September 16th 1892: Christine
Erik's only reaction was a surprised "Oh". I had probably shocked him so much that he couldn't say anything else. Yet of course that hadn't been my intention, not at all. On the contrary: If I had known he'd interpret my words like that, I'd have put it differently. I had thought it was clear that I was talking about me.
I started apologising almost before I knew what I was doing.
"I didn't mean to startle you," I said, although I was aware that ´startle´ probably was an understatement. "But you must know that I'd never talk about you in such a disrespectful way. Of course you can control yourself and your urges… unlike me." I gazed at the ground intently.
"That's not true," he contradicted me gently. "There were many situations in which something could have happened between us, but you never gave in to your wishes… though I naturally can't be sure what your wishes were at that time. Anyway, we only kissed. That's nothing you have to be ashamed of." His voice was soft and soothing, just like it had sounded when he had comforted Philippe. It made me feel so much better that I dared look up again.
Erik gave me a smile.
""I'm not ashamed," I told him. "I'm frightened. What if I do give in to the temptation? You have no idea how hard it is to resist you."
I had expected understanding, yet what I got was laughter. I glared at him. Did he really think such a problem funny? Seeing the expression on my face he tried to become serious again.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm just not used to being called ´hard to resist´. ´Hard to avoid´ - that's what I've heard a couple of times at the opera." He chuckled again. I couldn't help smiling as well.
"Maybe it is a little funny," I admitted. "But can't you understand my fear? I guess it's all very easy for you men. Raoul said that I shouldn't tell him if you and I make love, and you just laugh about everything." I didn't even notice my voice growing louder and more accusing. Being angry was much better than being afraid. Maybe it would be easier to cope with that new emotion.
"Christine, you have to calm down… please," Erik pleaded. "If you go on talking like that, the children and Jacqueline will hear you and wonder whether something happened. So you can either be a little more quiet, or we'll have to continue this conversation on a different bench."
His sensibility was rather effective. As much as I loved my children, I didn't want to explain my situation to them. Things were complicated enough the way they were.
Silently I shook my head. I wanted to stay here.
"I'd never laugh about your problems," he told me after a few moments. "I know how hard it can be to control oneself. But what do you think I'm there for?"
"You?" I repeated blankly.
"Well, you can hardly make love to me without my consent," he pointed out. "I'd stop you at once if I noticed you didn't really want it, but were just controlled by your urges. And believe me, I'd know the difference."
"Thank you," I whispered.
"But what did you say about the Vicomte before?" he asked. "Did that really happen or were you just a little upset?"
I knew immediately what he was referring to.
"Yes, it happened," I replied. "Raoul told me that if we made love, he didn't want to know it. I'm still not sure what you think about it, though…" My voice trailed off as I recalled the confusion his words had caused in my heart.
If Erik was pleased or irritated about that revelation, he didn't show it.
"Do you have any idea why he said that?" he wanted to know.
"I even have several ideas," I answered with a sigh. I had spent quite a while thinking about it. "Perhaps he trusts me so much that he assumes nothing will happen anyway. That would be a good sign for our relationship, of course. But it could also mean he cares so little about me that it doesn't matter whether I make love to another man."
"Or it could mean that he's just as afraid as you are," he interjected. "He's afraid that you could make love to another man, so he prefers not to know it. Besides, he's even more afraid of losing you for good. He told me so himself."
"He told you?" I asked incredulously. I'd have never believed that Raoul would tell Erik anything he didn't have to, especially not about his feelings.
He nodded.
"That's why he didn't like the idea of me living in your house," he explained. "He's afraid you might get used to me and finally like me better than him."
"But that's – " I had been about to say ´absurd´, but stopped myself as I realised it would have been an insult. Moreover, it wasn't that absurd after all. It sounded rather… logical. "That's possible," I muttered to myself.
Unfortunately I had forgotten Erik's excellent hearing.
"It is?" he wanted to know.
"Many things are possible," I hastened to say. "But let's not talk about that topic now." I sensed that I had to stop him before he started asking questions about how he could make me like him more than my husband. I didn't want him to dream of something that might never happen. "So Raoul's afraid, and I'm afraid, too," I stated, mainly to change the subject. "It seems that you're the only fearless person around then."
"You have no idea," he said quietly. "I'm afraid of so many things, of losing you, of never having you at all…"
"You've got me now," I reminded him. "Perhaps we should forget about the future and focus on the present. It's far less frightening."
He threw me a long, sad glance.
"To me, the present is frightening enough," he murmured. "I don't even dare take your hand anymore."
"I do," I said simply.
My heartbeat sped up as I approached his hand, which was lying on his leg. ´Don't be stupid!´ I told myself. ´You've held his hand a thousand times. There's no need for becoming anxious now.´ Still I couldn't help feeling as if it were the very first time that this was happening. My arm moved closer inch by tentative inch. Finally my fingertips brushed over the back of his hand.
It was only then that I noticed he had taken off his gloves while examining Philippe's knee and hadn't put them on again. The effect of my skin on his was overwhelming. I wouldn't have believed that such a little touch could be this wonderful. I had been deprived of being close to him far too long. The realisation that I had been responsible for the deprivation only made matters worse. I was desperate to touch him, no matter what the consequences might be.
Instead of taking his hand I practically threw myself into his arms, which he stretched out just in time. It was like coming home. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, just in case he'd ever think about letting go of me. Yet apparently there was no danger of him doing that. One of his hands pressed me against his chest, while the other one sneaked into his hair. Almost automatically my lips found his.
The sensations rushing through my body were nearly too intense for me to bear. They made my blood boil and my breath quicken. Erik's passion seemed to match mine, for me kissed me as if he hadn't done so for a century. His hands were stroking my hair and my back, and his tongue caressed mine. For a few moments the world was perfect.
Admittedly there was a little voice in my head, telling me this had to stop. After all, it was possible that someone saw us. It was even possible that Jacqueline and the children saw us. That was a risk we couldn't rule out. And what would we say to them? I didn't care. The kiss was the only thing that mattered to me. I felt far too good to waste my time with pondering.
I was brought back to earth abruptly when he pushed me away from him with so much power that I nearly landed on the ground. We stared at each other, breathing hard. Erik was the first one to regain the ability to speak.
"I'm even more pathetic than I thought," he muttered grimly. "A few minutes ago I was still telling you about self-control and the importance of holding oneself back, and at the first occasion I forget all about it and give in to my urges. And I actually believed I could sleep next to you! The moment you'd touch me I'd lie on top of you! No, I can't do all this…"
With these words he jumped up and walked away.
"What are you doing?" I called after him. I couldn't' believe that he just left me alone after such a kiss.
He slowed down a little.
"I'm going for a walk," he replied. "There are many things I have to think about. Don't worry – I'll be back before the coach arrives." Then he marched off.
I sat on the bench for what felt like hours, staring into space as I desperately tried to take in what had happened.