I'm glad that most of you enjoyed the song...it's not the whole song, but it's a great part of it. Catch the CD if you want to hear the whole thing...it's wonderful.

Baby steps for Erik and Christine...enjoy.

MAN OF SORROWS

CHAPTER 14

The night sky was so clear, making the stars glisten and dance as Christine looked longingly into the eternity of space.

"The universe is such a mystery."

Christine quiet words were barely audible above the sounds of the water, but Erik caught the wonder in her voice.

"It does make one feel small and insignificant." Erik agreed, not realizing the wonderment in his tone.

Christine considered his words and the awe she heard in them. The conviction behind the simple phrase was palpable and she knew he was a man of deep faith.

They had been quietly walking along the banks of the river, listening to the quiet swish of the water against its ordained boundary. Every once in a while, the quiet hum of a motor boat was heard as it passed by; its occupants peacefully enjoying the evening air.

Erik walked beside her with his hands folded behind his back and each step steady and sure. He seemed at complete ease in the soft cover of the night, more so than he did in the harsh light of day.

She could smell that intoxicating blend of spices and orange blossoms on the evening breeze and wondered how any woman could resist the appeal he had - his sheer magnetic maleness.

"I still can't believe that I am here talking to you." Christine stated, breaking the silence.

Erik looked over at her, not understanding why she seemed so enthralled to be with him.

"How so?" He asked, with a creased brow.

She timidly shrugged her shoulders and adamantly refused to look up at him.

"I have admired your artwork for several years, ever since I was first introduced to it. I've never been moved by another artist's vision like I have been by yours."

Erik could not understand why her words meant so much to him. He barely knew this woman and yet she had managed to shake the foundations of his organized, secure world.

"Looking at the world through your eyes; seeing the obvious faith you have and the depth of your emotions…" Christine finally chanced a look at him, "…I've never seen an artist depict something as personal and intimate as the creation of a child the way you did."

"That image has a special meaning to me."

His voice soft and strained and a painful hitch was heard in the undertone. She knew that something horrifying had happened to him.

She stopped walking and had been standing for a few seconds before Erik noticed that she had stopped. He retraced his steps back to her and waited for her to continue.

"What happened…why did you suddenly disappear?"

Erik had known it would come, he had expected it much sooner than this. He wasn't certain how much he should tell her, but he had longed for someone to share things with for so long…someone other than Julius and Evie.

Christine realized that she might have overstepped her boundaries. This man was under no obligation to tell her anything, and yet she had virtually demanded that he explain his actions to her.

"I'm sorry; I have no right to ask that question – or any question, for that matter."

Erik didn't answer at first; he walked over to one of the benches and sat down. He seemed lost in thought and remained silent for a good while before finally answering. His eyes remained fixed on a distant place – somewhere in time.

"I wish I could say that it was because of noble reasons, like serving my country or striving for world peace…" he smiled remotely, and then his brow furrowed.

Christine sensed a great loss in his life; someone close to him had left him to face the world alone; perhaps the woman for whom he had written the song he had sung. Somehow, she felt as though he had not emerged from that loss as the same man he was before it occurred.

"Let's just say that I lost my way six years ago and it's taken me several years to find my way back."

Christine couldn't really see his face in the dark, but she knew there was much more to it than that. She also sensed that he both needed and wanted to tell her more, but something prevented him from doing so.

"I'm a really good listener when you're ready to talk about it."

Erik chuckled quietly, and the deep sound touched her heart.

"I'd better be getting you back or they are going to think I've kidnapped you."

Christine smiled up at his shadowed features; the moonlight bathed his masked features in hues of deep blue, casting an eerie light about him that made him even more mysterious.

"Actually, could you just take me home…I'm more than ready to avoid any more small talk…" she chuckled daintily, "…I can talk circles around a class of high school students or any of my constituents; but I am horrible in small group settings."

"I'd be honored to take you home, and I've never been any good with one on one or small groups, either." Erik admitted.

Christine used her cell phone to call Meg and let her know that Erik was going to take her home. Christine could tell that Meg wanted to ask questions, but was too much of a friend to ask them while Erik was within hearing distance.

"All set." She chirped, as she flipped her phone off.

Erik silently led her to his car and opened the door for her to get in. It was at this time that Christine realized he had not mentioned sports, drinking, or cars and he was definitely full of substance.

My perfect man. She thought with a secret smile.

There was a reserved approachability to him that told her he had been hurt by someone, deeply hurt, and he was unsure of his ability to open up to someone else.

Erik started the car and slowly made his way out of the parking garage. Once they were headed toward the city, Christine drew him into another conversation.

"Have you written other music?"

Her question pierced the dark interior of the car, but she watched his sexy mouth turn up at the corners in a slight smile.

"Music could consume me if I allowed it to…it's a passion that I can't turn my back on. I have never made a living with music, but music has taught me a great deal about living."

Christine heard the love in his voice – the love for the freedom that music gave him and the fact that it expected nothing of him. She was there all the time – music - everywhere around him and inside him.

"You certainly have a way with words, Erik."

He smiled, but did not look at her.

"Words are an art form unto themselves, are they not?"

Christine had never given it much thought, but she supposed that they were. Poetry, in all its different forms, was certainly considered art – and had inspired other forms of art throughout the ages.

"I never thought of it that way, but you're right."

She went quiet for a couple of minutes, and just enjoyed being near him. He made her feel safe from the worlds woes; and yet, eager to face each new day.

As they pulled up to the brownstone that housed her apartment, Christine found herself wishing that the night would never end.

"I can't believe I'm going to ask this…" she stated shyly, unable to meet his eyes, "…would you like to come up for some tea?"

Erik wasn't sure how to react to her request, there had not been a woman in his life since Loraine…and looking the way he did, he hadn't thought there ever would be.

Christine noticed his hesitance and immediately became self-conscious. She backed away from him, thinking she had offended him in some way.

"I'm sorry, I'm not normally this forward; forgive me."

Erik was beside himself once again. She was apologizing to him!?

"You have nothing to apologize for, I just..." he sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair, "…it's been a long time since a woman showed any interest in me."

She wrinkled her brow at him and looked completely shocked at his words.

"Who have you been around…lesbians?"

He laughed quite beautifully at that comment and Christine smiled.

She boldly reached out and took his hand in hers, trying desperately to ignore the charge of raw attraction that shot through her.

"Come up for some tea…we can talk or not talk…it's up to you."

She led him, without words, to the elevator. He was quiet as they rode up, and Christine could tell that he was debating with himself about what to say and not to say.

Erik missed the warmth of her hand in his. He had not touched a woman since Loraine – and he realized just how much he had missed it, and wanted it.

Her petite hand fit so perfectly within his much larger one. Her skin was warm and soft, and he longed to see if the rest of her was just as soft.

The elevator stopped and Christine led the way to her apartment door. Once inside, Erik noticed how fresh and warm her apartment was. It smelled like her, and that made him feel oddly at home.

"It's not much, but it's home." She chirped, noticing how he was scanning the area.

"It's quite nice; my apartment is sparsely decorated and infinitely cold." Erik stated. Maybe it's because you're not there. He added in thought.

"Cold?" Christine questioned, wondering what he meant.

"Impersonal…" he clarified, "…and lonely."

Christine chuckled lightly, "That seems strange when Evie's place is so inviting."

Erik smirked surely, "Evie is so much more alive than I am."

Her back was to him, so she swallowed, and said in a sultry tone, "You seem very alive to me."

Christine placed a cup of warm tea in front of him, as well as lumps of sugar and milk, then sat next to him, hoping he had heard the interest in her voice.

"I detect some sort of European accent, and I know that the European's like milk in their tea."

He stared into the warm liquid and spoke quietly.

" London…I was born in London."

"Really…your accent sounds French."

Erik smiled at her, "Really?" His tone was light and teasing. "I do have a deep connection with France…I spent a great deal of time in Rouen…hence the name of my gallery."

She beamed invitingly and breathed, "Tell me more."

TBC