CHAPTER FIVE

By dawn, she was dressed and ready, even though she knew it was too early for her to accomplish her errand. She sat down on the sofa to wait for Erik to rise and permit her exit.

When he came out of his room, he was again in formal attire, and the mask was back in place.

He looked at her only briefly, then crossed the room to a device comprised of knobs and levers. It was, as she had suspected, the locking and unlocking mechanism for all the routes into his home. Some of them she knew were rigged with traps, and she had a brief moment of fear that his permissiveness would turn to anger and cause her to fall to her death in a pit or something equally terrifying. Then she laughed at her foolishness. For all his volatility, she knew he wouldn't hurt her – even now, when she was hurting him.

He turned, not really looking at her. "I'll take you across," he said. "Then you know the way out."

"Alright."

She followed him down to the boat. "Don't you even want to ask where I'm going?"

"I think I can guess well enough. I hope you and the boy will be happy enough together."

She looked up at his tall figure. "Do you really imagine, after last night, that I could be happy with anyone else?"

He looked down into the green water and didn't answer.

When the boat stilled on the other side, he helped her out. "Obviously last night didn't mean to you what it meant to me. Nevertheless, I will always cherish it." He took her hand and kissed it. "Farewell, Christine."

She shook her head. "I'll be back, Erik. Leave the way open for me."

He laughed. "Do you take me for a fool? I know my dreams for us were only ever meant to be that – just dreams. Desperate dreams of a madman. Once you are out of this prison, you won't be coming back to me. I know that. Don't torture me by claiming otherwise."

She put a hand to the side of his face. "My sweet Erik."

Her first stop was a café for breakfast. She sat outside in the sun and relished the feel of its rays on her face. She had been too long in darkness.

Her next stop was to see Madame Giry and Meg, to assure them she was alright. Erik had given her the address, and their reunion was a happy one. She stayed to lunch, all the while assuring them that she was making her own free choice to be with Erik.

"So you do love him, my dear," Madame Giry said. "I so long thought it was so, but then the viscount appeared, and, well…"

"And I foolishly latched onto him as my savior."

"And you don't need to be saved now?" Meg asked. "You're really going back to him?"

Christine nodded. "I don't want to be without him. Is that love?"

Madame Giry chuckled. "You definitely have the look of a woman in love. Only your heart can tell you whether that's true."

"Does he have your heart, Christine?" Meg asked with eager eyes.

She thought hard. "It soars when he sings for me or when he looks at me the way he does, with so much love in his eyes. It pains me to imagine his pain or to see his guarded expression when he remembers not to trust me."

"But do you not still love the viscount?" she asked.

Christine's thoughts went unbidden to last night's love with Erik. Something she'd wanted for a very long time if she was honest with herself. Something she'd imagined in moments of privacy, but never dared reach for.

"I don't think I ever really loved Raoul," she said. "He was all flowers and suppers, and what I want is music and passion."

Madame Giry's eyebrow shot up. "I'll have cross words for our phantom if he doesn't intend to make an honest woman out of you."

Christine suddenly wondered at the thought of marriage. Was she ready for that? She felt a smile settle on her face when she thought of how Erik would look at her when she agreed to be his wife. She'd do anything to see that look. To prove herself to him – prove her love to him.

Now she just had to prove it to herself.

She took her leave of the Giry's with a promise to return with Erik in the near future, and then she took a cab to her next stop.

A uniformed butler took her name and advised her to wait in a sitting room off the main hall. She stepped into a space that was impeccably furnished. It bespoke wealth, but not ostentation. It was the picture of good taste, with brown carpeting, cream colored walls and curtains and matching settees and chairs.

Before she could study it further, the door burst open and Raoul had snatched her up into his arms.

"Oh my god, Christine," he blurted out in a rush. "I so thought I might never see you again. Did that monster actually let you go?"

She nodded. "He's given me my freedom."

Raoul hugged her close again, but she put a hand to his chest to keep some distance between them.

"I haven't come to renew our engagement, Raoul."

He looked at her with furrowed brows. "What do you mean? I don't consider our engagement to have ever been broken. I don't blame you for that monster's actions."

She wasn't sure what he meant, but she knew she didn't want him to elaborate further. "He has treated me kindly, Raoul, and I mean to return to him. That's what I've come to tell you – that my choice that night was my unforced choice. That it's Erik I can't live without."

His eyes widened, and then he crushed her to him again. "Oh, the things he's made you think. Can't you see how he's manipulated you? He's twisted your thoughts. He's turned you against me."

She stepped out of his embrace. "I'm no longer yours, Raoul. I never really was. I let you sweep me off my feet with promises of what I thought I should want. But my heart wants him. It always has."

He was shaking his head back and forth. "You can't possibly want that…that creature."

"Don't call him that," she snapped. "You've no right."

"I've every right to call him a murdering kidnapper."

"You'll never prove that he murdered anyone, Raoul, and I know the truth of all these things. I understand his actions. You would, too, if you knew him."

"He's a madman, Christine."

"He's my lover."

Raoul's mouth dropped open, and he took a step back from her. "Is that what you had to do to escape?" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry."

"It's what I had to do to show him I love him."

Raoul's head was still shaking side to side. "I can't believe this, Christine. I won't." He reached out and clasped her hand. "I love you. Does that mean nothing to you anymore?"

"It means I regret hurting you. But hurt you I must. Better that we both learn the truth now than to be stuck in a marriage where I would always be craving the presence of another."

He turned around and put his back to her. "If you mean this, Christine, then leave here and never come back. I won't save you when your little romance turns to death and destruction."

"No, you're no longer my savior, Raoul. I don't need saving."

He turned back to her. "I pray that's true."

She departed without another word between them and began a slow walk back to the opera house.

She passed through every passage and doorway filled with fear that the next one would be closed against her. But none of them were. If he hadn't believed she'd return, it seemed he hadn't quite let go of the hope. That pleased her. He wanted to trust her.

When she got to the edge of the lake, she was surprised to see the boat was on her side. Erik must have gone out. Swallowing her disappointment, she stepped gingerly into the boat and pushed her way across the steaming water.

Once on the other side, she considered how she wanted things to go when he returned. He would be surprised. He probably still wouldn't believe she didn't have some ulterior motive. How could she convince him?

She walked into her room on nervous legs and again surveyed the contents of her wardrobe. Every dress in it was bright and innocent – all save one. At the far end gleamed a dress of the deepest black. It was of fine silk with a tight bodice, a skirt that was only slightly flared, and mock sleeves. It left much of her skin exposed – neck, chest, arms – but only when she put it on did she see its true beauty. The silk was so fine that it reflected back every color of the rainbow. Her bodice was sheened a deep blue, the gathered fabric around her hips returned yellow and red in the candlelight. When she moved, the dress shimmered like a lake surrounded by a myriad of lights.

Yes, this was the dress she would wear. She was no longer the innocent girl. She was the mistress of a man who ruled a dark domain. She would prove to him that she could stand with him, beside him – until the day they were ready to leave the opera house together. And, if he was never ready, if his fears never allowed him to leave this place, she would stay, too. His home was her home now.

She heard splashing and the sound of Erik hesitantly calling her name and ran into the living room. She stood beside the piano as he sloshed up the stairs to the main level.

He stopped at the top step and looked at her – really looked at her. Then she saw him let out a breath. "Christine...?" he asked. His voice sounded like that of a lost little boy.

"I'm back, Erik. I told you I would be."

"How can you be here? You were at the viscount's. I saw you go in." His hesitant gaze turned into a sneer. "You needn't have come back to give me the happy news."

"The happy news? You mean that I've officially broken my engagement with Raoul and finally convinced him that you were my choice – my free, honest choice?"

He took a step toward her, emotions warring across the features revealed by the mask. "Have I left you any room to make your own choice, Christine? Haven't I controlled you from the start?"

She shook her head. "You overestimate your ability to control and underestimate your ability to inspire. You've inspired me from the very start – first with your voice and then with the courage to face what I truly felt. What I felt for you."

"Why do you say such things to me?" His voice was pained.

"Because I love you, Erik. And I need you to believe that."

He looked at her then with a blank expression. Then his eyes roved over her body. "I can't even believe you're here."

"Oh, Erik…" She closed the distance between them. "Believe that I'm here. Believe that I'm here because I love you with all my heart. I can't be without you – even today was too long."

His arms closed about her. "Today was the longest day of my life."

She leaned her head against his chest and began to hum, then sing:

Say you'll share with me one love, one life time;

Let me save you from your solitude.

Say you'll want me with you, here – beside you.

Anywhere you go let me go too.

He finished the stanza with her:

That's all I ask of you.

"Do you mean it?" he asked.

"Every word," she said, nodding.

He pulled her flush against him, pressing her into his hard body. "Feel how I ache for you, Christine. I love you. I love you more than life. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, Erik, forever and only yours."

He pressed her head against his chest and choked back a sob.

"Don't cry, my love," she whispered. "There's no more need for tears between us."

He took some deep breaths, then lowered his head to whisper a feather-light kiss across her lips.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she posed.

"Ask me anything," was his quick response.

"What exactly are your intentions toward me?"

Surprise crossed his face. "My…my intentions?"

"I believe you have a wedding dress stashed around here somewhere."

Erik's eyes got wide, and he dropped to one knee. "Christine? Are you saying…? Are you saying you want to be my wife?"

She smiled at him and leaned down to take off his mask. "Are you asking?"

He laughed. "For the love of god – yes, I'm asking. Christine, will you do me the very great honor of marrying me?"

"There's nothing I want more than to be your wife."

He brought her hand to his lips and graced it with a reverent kiss. "I've already picked out your wedding gift," he said.

"You have?"

He nodded. "I haven't bought it yet, but I picked it out weeks ago. If anyone else had put in an offer, I'd have snapped it up before now. As it is, you can have the opportunity to look at it first and see if you like it. I can have the property manager show it to us tomorrow."

"Do you mean you're buying us a house? Outside?"

He nodded. "I don't want my wife living in a cave."

"But…but…I thought…"

"I know, but none of that matters. Nothing matters if you're with me. If you're with me I can face the sun again, face the stares of passersby. Nothing matters if you love me."

"And nothing matters if you love me. If you want to live down here forever, I'll be at your side. You don't have to leave this place for me."

He shook his head. "In this place I've known nothing but loneliness. I want a new home for our new love."

"I'm sure it's marvelous."

He nodded. "I think so. It's a townhouse, not too far from here. It's on the end, and the walls are well constructed. We can practice without fear of being sued by our neighbors."

"Neighbors…" She pondered the thought that she and the phantom of the opera were soon to have neighbors.

"And the wedding?" she asked.

He nodded. "Let's have it in the house. We can invite the Girys to be our witnesses."

"You seem to have planned quite a bit for not believing that I'd come back."

A blush rose to his cheeks, surprising her. "I couldn't believe that last night meant nothing to you. It was like nothing I've ever even dreamt of feeling, Christine. I had to believe you felt that, too." His gaze darkened. "It was only upon seeing you stop outside the viscount's that I began to lose faith."

"He's nothing to me, Erik. Not lover, not fiancé, not friend."

"Not even friend?"

She shook her head. "If he's not a friend of yours, he's not a friend of mine."

Erik ran his hands through his hair, and then grasped her by the shoulders. "Forgive me, Christine. I should shower you with kisses until you can't draw breath, but I need you too much." His eyes darkened. "I need to be inside you."

Desire coursed through her and raw need rose up to match his own. "I'm yours, my darling."

He kissed her deeply – once, then again. When he wrenched up the fabric of her skirt and found nothing but stockings, he let out a deep groan. "You'll be the death of me," he gasped.

She locked her arms around his neck. "Touch me, Erik."

He moved his hand up the leg she had wrapped around his hip and touched her most sensitive flesh. For a moment, he didn't move – just rested his head against hers. "You're so wet for me."

"Always for you."

He stroked her gently, and she felt herself readying for him. She reached one hand down to the buttons of his trousers, finding him hard and already thrusting into her palm. He reached both hands under her dress, hoisted her up around his waist and pushed her back against the side of the piano.

She guided him into her, sinking down onto him in desperation for the intimate contact. "Don't ever stop doing this to me," she said. "I'll never stop wanting it."

He shook his head, eyes closed, and began thrusting into her with all his pent up hurt, love and desire. Then he looked at her, love shining in his eyes, and Christine tightened her grip around him as the intensity of the moment crested her over pleasure's edge.

"Yes," he called to her, through her haze of sensation. "Do that for me, Christine – only me."

"Only you," she repeated back breathlessly. "Only you."

"I love you, wife," he said.

She looked up and met his gaze. "And I love you, Erik. You are my heart."

With a cry she couldn't decipher – part groan, part sob, part ecstatic shout – he came into her and clutched her to him.

Slowly setting her down, he smoothed his hands along the length of her hair. Tucking himself back into his pants, he stepped slightly back.

"I have a ring for you," he said. "Will you wear it?"

Telling herself she wasn't going to cry, she just nodded while he went to fetch a plain gold band.

"I didn't want it to be anything like your viscount's, but if you think it's too plain…"

She shook her head. "I love it, Erik." She slipped it onto her finger. "It's perfect."

He grinned at her. "I don't suppose I could convince you to wear only the ring for the rest of the time we're here?" His grin widened. "Except maybe for those black stockings."

She felt her jaw drop as she laughed. "It may take me a little time to get used to playful Erik."

"Even I can't be brooding all the time," he replied.

"No?" She arched her brows.

"Well, maybe I can, but I'm turning over a new leaf – no, a whole new life. A life with you. A life with love." His eyes clouded over for a moment. "I've never known a life with love in it. You have no idea what you've given me."

"Erik, you make me feel like the only woman in the world. You've given me yourself, body and soul, and no woman could ask for a more precious gift."

"I love you, Christine. The words hardly seem adequate."

"And your future wife loves you, Erik. Now and always. No backward glances. Only forward from now on. Forward together."

He pulled her to him, and they shared a quiet moment as memories of hurts between them faded into nothingness.

Christine was the first to pull away, but she took Erik's hand in hers. "Come and love me, husband," she said, smiling.

Fire flared in his eyes even as he smiled back at her. "Whatever my diva commands."

fin