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When I arrive home, I drop my little basket in the chair by the door. My eyes drawn to the little table, I see my note still resting there, folded in the same way I had left it. I let out a little sigh and go to collect it; Erik hasn't even come home yet.

Just in case, I call, "Erik, are you here?" There is no answer except for the trees in back, creating vast and towering shadows behind the windows. They sway slightly in the breeze, and I stop, mesmerized, until I shake myself out of it.

I go through the little cottage, leaning into Erik's music room. I have the strangest sensation that he's here, somewhere… I just have to find him.

Looking quickly in the kitchen—not that he'd ever be in there—I go upstairs to change in my room. It startles me when I open the door, because I wasn't expecting him to be there.

He's lying on the bed, starting at the ceiling, with his mask on. I haven't seen him with it on for such a long time now, and it looks very out of place. The way he's laying… he's very, very still, and has his arms crossed under his head. Even when I approach him, he doesn't stir.

I can see the bit of light under his mask from his eyes, and rather than asking if he's awake, I say clumsily, "Hello?"

"Hello." he answers gravely.

I freeze for a minute, utterly bewildered by this new behavior. My mind instantly tries to remember anything I might have done to upset him in the past hour or so. He couldn't have minded me being out with Marianne, could her? And he should have seen my note…

"Why are you lying here, all by yourself?" I ask curiously, and I sit beside him. He still doesn't remove his gaze from his fixed position in the ceiling above.

"Because." he says.

Not sure whether I should throttle him or hug him, I lean over him and look into his eyes. For a moment, he appears to stare right through me, and then he focuses on my face and smiles.

"Erik, you're frightening me." I whine, touching my hand to the upper side of his mask. "Not in a you are intimidating way, but in a way I'm really worried about you way."

He smiles again, his eyes going out of focus again. Then he looks back up at the ceiling.

Nervous, I pull off his mask and bring up his face so he will look at me. Before I can say anything, he interrupts with, "I have been thinking."

I throw my hands in the air. "Is that all?"

He frowns at me, very seriously, and I grow very still, like him. He waits for a moment and replaces his mask quietly.

"I will meet your little friend before she leaves."

I stare at him, unwilling to believe him completely while he is in such a funny mood. Putting my pointer finger under his lips, I look at him very closely, staring into his dark eyes. I want him to snap at me, or push me away, but he just remains still and obliges with every pressure I apply to him.

"Erik?" I ask worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"You asked me if I would." he says in reply.

"Yes… and you said no already."

His eyes wander over my face for just a moment. "Yes… well, I changed my mind, it appears."

Something very odd is going on, indeed. His vapid manner unnerves me and chills me at the same time. Compassionately, I want to speak gently to him until he tells me what is the matter, but I also feel like I ought to run away from him, and not look back until his mood has passed.

He looks at me, almost impatiently. "Aren't you happy about that?"

I blink, and nod. "Of—of course! You have no idea how much that means to me." I pause. "And thank you. For reconsidering."

But I do not drop my guard. Any second, I expect him to start laughing and tell me he's only joking. But he doesn't even crack a smile as his eyes turn back to the ceiling. They flutter closed.

"Erik?" I say, trying to play down the hysterical edge to my voice. His eyes fly open, and when they meet mine, they are not kind.

"Yes?"

"You're acting strangely…" I murmur, and my hand goes automatically to remove his mask. His cold hand suddenly flies up and seizes my wrist with a firm grip. I stop, shocked, and his eyes burn into mine.

"Leave it." he hisses.

I instantly drop my hand, but it remains in the air, suspended by Erik's cold fingers. I watch fearfully, until he carefully releases me and looks back up at the ceiling. Shocked, I pull both my hands back quickly and go to my closet. He doesn't look at me.

My eyes still on him, I undress into my nightgown and take the pins out of my hair. I lie down slowly beside him, struggling with the covers that are tucked under him. When he appears as if he's never going to move again, I flop down with a sigh and loosely touch his hand.

He jerks away. "Do not touch me."

I pretend that his words do not sting. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

He slides over and is up, towards the door, in a flash. I am usually very fond of the way my husband move; he walks in a style all his own, and I have never seen a human being move faster. But tonight, I wish he didn't walk so… quickly.

I stare at the empty room, and it stares back at me.

You've made him angry…

I don't understand. What did I do? Why is he upset?

Come find me, seems to call to me from the outer area beyond my room. Leaving Erik alone in this state isn't a good idea, not matter how peculiar we are. Sometimes, when Erik is quiet, he just wants to be heard.

I pad lightly into the hallway, listening for the direction he might have gone in. I stand outside the main room, where he is just sitting in his chair. Just sitting, rigidly still, all by himself.

I go and sit next to him. Without saying anything, I lay a timid hand on top of his, and wait. Patience… that's all I need.

He sighs. I can tell he thinks I am annoying, coming to pester him again when he so clearly wants to be alone. "You should be in bed…" he murmurs.

"So should you."

He pauses, and shakes his head a fraction of an inch. "I'm just thinking." he tells me, and he sounds almost normal again. I breathe a half-hearted sigh of relief.

"What at you thinking about?" I ask, and he gives me a quick glance. In that moment, he seems very old to me—as if he's had a lifetime of suffering and sorrows that he could never express to me, and they've all seemed to come upon him now.

"Nothing you would understand." he replies curtly. "Please go back to bed, my sweet. Erik will handle everything in the morning."

"Handle what?" I ask, but his hands are already pushing me back upstairs. I so hate it when he pushes me away like that…"You're really frightening me now. Has something happened?"

"Of course not! Can I not stop and think without my wife hassling me, like any other man?" His clicks his tongue. "You are the one acting strangely. I am really quite normal, you know. I have never been better. Just like everyone else."

I become aware that my mouth is hanging open, just a bit, and I close it silently as he looks down at his hands, which are turning in his lap.

"I think…" he muses. "It's because of you, of course… only because of you. Would I ever have dared before? I do not think so. No, it's just you… and it's just me turning it into such an event…"

"Erik!" I say exasperatedly, and he looks surprised, as if he didn't know I was there.

"Did I not tell you to go to bed?" he says crossly. "I'll speak with you in the morning!"

I whisk out, brimming with annoyance and fear. Oh, he is so impossible! What is he talking about? Surely nothing too serious, or her would have been grateful for my presence. I didn't seem as though he were mad at me, although I would rather him be angry at me than himself.

I creep back to my room, listening for any sounds back in the main room, any evidence that he is following me. It's still eerily quiet.

"He said nothing was wrong." I remind myself very softly under my breath. "Don't overreact, Christine, you know how he hates that…"

Did he see something today? Did I do something unknowingly that created these strange emotions in him. I struggle, desperately wanting to go back down to say something…anything…but I feel that Erik's word was final; he wants me in bed.

When I fall asleep, I try to think about what he may be thinking of, but my mind is blank. I cannot think of a single thing that would put him in such a black mood right now.

I do not sleep well that night. Or the night after that. Or after that.

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