Raoul stepped from the carriage, glancing at his pocket watch. Ten minutes until eight. I wonder if she is here right now. He clutched a large bouquet of flowers in his left hand, an array of white and yellow roses intertwined with baby's breath. He sharply exhaled and marched steadily toward the small shop.
Madame Dubois was a bit startled when there was a loud rapping at the storefront door, and she turned to Christine, smirking. "Too high and mighty to wait until the start of the business day, I suppose." She strode toward the door, fully intending to cast an evil eye upon whomever would dare to be so inconsiderate. She flung the door open, the wind from the motion causing several tendrils of her hair to fly into her face. She was stunned to find a well-dressed gentleman standing there, holding flowers in his hand. What the devil? She tried to erase the shock from her face and instead chose to glare at him. "Monsieur, I'm afraid that we do not open for another ten minutes. Can your business not wait until then?"
Raoul's eyes grew wide as he took in the older woman's petite and slightly haggard form. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Madame…I was hoping that I might find a particular young lady here…a Mademoiselle Daae." He bowed slightly, a polite gesture that had been drilled into him from the time he had first learned to walk.
Madame Dubois narrowed her eyes. "And who might yoube, Monsieur? What business would someone like you have with Mademoiselle Daae?"
Raoul cleared his throat and tried to keep a civil tone. "Madame, my name is Raoul de Chagny, and I am a longtime friend of Mademoiselle Daae. Now, please, if she is here, would you see if I might have a word with her?"
"D-de Chagny, you say?" She muttered to herself, as if processing the information. "You're…you're not the Viscomte de Chagny, are you?"
Raoul stifled a grin. "Yes, Madame."
"Oh. Oh, my! Forgive me, Viscomte. I-I had no idea. Uh…won't you please come inside?" She stepped to the side and gestured with her arm for him to enter. He smiled and stepped around her, a look of slight amusement on his face. His smile faded quickly when he caught sight of a young woman sitting in the kitchen, her face just slightly out of view. I would know those auburn curls anywhere. "Madame," he spoke softly and gestured with his arm toward the kitchen, "may I?"
Madame Dubois attempted to act the part of the lady that she clearly was not. "Oh, yes, of course, Monsieur Viscomte." She curtsied and smiled at Raoul. He nearly chuckled, but retained his composure skillfully. "Thank you, Madame." He stepped around her and made his way to the kitchen entrance. Christine had just taken another sip of milk when she caught sight of him in the doorway and nearly choked.
"R-Raoul," she coughed. "What-what on earth are you doing here?"
"My driver was kind enough to let me know where he had taken you. I wanted to come by and speak with you." His formal tone suddenly became desperate. "Christine, I have missed you every moment since you left. I--"
"Pardon me for saying so, Viscomte," she interrupted, setting her milk on the table abruptly, "but I believe that you sent me away. It was not my choice to leave in such a manner." She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him coldly. In her heart, she held some resentment toward her childhood friend for the way he had so coldly dismissed her. However, she knew that he was likely acting out of extreme pain.
"Christine," Raoul replied, bending before her on one knee, "I beg of you, please forgive me for my actions. I was not myself. I was very angry…and hurt."
Christine reached forward and tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Raoul, and I hated to be the one to hurt you. You have been a good friend to me, and I pray that you will find happiness in your life."
Raoul gently handed her the flowers that he had brought. She smiled and placed them on the table beside her. "Thank you…they are lovely," she smiled. "But I cannot--"
"No, darling, please just listen." Christine felt a bit uncomfortable with his use of such an intimate term with her again, though she didn't understand why…they had only been parted for a day. Still, it sounded so dreadfully out of place. Raoul continued, gazing pleadingly into her eyes. "I have been a fool, Christine. I was a fool to send you away, and I was a fool to give you up without a fight," he said firmly. "I have come to ask you to take me back, ma cherie. I know that I can make you happy if you will allow it. I wish for nothing more than the chance to be a loving husband to you and give you all the things that you could ever desire." He smiled and reached out to caress her cheek. She drew back from his touch and tears began to fill her eyes.
"Oh, my sweet Raoul, please do not put me through this again. I cannot bear it!" She began to cry quietly, and he reached forward to grasp both of her hands.
"Christine, I know that you love me! Somewhere in your heart, I know that you do! I could feel it in your embrace…in your sweet, warm kisses…" Christine looked at him and blushed. "And you told me of your love that night…that awful night when that monster almost stole everything from us!" His face turned red at this last thought, and a few veins began to bulge in his neck. Christine had never seen him quite so angry before.
She sniffled. "I do love you, Raoul, and I always will. It's…it's just that there was something…missing between us. I can't even explain it. I have loved you for many years, as a friend and as the brother that I never had. When you came back into my life, I was overjoyed! But I was foolish, and I did not know the truth that was in my own heart. I fought it, and tried to convince myself that what I really wanted was the life that you had to offer…that what I wanted was to share each day with you, in your embrace."
"You cannot tell me that you did not love me as you would love a husband. Christine, there were those few times when we--" He dropped his voice to a whisper, then, so that the prying ears in the next room would not overhear. "--when we shared some fairly intimate moments."
Christine blushed furiously, and she shook her head, averting her eyes from his. "Raoul, could you not see it, even then? Could you not see my guilt from allowing you to touch me…in such a manner?"
"Yes, darling, I saw your hesitation, but I assumed that it was a natural thing that all young women experience when placed in…that sort of position." He smiled. "I loved your modesty, Christine. Truthfully, I…I wanted more from you, even then, but I was willing to wait, to keep your purity intact, until our wedding night. And I am still willing to wait, my love."
"Raoul, please…I am not at all comfortable speaking about this! My guilt was not only because of my modesty or purity. It…it was also because…" she paused, searching for the right words to say, and closed her eyes. "It was also because of the truth I did not want to face--that my heart had belonged to another for many years, Raoul. While you were living the life of an aristocrat, I was a miserable chorus girl in an opera house, and you had forgotten about me until the night of Hannibal. You didn't even notice me the day you first came to the Populaire. I was just a dancer then, not a prima donna. But when you heard me sing that night, it was then that you chose to pursue me. But there was another who loved me before I was even a dancer. He loved me before I was a prima donna…and in fact, without him, I would never have been a prima donna! Where were you all those years, Raoul? Where were you when I needed comfort from the loss of my sweet Father, when I cried myself to sleep every night and prayed that God would bring him back to me? Where, Raoul?" Her voice was growing louder and higher in pitch the longer she went on. "You weren't there for me! And yet all the while, I had an Angel who was truly sent to me from Heaven, who comforted me and watched over me while I slept, who helped me to become more than I ever dreamed I could be!"
Raoul sat before her, completely speechless and stunned. His mouth hung open slightly, and he couldn't believe that his sweet Christine was nearly shrieking at him in such an accusatory tone. She went on, much to his dismay. "When you came to my dressing room that first night, you came to me as if you had never left my life. You began to tell me what to believe and how to act, and where to go…as if you simply had the right to do so…and I didn't even realize it until this very moment. Has there ever been anything that you have been denied in your life, Raoul de Chagny? Anything?"
He finally found his voice, and regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. "You, Christine! I have been denied the peace and pleasure of a life with the only woman that I have ever loved! And it is all because of a sick, twisted monster with half a face!" He gasped when Christine's small hand struck him hard across his cheek.
"You will not speak of him in that way ever again!" she hissed at him, her eyes glowing fiercely. "He is a man, Raoul! A man! You do not know why he has been afflicted with his face, nor do you know the pain that he has suffered because of it! And if you are so clearly lacking in compassion, then perhaps it is you who is the monster!"
"Compassion?" he huffed. "Compassion for a man who has likely taken so many lives that he has lost count? Compassion for a man who almost added me to that number and stole you from me? How could you ever expect it from me, Christine!" His face was twisted into an angry sneer.
Christine's expression went from enraged to coldly bitter in seconds. "There it is. You have said it yourself. You believe that he nearly stole me away from you. Stole! As if I am one of your prized possessions who needs to be kept under lock and key! I feel as though you've never treated me as a person, Raoul! I have dreams as well, and I wish to pursue them! And you have never understood that."
"Christine, that simply isn't true," he replied, becoming a bit less agitated. "I admire your dreams and talents, but it is simply not fitting for the wife of a Viscomte to--"
"Yes, I know," she interrupted again. "In order to marry you, I would have to keep my singing to a minimum, and dancing would be nonexistent. My life on the stage would effectively be over, if it isn't already. I want the life of a married woman, Raoul, but I also want to have a husband who would support me no matter what I did."
Raoul opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say, and looking a bit like a codfish. Can I honestly say that I would support her in any endeavor? He sighed. "Christine, to live the life of aristocracy means that sometimes you must sacrifice certain dreams for the sake of propriety."
She looked at him with a small amount of sympathy. "Perhaps then, I am not willing to make such a sacrifice. All of this horror that has happened in the past two weeks has forced me to take a long look at my own heart and my own dreams and desires. You were willing to sacrifice 'propriety' in order to make me your wife, Raoul. But you are a man, and I am a woman. And such luxuries are not afforded to women."
He could not argue with her logic, and he was caught off guard by the maturity that seemed to flow from her words. Madame Dubois stepped to the door of the kitchen. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Monsieur le Viscomte, but we are about to open and I must instruct Mademoiselle Daae in her duties for the day." She curtsied again, and Raoul nodded. He turned to Christine and smiled slightly, amused at Madame Dubois' completely insincere display of gentility. Christine simply stared at him, arms folded in front of her again. "Darling, would you grant me the privilege of escorting you to dinner this evening? I wish to discuss these things further with you. Please, give me another chance." He reached up to touch her face, and again she pulled away.
"I-I can't go with you tonight, Raoul. I have made…other plans." She suddenly grew very nervous and cast her eyes downward. "I'm sorry."
He gave her an inquisitive look. "Plans? With whom, may I ask?"
"Yes, plans, and no, you may not ask with whom, as I am no longer your fiancée," she remarked coldly, immediately wishing that she had been less blunt with him.
His face turned ashen. "It's with him, isn't it? Merde, Christine! How in the hell can you be so foolish, after everything he put you through? He is a wanted murderer! He should be locked up for what he has done, don't you understand?" Raoul felt guilty for using such language in her presence, but he could not contain his shock and anger.
She stood from her chair abruptly, glaring down at him and nearly knocking him backwards. Raoul stared up at her, thinking that she looked very much like a woman full of fire and fury. "This conversation is over. If you will excuse me…" she remarked coldly, stepping around him toward the door.
"Christine, wait!" he exclaimed. "I…I think that you owe me at least one more chance to plead my case. Please, allow me to take you to dinner another evening. Forgive me…I did not mean to anger you." He looked pleadingly into her fiery brown eyes, and she softened a bit. "I-I don't know, Raoul. It would likely serve no purpose but to prolong the inevitable."
"I just want to understand your perspective, my love. I want to hear all of your feelings…please."
She sighed in frustration, turning to leave the room. She replied, speaking slightly over her shoulder at him. "I'm sorry, I…I have to go to work." She walked to the storefront and he was left alone in the kitchen, still kneeling. Look at me, he thought woefully. Look at what I have been reduced to because of him! He stood, brushing off his trousers, and straightened. Stepping into the storefront room, he bowed to the ladies as they were discussing the work for the day. "Madame, Mademoiselle, good day to you both." He exited the front door and Christine slumped at the sewing machine, relaxing at last.
"What was that all about, dearie?" Madame Dubois asked her, raising both eyebrows expectantly.
Christine knew that she had heard much of the conversation, and she glanced at Madame Dubois sideways, smirking. "Nothing, Madame. Everything is fine."
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A/N: Okay, the confrontation has ended. Or has it? -chuckles- Well, I have to make sure you all keep reading, don't I? I'm going to have to come clean right now and say that Raoul isn't my favorite person. A nice guy, but I don't really like him all that much! This chapter was a "vent" for me as well as Christine! -sigh- Well, now, I'm glad I got that off my chest! Thanks again for the reviews. Cookies to my reviewers! (Or, if you'd rather…Erik smooches!) Tee hee!