouth devouring hers before slipping away again.
"So, you give yourself to the Angel of Music's chosen guide?"
He smirked.
"Yes, my husband."
His smirk deepened then froze.
"Wait! What do you mean that you will return to the stage again?"
Author's Note: Sorry for the brevity of this chapter, but due to the action about to take place in the next chapter it is necessary. I would like to extend my humblest of thanks to all of my reviewers. I believe I have responded to each of you individually, but if I have overlooked anyone, please accept both my apology and my thanks! Fondest Regards, ny