May 26th 1882

It was about eight o'clock when Christine received her first visitor of the day – Marie gently knocked on the door and greeted her Mistress with a shy smile, bringing the new mother a fresh set of clothing and a cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at the young maid as she left, Christine lifted the green cotton of the garment to her body and peered in a mirror propped against the wall. She bit her lip in worry as she noted the dress may well be a challenge to get on, for women didn't simply snap back to normal after pregnancy had ended (much to her displeasure) and this particular article had been given to her well over two years ago whilst she still danced at the Opera House.

Nonetheless, she dutifully unbuttoned the front and, after removing the robe she'd put on to cover her somewhat tattered party attire, attempted to pull the material over her abdomen. Trying and failing to avoid the still painful wound from the previous evening, Christine winced but persevered and slipped her still slender arms into the mid-length sleeves. Her fingers moved down the front of the bodice to the first button and the soprano took a deep breath, eyes closed, before tugging the fastening to meet the material on the other side. Fortunately the old cotton had some give in it and had previously hung loosely on the slim chorus girl's frame so the task was not quite the trial she'd expected. Looking back to the mirror she pulled a face to see her bump, though it had considerably shrunk, was still prominent enough to make her uncomfortable – not that she planned for any of the public to see her like this.

A small whimper from the whicker cot stirred Christine from her thoughts and she couldn't help but let a proud smile cross her features as she went to comfort Isobel, gently lifting her pint-size form in one arm and stroking the brunette wisps on her daughter's head with her free hand. The delicately-shaped pale blue eyes that continuously watched with an innocent curiosity were staring directly into Christine's own and she couldn't help but lean down and press a chaste kiss to her baby's forehead. She hadn't been prepared to feel so attached so quickly, but there was clearly some truth to the tales of mother-child bonds that Raoul's family had continuously spouted over the past few months…

…And just like that her thoughts were dragged back to Raoul. She'd managed to convince him to accompany the doctor with promises he would see her again today and yet she got a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach just thinking about it. Christine wasn't a dishonest person, or at least it didn't come naturally to her – how could she continue to tell her husband lies for the rest of their lives when she'd flinched just yesterday at his claims of Isobel as his own. He was bound to recognize her discomfort sooner or later and then there would be the awful moment when she finally had to admit what she'd done; that moment would only become worse the longer she stretched out this charade.

She had to tell him the truth. Raoul was a kind, loving husband and he needed, if not deserved, a woman who was fiercely loyal to him, that adored his every feature and quirk, who lived to see that lopsided smile that Christine herself had treasured. She couldn't be that girl, not for him. She had to let him go.

A knock on the door caused her to jump, making Isobel begin to sob in the process. She gently shushed her daughter, softly calling "come in" to the door as she did so and was glad to see Meg's blonde head poke around the door.

"If you're busy I can come back?" Her friend offered, but Christine merely shook her head and so the girl came into the room whilst pushing the door shut behind her. "Maman wanted me to ask whether you wanted one of us to accompany you to the hospital, since we're not sure whether the Vicomte will have been discharged yet. After all, the, um-" Meg paused. "Accident? Well it happened less than twenty four hours ago so I doubt he'll be allowed to leave yet."

Christine nodded her head, slowly placing Isobel back down in the Moses' basket now she'd stopped crying. "I would appreciate the company," She murmured, clearly nervous as she began to nibble at her bottom lip which didn't go unnoticed by Meg.

She raised a hand to the brunette's shoulder, concerned: "Christine?"

The woman swallowed before taking her friend's hand in both her own and meeting her gaze: "I need to tell him the truth, about Isobel, about Eri-"

"Christine are you certain that's a wise idea?" Meg quickly interjected, for she'd anticipated this conversation would happen at some point. She'd spent much of last night thinking of what to say to her friend when it did. "I mean firstly he's been injured, he's in hospital – is he really in any state to hear all this? What if he forgets the entire discussion, we don't know the full extent to which he's been injured yet… And then there's your marriage, he'll be mortified when he has to tell his family and all his associates, the media could get hold of the whole scandal and his life will become utterly miserable because not only will he have lost the woman he loves but he'll have to be constantly reminded about it by the press for weeks!"

The soprano groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I'd never really thought of all that," came the muffled words from between her fingers. She lifted her head to look at Meg again, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. "It shouldn't have happened like this. That should be Raoul's baby lying in that crib…"

"…Or Erik's ring on your finger?" Meg hesitantly added gaining an anxious glance from the pale green eyes. "Oh Christine, you can't keep lying to yourself you know." She lifted a warm hand to the woman's slightly damp cheek. "You wouldn't have searched for him all that time ago, nor gone to the warehouse, and you certainly wouldn't have created a child with him if it wasn't Erik that you loved."

Christine shook her head, her voice hoarse: "No, you don't understand, we just have a connection, his music, my voice-"

"You love him, Christine," Meg's voice was stead and calm, if not slightly quiet to prevent eavesdropping. "The Angel of Music helped you through the hardest times of your life, Erik soothed you and taught you and nurtured you – how could you not love him?"

The silence stretched between them for what felt like hours before the soprano spoke. "I feel like I shouldn't, I feel like I can't," She almost whispered the words. "In my head all these months I've forced myself to think of Raoul and only Raoul, of how happy he makes me, how considerate he is, how much he loves me… But when I dream I can't force myself anymore, I let my guard down. And every dream was of my Erik, Meg. Not one night went by where he didn't appear to me again, where he didn't return to that warehouse and envelope me in his arms where I was safe again." She paused and her eyes held so much turmoil and despair that Meg wanted nothing more than to take the weight from Christine's shoulders. "He's killed people Meg. We all know it and yet somehow I feel safest with him near me."

The blonde rubbed the woman's shoulder sympathetically. "He's changed a bit, you know, since going to England. He's had to learn to be around us, to be more human again – it's done him a world of good. He's not the Phantom anymore," She smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to be afraid of his past."

Sniffing slightly to hold back any tears, Christine grinned appreciatively at her friend and took her in her arms in a tight embrace that she desperately needed. "I have to tell the truth. To both of them."

Meg slowly nodded against Christine's shoulder, her blonde waves bobbing up and down as she did so. The two friends slowly peeled apart and just stood for a moment, holding one another's hands as they took in this calm before the inevitable storm.

"Meg?" Madame Giry's voice rung through from the kitchen and at the sound of her mother the ballerina reluctantly released Christine and moved to the door which joined the two rooms. "Have you done as I asked?"

"Yes, Maman," She chimed. "I'll be accompanying Christine to the hospital."

"Very well," The ballet mistress moved through to the bedroom and peered at the newborn, who was fidgeting in her blankets. A rare smirk crossed her lips at the sight of the little one. "I will be happy to watch this one for you while you're gone, my dear."

The girl smiled at the woman who'd been like a mother to her and leant down to kiss her daughter's forehead, allowing herself to stroke the downy-curls one more time before slipping out into the hall. Meg had already put her own cloak on and held out a spare black one for Christine. Taking a deep, supposedly soothing, breath she pulled on the wrap before following her friend out the door to face the consequences of over seven months of secrets.

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"Right this way, ladies," The doctor from the previous night had clearly had a chance to go home and clean up because he looked rather too fresh for someone who'd been up at all hours. "The Vicomte is in one of the private rooms, we felt it was necessary, given his status, that we kept him off the ward."

Christine could feel her hands shaking as they turned the corner and it certainly didn't help to be in this clinical, white environment that had a strange smell which caused her nose to scrunch up. Her stomach was doing somersaults and she could feel perspiration start to form on her forehead. She and Meg hadn't spoken a word on the walk to the hospital, although they'd had to go painfully slow so that Christine didn't make her injury from the previous day any worse (in truth she shouldn't have been out of the house for a few days according to the doctor).

"Here you are," The man smiled at them both, gesturing to a door beside him. "Don't worry about visiting times – it doesn't matter so much off the wards. Just let me know when you're done." He mockingly wagged a finger a Christine. "And no more venturing out of the house after this if you want that nasty cut to heal."

Not much in the mood to smile, she merely moved to the door and let Meg give an apologetic look to the blanked man before shuffling in the direction of the door as well. The room was fairly bare, a couple of chairs in one corner were the only furniture in the room other than the hospital bed with its headboard pushed to the wall opposite the door. Raoul sat looking bored out of his mind until he heard the door open and Christine tried to smile weakly as his face lit up on the sight of her. She heard the door close and realized Meg must've left the two alone, out of thoughtfulness no doubt but with the additional chance she was chasing after the doctor (she'd been looking him up and down since they got here).

Slowly she moved to shift one of the chair next to the bed, her husband's hand grasping her's before she'd even sat down. She hoped he hadn't noticed it was clammy and cold, matching the feeling of her forehead. Christine felt as though she may vomit at any moment.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," Raoul cheerfully remarked, trying to catch her eye as he leant down to press a kiss to her knuckles. "It's been dull as anything sitting here all morning… Well, I say all morning, I didn't wake up till about an hour ago – I suppose I didn't have my beautiful early bird to wake me. Still, it's probably the last decent night's sleep I'll get for a while now we have our little one, huh?" He winked, flashing her that smile that didn't do anything to settle her nerves.

Christine's sour expression finally caught his attention and his brown creased. "Raoul…"

"Are you not well either, Christine?" He questioned, reaching his hand to feel her forehead and finding it damp and cool. "It's not after last night is it?"

"I'm not ill, Raoul," She spoke in a voice that was surprisingly composed. "I just need to get something off my chest." She felt his hand release her own and she brought herself to meet his gaze – he deserved that much. "The thing is… Well after all that happened at the Opera House-"

"If this is going to be about that gargoyle who attacked me last night then I don't want to discuss it," Raoul's voice was cold. "I mean, can you believe those Girys! Harbouring a criminal like that after everything he did to us all. Disgusting behavior."

"They mean no harm by it, Raoul-"

"It'll only lead to trouble keeping that man alive, you know. If I were Madame Giry I'd have handed him in to the police the moment he asked for help, I thought that woman had enough sense to do such a thing. That man needs to be punished."

"No!" His interruptions and ranting had hit a nerve with Christine. Her green eyes glared in his direction and Raoul looked at her with a confused expression.

"Oh come on, Christine, the man is a monster-"

"No, he is not – he's a man, just like you said." She spoke steadily and with an aloofness that caught her husband off guard. "It's true he's done some terrible, terrible things but he has been punished by the world every single day of his life, even as a child. People have never given him even an ounce of respect or human kindness, hell his own mother looked down her nose at him! But now he's learning to function normally again, he's beginning to understand what's appropriate in the world. He knows his actions were wrong – but that's his past."

Raoul was now looking at her through narrowed eyes. "I suppose these are the Girys' words reassuring you, but where's the proof Christine?"

"It's not just their words, I've seen it myself," She saw her husband visibly stiffen and the angry glint formed in his eyes but she had stay strong. "I saw him last night and he was not the man he had been, he was timid and gentle. It was almost like he couldn't hurt anyone even if he wanted-"

Raoul snorted (causing him to wince) and pointed to the bandage across his nose. "You mean the man who did this to me? And when did he do this again… Oh, that's right – last night. Christine he'll never change, he's not like you and I, he doesn't have morals or a sense of honour."

"That's not true!" She raised her voice, her eyes watering slightly. She cursed her hormones for letting her emotions run wild, she shouldn't have cared so much hearing Raoul talk like this. Sweet, loving Raoul who was now bad-mouthing the man that she… Could she really admit this?

"What's gotten into you?" He questioned, the anger now gone as he reached for her forehead again. "Are you sure you aren't ill, delusional even?"

"You presume because I disagree with you that I must be delusional?!" Christine knew she was getting worked up for no reason and her words had visibly hurt Raoul, who retracted his arm and gave her a worried glance.

"Of course not," He mumbled. "I just… I suppose we never really talked about him, after that night in the catacombs. I didn't realise you held these views back then-"

"I didn't," Christine cut in. "Or at least I didn't realise I did, until more recently." She was wringing her hands in her lap nervously and her bottom lip began to tremble. She had to do this: "I love him."

Awkward quiet followed the statement and Raoul's face remained frozen in a neutral expression for approximately ten seconds. It remained like this as he quietly asked: "I beg your pardon?"

Christine swallowed and folded her arms across her chest. "I love him. I was foolish not to notice it before, but-"

"No," Raoul cut in with a loud but calm word. She looked at her husband confused and was about to continue speaking when he held up a hand to her. "I don't want to hear your confusion. I want you to stop and then consider the magnitude of what you're about to say. This marriage can survive what you've just said, but only if we leave it at that. My reputation will be destroyed and I can't afford that. I need this marriage and, quite frankly, so do you"

Christine's cheeks were turning red as she got hot with anger. These weren't the words of the Raoul de Chagny she knew, this was a desperate man who knew his wife was turning from him and was clutching at anything to keep her on side. Sadly for him, blackmail wouldn't work.

"How dare you," She whispered. "How dare you say such a thing to me?"

"No, how dare you!" He bellowed, now clearly losing whatever composure he'd clung on to before. "How dare you mess me around like this. I won't have it, do you understand. I was taught that marriage is forever binding and I won't have you ruin that, I won't have your seduction of me lead to my downfall!" Christine was getting more and more worked up with every word; just a few more choice words and she may well explode. "I mean for God's sake, Christine, how do you manage to take our marriage vows so lightly? I mean, we've just had a child together-"

"She isn't yours!"

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Cliffhanger! I know you'll all hate me for that because I'm awful at updating but I'm not gonna lie I have no idea what I'm doing with this story anymore so we'll see, you might get lucky and have an update sooner than you might think since I'm on holiday!

I hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave a review, favourite or follow the story :)