Disclaimer: I don't have rights to Phantom or to any lyrics, etc. contained within. I also don't have rights to any other movie or book, but that's beside the point. -chuckles-

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Father Michel slowly and stealthily backed away from the study door, returning to the kitchen alcove, smiling. Of all the people I have ever known, Erik needs to experience real and lasting love in his life. Lord, please grant it to him.

Erik and Christine were lost in each other's eyes for several moments, both of them realizing at last the feelings that were mutually shared. Christine did not shrink back in fear, and Erik did not withdraw from her gaze. Something had definitely changed, and the air was almost charged with electricity. Finally, Christine broke the long and palpable silence. "Erik," she whispered, "I need to tell you what is in my heart." Tears sprang to her eyes as she began to recount the events of the past two days.

"When Raoul came to take me back to his estate, I-I knew as soon as I saw him that something was wrong. I wasn't pleased to see him like I should have been, and when he touched me, I--" she paused, seeing Erik flinch slightly. "I felt very uncomfortable." He relaxed. "It was as if...I didn't want him to touch me. On the ride home, I suddenly realized that what I felt for him wasn't the kind of love that I was supposed to feel if I was going to marry him. I thought that it would take more time for me to discover what my true feelings were…but I was wrong, Erik. I don't know why I didn't see it before. I will always love Raoul, as my close childhood friend, my protector of sorts, and perhaps even my "first love." But it is nothing beyond that."

Erik listened intently, scarcely believing his ears. At first, he cringed when he heard her say "protector." I was supposed to be her protector, her Angel of Music…but he was forced to protect her from me. Then how is this now possible? Could I have truly won her heart? This loathsome gargoyle with the hideous face…with all the wrong that I have done? He tried to prepare himself mentally, should she suddenly shatter his fantasy into pieces once more. But she continued on, and as she spoke, he began to feel an incredible swell of joy within his heart.

She unexpectedly averted her eyes from his. "I…I realized that I do not want to be the wife of someone who simply sees me as a naïve young girl who should not pursue her own dreams. I know that until now I have been very foolish and naïve, but…I want someone who sees me and loves me, even with my imperfections, and who believes that I could be more than I ever dreamed possible." She swallowed and met his gaze. "It was you, Erik. It has always been you that I have needed…and wanted. But I was too frightened to admit it to myself until now. I…I believe that I am in love with you." She paused to take a breath, feeling as though the wind had suddenly rushed from her lungs. Shaking her head, she continued. "Raoul…he was very upset when I broke our engagement. And he suspects that it is because of you that I did so. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was completely true." She paused, studying his face. "But it is."

Erik reached for her and caressed the porcelain skin of her cheek. "Christine," he breathed, "are you certain of what you feel?" His eyes were practically pleading with her to erase any doubts that he might have.

"I am, Erik. I…I love you," she whispered as she closed her eyes, allowing a tear to trail down her cheek.

He sighed. "Christine, look at me."

She shook her head. "I don't think I can any longer…I--"

"Mon amour," he spoke in a musical, alluring tone, "look at me, please."

She slowly gathered enough courage to open her eyes and meet his gaze. Her stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as his eyes burned into her. "I have loved you for ten years, Christine. There will never be anyone else for me but you. I love you, with all of my heart." He raised her slightly on her knees and leaned in to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She exhaled, at last releasing the tension of the moment. His lips traveled down to her temple, then to her cheek, as she lost herself in his embrace. He reached a hand to her auburn curls and caressed them lovingly. Suddenly, his rich and vibrant tenor filled her ears. "Slowly, gently, love unfurls its splendor; grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender…" He stopped and pressed his lips to her jaw, slowly, almost worshipfully, working his way down to her chin.

Christine was trembling. She was losing herself willingly and completely, for the first time, in his voice, his scent, his touch…and she felt utterly helpless in his embrace. She was frightened and excited at the same time, and she had not felt this way since…since the night of Don Juan…when we were last together beneath the Opera…our only kiss. Will he kiss me now? Am I truly ready for this? Her pulse and breathing both accelerated slightly.

As if he had read her mind, Erik stopped and pulled away, gazing intently into her deep brown eyes. "Why, Christine? Why didn't you come to me when the boy sent you away?" he spoke softly, trying to keep all bitterness from his voice.

She sighed and relaxed a little. "I thought that you would doubt my feelings…that you would believe I had come to you only because I had nowhere else to go."

He smiled slightly, his lips curving at the corners. She knows me better than I thought. "So instead, you made a very mature decision and secured employment for yourself," he spoke matter-of-factly.

Christine was surprised. "You—you really think that it was a mature decision?" she asked him, sounding much like a little girl again.

Erik laughed. "Yes, mon amour. Very mature. Though you have far too much talent to be wasting it in a seamstress shop…" he paused, noticing the look of disdain on her face. "However, I am aware that I have quite ruined your chances of ever earning a living as a singer in this unforgiving city again." He grinned, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "And I knew that the costume seamstress had been giving you lessons."

Her jaw dropped at first, and then she laughed. "I don't know why I am surprised. After all, you likely knew everything that happened at the Populaire."

"They didn't call me the Opera Ghost without cause, ma cherie." He smiled a cocky smile.

After Erik and Christine had spoken for a few more moments, they noticed the mess of food on the rug. "I suppose I had better clean this up before Father Michel sees it," Christine smiled sheepishly.

"Let me help you," Erik replied, moving from his chair to assist in the process.

Christine was trying to find every last crumb when a thought dawned on her. "Erik…you are so very different now than you were at the Opera. You seem so much more…peaceful to me somehow."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid that I can't take any of the credit for the changes you see in me, Christine." His expression turned serious. "The credit belongs to the Lord. I…I had an encounter with Him, an experience like none I have ever had before. And He has forgiven me for all of my past sins. It is because of Him that my heart has changed. He showed me that He loves me, despite my past. And He has a plan for my life…so I refuse to spend another day wallowing in those wasted years. I want to move forward and become the man that He has always meant for me to be…to do whatever He would have me to do. After all, He was the One who preserved my life from the very beginning." He blinked back tears.

Christine's eyes grew watery again, as she lightly brushed his cheek with her fingers. "You are beautiful, Erik, mon amour."

Erik's voice broke slightly. "Thank you, Christine. I don't know how you can see me that way, but I…I am humbled. And you have always been beautiful to me, mon ange."

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What have I done? he questioned himself, in utter anguish. I let her go without a word of protest! Raoul had eaten his supper in silence, picking at his food, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life. All I did was love her. I saved her from that monster! How could she just leave me like this, after all I did for her? After all that I had promised her? He held his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

The butler entered the dining room unexpectedly. "Monsieur le Viscomte?"

Raoul jerked. "Uh…yes, Francois?"

"One of the maids found this in a bedroom upstairs. It is addressed to you."

"Oh," Raoul replied, surprised. He took the envelope from the butler. "Thank you," he nodded. He tore open the envelope and recognized Christine's handwriting.

"Dearest Raoul… I need to find out who I really am…you have always been a good friend to me…." He sighed and tossed the letter on the table before him. How could I have been blind to this? Did she purposely deceive me? No…no, she simply wouldn't. She couldn't. Not Christine…she is too innocent, too pure to do such a thing. Perhaps she truly meant what she said…that she came to me out of fear. A good friend, she calls me…but I know that there must have been more to it than that! It is possible that she is simply…confused. Surely I spoke of marriage too soon after her ordeal, and I brought this upon myself. He passed a hand through his hair and tried to formulate some sort of plan in his mind. After some time, he summoned Francois again.

"Please speak to my carriage driver, Francois. I would like to know where he took Mademoiselle Daae this morning."

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Christine glanced suddenly at the clock on the mantle. "Oh my goodness! It's later than I thought! I must be getting back to the shop…I am expected for work in the morning."

Erik threw caution to the wind. He grabbed her hand impulsively, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Stay with me, Christine. I…I can sleep on the settee, really, I don't mind."

Christine blushed. "Erik, that simply wouldn't be…proper!" She giggled and felt very much like a child at that moment. She tried to regain her womanly composure. "I…I mean, what would people say?" She looked at him, her eyes widened into a horrified expression.

"Ah, mon ange, you forget that I have never cared for the opinions of society." He laughed darkly. "After all, it was society that shunned me because of my appearance."

"I know," she replied softly, almost embarrassed. "I just…I don't know if I could--"

Erik sighed heavily. "You would rather not have your reputation ruined further…I understand." Though in his mind, he was cursing society and all of its rules and views of propriety.

Christine laughed softly. "No, Erik…that isn't the problem." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I cannot…trust myself when I am with you." Her face flushed, and she bowed her head.

Erik was stunned. "You-you mean that you…that I…" He gulped. "Christine…" he breathed, feeling astonished and aroused at the same time. "I…I had no idea that you…felt that way." He turned her chin up to face him.

She opened her eyes and gazed into his. "How could you not know…the night of Don Juan Triumphant, when we…when we sang together on the stage?"

His eyes widened in shock. "After I threatened the boy, you said that you hated me, Christine. I thought then that your emotions on the stage had been an act, albeit a very good one."

"Oh, Erik, no! I…you…you touched me on the stage that night, and I--" her voice lowered to a whisper. "I felt like I was on fire. It frightened me, because I didn't know what I was feeling inside. You did something to me that…no man has ever done." She placed her hand on her forehead, covering her eyes, embarrassed. "I can't believe that I just told you that."

He removed her hand from her forehead. "Oh, Christine. You do not ever have to feel ashamed to be honest with me." He smiled, his lips curving upward in a rather seductive fashion. "Would it surprise you to know that I cannot trust myself to remain a gentleman when I am in your presence?"

Christine felt heat growing in her belly, and it startled her. "I—no, I…don't even know what to say to that, Erik!" She laughed nervously and pulled away from him. "I think that perhaps we should not discuss this any further."

Erik could see that her longing for him was growing, and it felt empowering. Her face was reddening in the light of the fire, and her eyes were glazed with desire. He prayed for the strength to stop immediately, and he was relieved when that strength seemed to materialize from thin air. "Well," he said, straightening, "I suppose that I should take you back to the shop, then. Unless you would prefer to walk the distance, alone, in the dark?" he smiled at her teasingly, and she playfully slapped his arm. "Don't you think I know that my Angel would never allow me to walk that distance alone late at night?" She stood to her feet and smoothed out her dress as Erik stood, his imposing form towering over her petite frame.

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "You are correct, mon ange. I will never let you out of my sight again." He placed a lingering kiss to her forehead, sending fire through her blood. "Now, we should allow Father Michel to have access to his study again, shouldn't we?" he chuckled. "One can only spend so much time in that tiny kitchen."

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A/N: Thanks to my reviewers! Drop me short note if you can! My stats have come back up, but they're all out of whack. -sigh- Oh, well. That's life, I suppose! Thanks also to ALL of you who are "lurking" but not reviewing. I appreciate you, too…and I hope that this story is an enjoyable one for you! –hugs-