A/N: Well, I apologize that I forgot to properly punctuate The Marriage of Figaro in the last chapter. Oh, and I already said before that I don't own any rights to POTO or the characters, or to any of the music here. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Twenty-Three

Erik rang the bell and anxiously waited for Guillaume to answer the door. As soon as he did, Erik nearly pounced upon him. "Is the family at home this morning? I have something I wish to discuss with them all."

Guillaume looked slightly shocked, but then he nodded, allowing Erik to step inside. "One moment, Monsieur."

Monsieur Laurent came down the stairs a bit flustered. "Monsieur Erik, it is not yet breakfast time. Can this not wait until then?"

"I'm…I'm afraid not, Monsieur," Erik replied, a bit embarrassed. "Are your wife and daughter up at this hour as well?"

"They are, but they have not yet dressed for the day. How can I help you?" He eyed Erik suspiciously.

Erik sighed. "I have made something…for your daughter. I hope that you will take no offense, for I mean it as a gift. However, if you refuse it, then I shall understand." He stepped to the front door and opened it, wheeling in the chair he had made. It had large bicycle wheels attached to the sides, and the chair itself was solid wood, sanded beautifully. "I…I haven't painted it yet…I thought perhaps I would let Amêlie choose the color," he smiled sheepishly, awaiting a reaction from Monsieur Laurent.

"Why..Erik!" Monsieur Laurent was dumbfounded. "I…I don't know what to say! It's beautiful…but…why did you do this?"

"I wanted to do it because you have all welcomed me so warmly and have made me feel as though I were part of your family. I realize that you could easily afford to purchase such a chair, but I wanted to make it for her myself. Your daughter is very precious and I thought that perhaps a wheelchair might make her feel…" he paused, searching for the right words, and chuckled. "I thought it might make her as independent in body as she is in spirit."

Monsieur Laurent was visibly moved. His voice was gentle when he responded. "Erik, you are a very surprising man, I must say. Thank you…you must have worked very hard on this. Amêlie will love it simply because you made it for her." He extended his hand and Erik grasped it. "Perhaps I shall tell the ladies to dress right away and come down."

Erik waited at the bottom of the stairs for several minutes. At last, he heard female voices drawing nearer. He looked up and saw Madame Suzette rounding the corner toward the stairs, followed by Monsieur Laurent, who was carrying Amêlie.

"Monsieur Erik…what—what are you doing here at this hour?" Suzette asked, surprised.

"I apologize for coming so early, Madame…but I have something…for Mademoiselle Amêlie." He looked up at the young girl and smiled warmly. She returned the gesture, brushing her hair back from her face. She had not yet braided it, and several of the straight, dark strands were standing on end from leaning on her father's shoulder.

"Monsieur Erik, you have something for me?" she asked him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yes." He stepped to the side, revealing the chair, which he had concealed behind him. Amêlie gasped. "Oh, Monsieur! It is so beautiful!" Her eyes became watery and she reached her arms out toward Erik.

Slightly stunned, he glanced at Monsieur Laurent as if asking his permission, and the man nodded at him, taking a step closer to Erik. Erik reached out his arms and lifted Amêlie into them. He held her against his chest and stepped toward the chair. Before he could set her down in it, she hugged his neck so tightly that he struggled to breathe. "Oh, Monsieur! Thank you…thank you so much! You are so wonderful!" She beamed at him as he placed her gently in the seat of the chair and lowered the footrests for her.

Amêlie grasped the bicycle wheels and pushed lightly. The chair moved forward, and she laughed. She rolled the wheels forward again, trying to maneuver the chair toward the hallway. She fumbled a bit before the chair turned slightly, and she grinned at Erik. Suddenly, she got a mischievous look on her face and pushed hard on the wheels, sending the chair speeding down the hallway. Madame Suzette gasped in surprise, and then began to laugh as she saw her daughter's absolute joy and freedom of movement. She stepped toward Erik and laid a hand on his arm. He didn't flinch. "Monsieur Erik, how can we ever thank you for such a kind gift?" she smiled.

"This gift is my thanks to you all, Madame. You have given me more than I had ever thought possible." He smiled at her and turned again to watch Amêlie, feeling more than a bit of pride at the joy he had brought to another person's life.

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Christine was awakened by the doorbell but had lain in her bed for several more minutes, thinking perhaps that it could be Raoul. Is he early? Surely he wouldn't show up unannounced like this! She silently prayed that it was a messenger or someone else…she was not yet mentally prepared to face her fiancé. Finally, she summoned Helene, who assisted her in dressing. Piling her hair neatly on top of her head, she stepped out into the upstairs hallway, listening. She could hear several voices downstairs, and her heart leapt. One of them is Erik's.

"Mademoiselle, I shall gladly paint it for you if you will tell me the color that you prefer," Christine heard Erik say.

"Oh, no, I want it just the way it is! It doesn't need any paint. Besides, I'm sure I would just bump into things and scratch the paint off anyhow," Amêlie laughed.

And then Erik laughed. Oh, dear God, Christine breathed. I could listen to his voice forever. Her eyes widened in shock. What am I thinking? But she knew in her heart that it was true. Do I feel that way about Raoul? she asked herself. She tried to recall how she felt whenever she heard Raoul's voice. She couldn't remember if it evoked a feeling in her at all…other than…familiarity? Fond memories? Friendship? I do love him deeply, she thought. But...I am so confused!

She tried to clear her mind of the offending thoughts and turned to descend the stairs. Erik immediately sensed her presence and looked up, his smile fading. Christine's heart sank. I make him unhappy just by being here. What was I thinking, asking him to give me another chance? I must be the most selfish person alive.

Madame Suzette smiled at her as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Christine, I'm sorry, did we wake you?"

"No…it…it was the doorbell, Madame. But it's alright. What's all this?" she smiled curiously, noticing Amêlie in the wheelchair.

"Monsieur Erik has made a wheelchair for Amêlie," Suzette replied, smiling. "Isn't he the most thoughtful man?"

Christine met Erik's gaze. His expression was unreadable to her. "Yes," she replied. "He is incredibly thoughtful…and it is beautiful work." She smiled at Erik, her heart nearly bursting. Who is this man that stands before me now? she wondered in amazement. He has always been my Angel…but I have never seen the beauty and selflessness in his heart, until now. I love him. Oh, God! I love him so much at this moment! She felt breathless just looking at him.

A strange expression appeared in Erik's eyes and he cleared his throat. "Thank you, Mademoiselle. It is kind of you to say." When he looked into Christine's eyes, what he saw nearly made him tremble. She has never looked at me that way before. He quickly averted his eyes and spoke to Monsieur Laurent. "I suppose I should be going now. I am sorry for disturbing you all so early…"

"Stay, Erik. I will ask the cook to put breakfast on early today. Perhaps we could all adjourn to the parlor until everything is ready," Monsieur Laurent replied.

Erik nodded in reply. Christine felt a bit disappointed. What she truly wanted made her feel guilty and giddy at the same time. I want to be alone with him, she thought, thrilled at the realization that at last, she knew what was in her own heart. I want to tell him that I love him. I want to tell him that I…choose him. But it was not to be. They would have no time alone together that day…and before supper, Raoul would arrive to take her away…away from the man she truly wanted.

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The dark carriage with the gold de Chagny crest on the door pulled up to the front of the Laurent house. Guillaume had seen it approaching and he stepped out to greet it, opening the door for the young nobleman. "Monsieur le Viscomte, welcome. It is good to see you again," he smiled.

"Thank you, and you as well," Raoul smiled. "Is my fiancée ready to leave?"

"Yes, Viscomte. The family is expecting you."

Raoul entered the foyer and smiled as Monsieur Laurent approached him. "Ah, the dashing young Viscomte! How was your trip?" he smiled at Raoul.

"Oh, it was rather boring. Business usually is," Raoul replied, frowning slightly. "Is Christine here?"

"Of course. She is upstairs collecting her things. Shall I get her for you?"

"Yes. I am anxious to see her," he spoke breathlessly.

"I am sure that you are," Monsieur Laurent winked.

Raoul had seated himself on the settee in the parlor when Christine walked in wearing her traveling clothes. He beamed at her and stood, stepping forward to take her in his arms. "Christine, my darling…I have missed you," he kissed her on the cheek.

She returned his embrace. "Raoul…it is…good to see you again. How was your trip?"

Raoul rolled his eyes. "It was somewhat dull and I would rather not discuss it right now. I want to talk about you." He rubbed her arms affectionately. "So…what have you been up to this week without me? Have you been getting to know Monsieur Gregoire and Madame Suzette?"

Christine smiled sheepishly. "Yes, Raoul. They are lovely people. And they have been very kind to me."

"I knew that you would enjoy your visit here," he chuckled. "And you were worried! You always worry for no reason at all, Little Lotte."

"That just isn't true," she replied, a bit offended by his remark. "It is difficult to come to a place where everyone is a stranger to you." All except for one, she thought, smiling to herself.

"Well, I suppose that you are right," he said softly, gathering her into his arms again. He kissed her forehead. "Are you ready to go home now?"

She could sense that he wanted to be even more affectionate with her, and it made her feel very uneasy. Here I am, and I have been such a weak-willed girl, torn between two men for so long. But I must face this. I have no one to blame but myself, she realized. "Yes, Raoul. I believe that I am ready to go."

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As the de Chagny carriage pulled away from the main house, Erik watched it. He wondered if he would ever see Christine again. His heart threatened to break within him, but he steadied himself and turned back to his sketches. Monsieur Giroux had received the first of his sketches earlier in the day and had immediately sent word back to Erik, saying how impressed he was. Erik forced himself to think that everything was going well…even though he did not have Christine at that moment. I may never have her with me again, he thought. But did I ever truly have her heart in the first place? he wondered. He prayed for strength to move on, if need be…though he secretly hoped that there would not be a need.

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Christine was noticeably quiet on the way back to the de Chagny estate. She and Raoul sat alone in the carriage, with Helene insisting instead to ride in front with the driver. Raoul told her bits and pieces about his business trip, and she nodded politely, responding appropriately in the correct places, and he did not seem to notice that anything was amiss. She was relieved, for once, that his self-absorption had temporarily blinded him to her inner struggle.

She believed that she had received an answer to prayer when she stumbled upon an idea earlier in the day. She recalled that Madame Giry had an acquaintance, a seamstress, who had a small business in downtown Paris. Christine hoped that she was in need of an assistant at this time. There was really only one other thing that she knew how to do other than singing and dancing, and that was sewing. She had become rather good at it, watching the costume designer make adjustments and asking a myriad of questions over the years. The designer had finally taken Christine under her wing (without Madame Giry's apparent knowledge) and had shown her how to make several pieces. No one else was aware of it, but several of the costumes for one of the operas were made with Christine's assistance. She would make sure to seek employment as soon as this…this whole mess...was resolved.

Christine listened to Raoul prattle on and on, telling what he considered to be funny stories about the Laurents that he remembered from his younger years. She marveled at how she had not realized her true feelings until now. She loved Raoul as a friend…but she wanted to be the wife of someone who truly treasured her and valued her opinions, talents and thoughts--not one who merely treated her as if she were an expensive, highly breakable bauble to be kept safely on a display shelf. Christine Daae was beginning to become her own woman.

A/N: To Haley Macrae: Thanks for the review! I'm glad that you feel I'm keeping them in character. It's been a little tough, since I am trying to show some dynamic change in them both, yet keep them somewhat the same. Whew!