Disclaimer: I love Erik. I didn't create him, though…but I still love him! Also, I need to acknowledge G. Giordani for use of his lyrics.

Chapter Forty

"Oh, my goodness, it's almost time for supper!" Christine gasped, noticing the clock on the mantle. "Erik will be picking me up for Mass this evening…I have to go and get ready! He could be there waiting for me right now!" Christine stood abruptly and kissed Meg hurriedly on the cheek. "Forgive me for leaving so quickly…and Meg, I can't thank you enough for what you did for me today!"

"Christine, you're my sister and kindred spirit…I will always be here for you when you need me," Meg smiled warmly.

Christine hurried out the door and down the wooden stairs from the Girys' flat. She had just exited the outside door to the building when a familiar dark carriage pulled up directly in front of her. She smiled as the door opened and a black, gloved hand reached out toward her. She stepped up to the door and peered inside at Erik, who was dressed in his cloak and fedora, looking rather dashing. He always takes my breath away, she marveled. "Monsieur, do I know you?" she grinned.

He smiled slyly at her. "Aren't you going to ask me how I knew where to find you?" He grasped her small hand and pulled her inside quickly, closing the door behind her.

"And spoil the mystery? Never!" she giggled. She tried to seat herself opposite him, but Erik had other ideas. He encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her onto the seat next to him, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Mon amour, you deserve a standing ovation for your performance this afternoon with the Viscomte," he chuckled. "You may very well have saved me from the firing squad."

She glanced at him, annoyed that he would say such a thing. "Erik! Don't speak like that!" She placed her hand on his left cheek. "I don't ever want anything to happen to you." Her eyes glistened with moisture. "And I don't know what came over me this afternoon, or how I knew that it was you in that carriage, but…I knew I had to do something, or everything we've dreamed of could have been taken from us."

Erik leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Thank you, Christine. You were the answer to my prayers at that very moment…it must have been the Lord who gave you the knowledge and courage to do what you did."

She smiled. "He has blessed us, Erik. Perhaps one day He will bless us even more. Do you believe that He has brought us to this place? I mean, do you think that He has meant for us to be together?"

"How can you even question that, after all we've been through?" he asked her seriously. "And I know that He has great things in store for us. His plan is to give us a future and hope…no matter what else life may bring our way."

Christine snuggled in to him, her head resting against his shoulder. She could smell his cologne…it reminded her of the woods and of spices all at once. She sighed and felt utterly at peace. "Are we off to Mass now?"

"Yes. I told Father Michel that we would sing and play a hymn tonight. He was ecstatic!" he laughed. "We should get there a bit early to practice it once or twice, don't you agree?"

Then it was Christine's turn to laugh. "Erik, you have always been my teacher. Since when do you ask my opinion on such matters?"

He tightened his hold on her. "Since I learned that you wished to spend the rest of your life as my wife…my partner in all things. Your opinion is very important to me, mon amour." He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "But…" he chucked softly, "I'm afraid I have already chosen the song that we are to sing."

"Why am I not surprised?" she laughed, jabbing him lightly in the ribs with her elbow.

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"Oh, thank you, both of you!" Father Michel beamed, as Erik and Christine made ready to leave after Mass. "Your rendering of 'Venez Divin Messie' was so very uplifting. I find it hard to believe that Christmas is so close at hand! Only a few more weeks and we will celebrate Christ's birth once again!" He shook his head. "It seems strange to me that I have only known you both for a short time. You feel like family to me," he smiled tenderly.

"You are family to us, Father," Erik remarked, glancing at Christine, who nodded as he wrapped his arm about her shoulders. "We shall most likely see you in the morning." He winked at Father Michel and the men exchanged knowing glances.

"Very well, then, my boy. See you tomorrow."

Erik helped Christine with her cloak and they stepped outside to climb into the carriage. "Are you hungry, mon ange? It is getting late, and neither of us have eaten."

Christine thought for a moment. "Yes, I think so. In all my nervousness about singing in the church, I seemed to have forgotten about my stomach's earlier demands."

Erik pulled her close inside the carriage. "You were wonderful, Christine. Now—let's find a café or a bakery and get a few things to take along the way."

"Along the way?" She questioned him, perplexed. "Are we going somewhere?"

He said nothing, but his lips curved upward at the corners and it made her stomach quiver. "Fine, then," she said, feigning annoyance. "If you loved me, you wouldn't keep secrets from me." She tried not to giggle, but she couldn't help herself.

"Now, Christine, that is a horrible thing to say!" Erik laughed. "I am not Samson, and you most certainly are not Delilah! You shall have to wait and see." He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to look mysterious (which, in her opinion, was easy for him to do).

She laughed loudly, attempting to muffle the sound with her hand. "Alright, Erik, alright. I'll humor you this time," she said, poking his ribs again.

After getting some breads, meats and cheeses from a small shop, Christine stepped back into the carriage and they were on their way again. She was nearly bouncing with anticipation, and she clung to the lapels of his jacket beneath his cloak, smiling up at him. "I can't wait to see where you're taking me…you are being so secretive tonight!"

"It isn't far," he remarked, raising an eyebrow at her and trying to remain stoic otherwise. Inside, however, he was trembling. He had planned the entire event days before, but he still felt the need to go over and over it again in his mind.

At last, the carriage turned down a street with which Christine was only slightly familiar. Though she had lived in Paris for many years, her whole life had been the Opera. She felt as if she barely knew her own city. Erik, however, had lurked about in the shadows for many years, even before Christine had been brought to live with the Girys. I know this place, he thought. It was here that I found beauty and a modicum of peace, before I truly knew what peace was.

Les Jardins du Luxembourg were bathed in moonlight already, though it was not late in the evening. The winter days were short, and there was a chill in the air. Some of the flowers there were still clinging to life, though practically covered with frost every night in recent memory. Erik reached up and put his hands over Christine's eyes. She laughed.

"At it again, are we, Erik?"

"I have wanted to bring you here for so many years, Christine. I believe that you will love it here." He kept a firm grip on her as he helped her from the carriage, making sure one hand was still over her eyes, and one around her waist. Erik instructed the driver to wait for them in the same location, and then he led her away. She could hear the soft swish of grass beneath her shoes, and the rustling of the trees in the wind. She shivered, and Erik was attuned to her immediately. "Here, mon ange, come closer to me." He wrapped one side of his cloak around her shoulders, and drew his face near hers. "We are almost there," he whispered.

At last, Christine no longer felt the cushion of the grass beneath her feet, but a hard, flat surface. And she heard something…water? Where am I?

Erik spoke in a hushed tone. "The beauty of this place cannot compare to you, Christine, mon amour." He removed his hand from her eyes and she was astonished at the sight. A large fountain stood before her, filled with water. A tall, ornamental sculpture loomed behind it, and she thought that it looked familiar. "Erik…where are we?"

"We are in Les Jardins du Luxembourg, mon ange. And this," he said, motioning before them, "is the Médici fountain." He looked upon it fondly, and Christine was enthralled with its design, and the way the moonlight played upon the water. Above their heads, the trees still clung to a few brown leaves, yet most had been swept away by the wind weeks before. Near them were a canal and walkways surrounded by large groupings of flowers. Christine could only make out a few colors in the night…everything was painted in a surreal black and white. So very much like Erik. No wonder he loves it here. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "Thank you for bringing me here, Erik. It's so beautiful…and tranquil." She smiled up at him and he traced the outline of her face with the fingertips of one hand.

"Mon ange, I…I need to…speak with you about something," Erik stammered anxiously. "I know that we have discussed courting, but I…I just don't think that I can do that now."

Christine pulled away from him, clearly disturbed. "What? Erik, I…I don't understand, I thought that…." Confusion began to well up within her. "Please tell me what you mean."

Suddenly, he knelt before her on one knee and pulled a velvet box from under his cloak. He opened it, and the moonlight immediately reflected in the cut diamond of Christine's engagement ring. She gasped and could not hold back her tears of joy. "Oh, Erik," she breathed.

Suddenly his rich tenor filled the air:

Caro mio ben, Credimi almen,

Senza di te languisce il cor.

Il tuo fedel sospira ognor

Cessa, crudel, tanto rigor!

Caro mio ben, credimi almen,

Senza di te languisce il cor.

"Lo sposerete?"

Christine was enraptured by the beauty of his voice. She knew the song well…it spoke of love and a languishing heart…but she did not understand the words that he had spoken to her. "Erik…what…"

Her question went unspoken as he looked upon her with a fire in his eyes. "Christina Rosel Daae," he spoke, using her traditional Swedish name, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife at last?"

She smiled through her tears and dropped to her knees before him, taking his face in her hands. "Erik Durand, I will," she replied simply, leaning into him and kissing him with as much passion and emotion that she felt at that moment. He returned her kiss and for several moments, they were lost in each other. Erik was the first to pull away, and he reached into the small box, retrieving the ring. He reached for her left hand and slid the platinum band to the base of her ring finger. "It looks as though it has always belonged there," Erik said softly.

Christine studied the ring briefly. "It's…it's incredibly beautiful, Erik. But…you shouldn't have purchased such an expensive one for me…I--"

Erik interrupted her. "Ah, now Christine, you are not allowed to tell me how much money I can spend on the woman that I love. After all, you are to become my wife, and I plan to shower you with gifts and roses and anything your heart desires for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

She sighed, shaking her head. "My darling Erik, I don't need any of those things. I just want a simple life…with you. You are what I need and desire…not things."

"Somehow, I knew you would say that, mon ange," he chuckled. "Now, my future bride, let's go and find a secluded flower garden."

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Erik?"

He burst into laughter at the look on her face. "Mon ange, I don't plan to seduce you here in the gardens! We simply need to find a place to sit and eat our supper." He laughed boisterously for several more seconds, and Christine was sure that she had never heard him laugh so heartily before. It was infectious, and she began to laugh as well. Then a thought dawned on her. "Erik…when are we to be married?" She glanced at him with a mixture of embarrassment and hopefulness.

"I told you that I would not take you as my wife until you were truly ready. Do you believe that you are?"

Christine was indignant. "Of course I am! I know that I am young, but I am now eighteen years of age and can make my own choices as a woman. What more can I do to prove my love for you, Erik? I have spent every evening with you for nearly a month now, and I have ended my relationship with Raoul. I want to belong to you, as your wife. I have waited long enough, don't you think? Ten years, even when I didn't even realize what it was that I had been feeling?"

Erik listened intently as she spoke. "You seem determined, Christine…more sure of yourself than I've ever heard you. And yes…I think that ten years is long enough, my darling," he laughed softly. "We will be married as soon as you can choose a gown, and as soon as we can make the arrangements and invite our guests. We shall have to keep it a very small ceremony, of course…but I truly wish that I could give you the magnificent wedding that you deserve in a grand cathedral such as La Madeleine or Nôtre-Dame." He shook his head in frustration.

"Erik, I don't need any grand cathedral. The point of a wedding is not the pomp and circumstance, but the end result. All I need is you." Erik marveled again at her love and acceptance. Reflecting upon his upcoming nuptials, he wasn't even certain of what he was feeling. He only knew that he had never been happier in his life. Christine excitedly chattered about the guest list while they ate their light meal.

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The train hissed as it pulled to a stop at the station, and the elderly gentleman stepped on to the platform, grasping the handle of his large carpet bag tightly. It's been a long time, he thought. Far too long. Oh, please let Erik be alright. Great God, hear my prayer…let him be alive.

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A/N: Well, I only got one review for the last chapter, for which I am grateful. Are the rest of you upset with me? -cringes in the corner- I know that many of you had expected the confrontation between Raoul and Erik, so I hope that you weren't too disappointed. I just feel like Erik deserves a new start, rather than jail time or execution, don't you agree? And I certainly don't trust Raoul at this point…so I thought it best to keep ol' Raoulie in the dark. Thoughts, please? Anyone? By the way, I'm trying to type furiously again. I had an insane weekend, so I'm sorry I haven't been able to update for a few days. I may be able to get yet another chapter up in a couple days. Don't worry…I won't abandon you, I promise!