Christine was only gone a moment when waves of remorse washed over me. I groaned…what is wrong with me? All I do is hurt her. I kept hearing Christine that day in my lair, saying I had to stop lashing out, and I had to stop running away. However much I wanted to run, I knew I couldn't. I would have faced the bishop and the tattooist together; anything not to have to face Christine, but there was nothing for it. I had to go in to her.
I walked into the bedroom without knocking. Christine wouldn't even raise her head to look at me.
"Erik, no."
"Christine, please listen, because I'm really scared." The words came pouring out of me in a torrent.
"If you don't let me say this now I'll never find the courage to say it again. I feel like a consummate bastard, and I want to run more than anything. I don't blame you if you tell me to get out of your sight because I don't deserve you and Masson, and I know I'll never be good enough. I don't mean because I'm ugly, I mean because I'm just not right in the head! I don't know what is wrong with me; I don't know why I said those horrible things. Christine, I don't know why I do most of the things I do, I just feel powerless to help myself. How can you stand me? All I do is mistreat you and come crying for forgiveness."
I crawled onto the bed, crying as usual. I put my head in Christine's lap and she stroked my head.
"I'm afraid if you won't sing anymore," I whispered finally.
"Why, my precious?" Christine's voice was so soothing. "What is it that frightens you if I don't sing?"
"I don't know." I hid my face in her skirt.
"You don't know, or you don't want to say?"
I couldn't answer that.
"It's a courageous thing you did to come in here, Erik."
Christine rocked and soothed me just as she always did with Masson. I couldn't help but be struck by the fact that she didn't need me anymore, now she had a real baby to cuddle and love.
"Wouldn't you rather have a man instead of another baby? At least you know Masson will grow up. I hate it that you have to coddle me like an infant; don't you? I feel so ashamed of how I need it!"
"I don't hate it; perhaps if you had it when you were an infant you wouldn't need it so now. It's not shameful, Erik. Everyone wants comfort."
"You're so good, Christine. You deserve so much. You deserve everything, and I've nothing to give you anymore! I'm useless!" I cried harder still then, for failing her so horribly. The only person I'd ever given the least fig in the world about, and I didn't see any way I'd ever be able to make her happy.
"Oh my love, you're anything but useless."
"Please go back to the opera, Christine? I'll do anything you ask. Anything! Please, please!"
"What is this you're afraid of? You can tell me, Erik. You've been so courageous today."
"No more."
"Erik, what bad thing could happen if you tell me?"
"Nothing, I suppose, but it's not so simple!" I insisted. I hid again.
"No, I know it's not simple," Christine had a smile in her voice. "I remember how afraid I was to come and seek you out when I left Raoul. Imagine your Christine being afraid to open her heart to you? It sounds silly when I say it out loud, and yet it was very frightening at the time."
"No, you're just going to say something to make me feel better, Christine, it's--"
"Is that what you think of me, Erik? You think I'll lie to you?"
Shit, I'd stepped into it again. I sat up and searched Christine's eyes, trying desperately to make it alright. "No, no, I mean, you'd say something to make me feel better, because you love me. You wouldn't mean to stop loving me, but--"
Uh-oh. I hadn't intended to say that at all, it all just came dribbling out as if my mouth had sprung a leak. Naturally it was sufficient to set me bawling again. I buried my face in the pillows.
"Stop loving you?" Christine exclaimed. "Oh, no, my dear love, how could I stop loving you?" She was right at my ear, I could feel and hear her close. "What has my loving you to do with my singing at the opera?"
"Why would you love me if you weren't singing?"
People always say it's best to have things out in the open. They say that once the bad thing is faced, one feels instantly better. Well, it's a pathetic lie, I can tell you. I told Christine what terrified me, and I had to run from the room to heave my guts up, that's how instantly better I felt.
Right, so I got that out of my system, ha ha, and literally crawled back into the room and on to the bed. Christine was right there with a cool cloth for my head. She lifted my mask away so tenderly and kissed both my horrible cheeks.
"Erik, just rest, and listen. You think you have nothing to offer me if I'm not singing, is that it? You think I love you merely because you helped me with my voice? You have no idea how much you've given me, even if I leave out my baby."
I heard the smile in Christine's voice again. "Perhaps I should worry that you'll stop loving me if I don't sing anymore," she suggested.
"Of course not!"
"It sounds ridiculous when it's said out loud, doesn't it?"
Suddenly there was a crash outside the door.
"MAMA! PAPA!"
Bang! Bang!
"Time to go out!"
Christine opened the door and the little slave-driver marched in. He frowned at me.
"Time to go out, Papa!"
"Papa's got a tummy ache, Masson. Would you like to go for a walk with Mama?" Christine offered.
"NO! Papa!"
"I'm sorry," Reza offered. "I couldn't keep him entertained. Once the duel was over, he decided it was time for a walk."
"It's fine," I assured him. "His clock is quite accurate. Come along, Masson. Mama and I will have plenty of time to talk when you're at university."
. . .
I tried to take up the thread of our conversation with Christine later that evening; she would hear none of it. She told me it was forgotten, and that she was ever so proud of me for facing my fears. I laid awake most of the night, thinking that if I live to be a hundred and fifty, I still won't have learned to be kind of man she deserves.