a/n At this point, the rating change is just to be safe.
CHAPTER 5—PRÉLUDE À ADIEU
October 1879
The cemetery was quiet, and Jacqueline sat on a bench, stroking Nadine's long hair. The four year old rested her head against her mother's shoulder.
"What was she like?"
Nadine's clear voice cut into Jacqueline's thoughts and startled her a bit. Jacqueline considered her answer carefully. "I don't know. I never met her."
"Does papa miss her?"
"I think so, sometimes."
"If you were gone, I would miss you very much." Nadine turned her head and stared at Erik, who was kneeling next to a white headstone, rearranging the flowers he had just placed there. "Was she pretty?"
"She was very pretty." Jacqueline rested her cheek against Nadine's head. "But not as pretty as you."
Nadine giggled, suddenly a child again, and she waved at her papa as he made his slow way back toward them. When he reached them, he sat down next to his wife, resting his cane next to him on the bench. Nadine clambered out of Jacqueline's lap and into Erik's. He welcomed her with open arms. The trio sat for a long time, until the breeze picked up a bit, blowing more leaves from the trees and around their feet.
"We should go before it rains," Erik said. "Hop down, love."
Sliding down, Nadine stood primly as her mother rose to take her hand. Slowly, a bit painfully, Erik got to his feet and grimaced slightly.
"You shouldn't walk on it so much," Jacqueline said softly as they made their way back to where the driver waited with the carriage. "It only makes it worse."
"Gets stiff," Erik grunted, watching Nadine hop back into the carriage. Jacqueline rolled her eyes and climbed in after her, then turned to hold out a hand to Erik, who took it gratefully as he pulled himself in.
The door closed behind him, and Nadine looked out over the graves as they passed.
"Are they all somebody's mama?" she asked.
Erik blinked, but it was Jacqueline who answered.
"Some are. Some are papas, some are sons and daughters. Some lived alone." She brushed a stray curl from Nadine's face. "They're all together now, with Jesus."
Erik was constantly amazed by the level of thought at which Nadine operated. She was highly intelligent for her age, and as he looked back out toward his mother's grave, he was reminded of himself at her age.
The next day proved to be a rainy one. Nadine was playing with dolls in her room, as childish as ever she had been, and as Erik walked down the hallway, he glanced in rooms for Jacqueline. He found her sitting in the parlor with an untouched cup of tea, her hands folded primly while she stared out the window. Drops of rain slid down the glass and down onto the ground below.
Sitting down next to his wife, Erik stared at her for a moment before speaking. "You look very pensive today," he said softly. "What's on your mind?"
"I was just thinking about something Nadine said yesterday, in the cemetery." Her eyes still stared forward, but Erik could see the lack of focus. "She said if I were gone, she would miss me."
"You're not gone, though, you're here with me."
"Am I?" Jacqueline smiled, still staring at nothing.
Erik felt a slight jolt in his stomach, and he assumed that it had something to do with the dreamy tone Jacqueline had adopted. "Jacqueline?"
She blinked, and her gaze shifted to meet his. Her eyes looked into his, and there was something written on her face. Erik found himself shaking his head, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.
She smiled sadly. "You can't stop it from happening, Erik, no matter how hard you try."
The tears formed without his consent, and Jacqueline reached up to remove his mask, running her hands over his face. He leaned into her hand. "They said it was nothing to worry about."
"They were wrong." Tears were in her eyes, too. "Doctors are wrong all the time."
"How long?"
"Six months." All her breath left her in a rush. "Maybe more, maybe less. They're not sure." Her tears were now running down her face, and she curled onto his side, resting her head in his lap.
Later, Erik found himself staring down at his wife. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, her breasts rising and falling. Erik ran his fingers through her long tresses before carefully climbing out of bed. Walking slowly to his drafting desk, he removed charcoal and paper before setting a chair in front of Jacqueline. He wanted to remember her, just this way, forever. He wanted to remember the curve of her body, the peacefulness in her face, her utter beauty as she slept, unaware of her husband's gaze and not thinking of what time she had left.
His hands moved across the paper, sketching her perfect body. He paused at her belly when she heaved a sigh, but when she did not wake, he continued. The sheet was bunched at her waist, and he could just make out the line of her hips. When he had finished, once she was immortalized on paper, he climbed back into bed.
Her sleepy eyes opened and she smiled up at him. "Nadine will wonder where we are."
"She'll be fine." Erik took her hand and gently tugged her closer. They were quiet for a long time, and Erik was beginning to think she had fallen asleep until she spoke softly.
"When should we tell her?"
Heaving a sigh, Erik rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "We can't hold off too long, or she'll figure it out for herself."
Her tears fell onto his chest. "What if she never forgives me?"
"She will."
"Did you forgive your mother?"
"Eventually." Kissing her tears away, Erik touched her breast softly, as if he held her too roughly, she would fall apart in his arms. "But that was different."
"Promise you won't let her forget me."
"I swear, she will never forget you as long as I have breath in my body."
They made love again, as if it were the first time and the last time, and afterwards, neither slept, not wanting to let each other go just yet.
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Even with her eyes closed, Christine could still hear the patter of rain on the window. She drew the covers a bit tighter around her and opened her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of Emma, curled up facing her, still sleeping, unaware of the world around her and of her mother's loving gaze.
The last night's thunder storm had come with Emma's presence, frightened of the noise and flashing lightning. Christine had welcomed her daughter, and Emma had climbed into the spot once occupied by Raoul, her warm little body snuggling up to her mother's. Now, hours later, her curly brown hair was a mess and her mouth hung open slightly, and Christine was able to stare down at the perfection she and Raoul had created from their love.
She was a perfect miniature of Christine, except for her ears. Her eyes were the same chocolate brown, her face curved with the same delicate features. Her nose was a small version of Christine's, and her face was the same. Reaching out, Christine toyed with one of Emma's curls for a moment before climbing out of bed and tucking the covers around her daughter.
As she turned to go, Christine's eyes landed on an envelope which contained the letter she had received yesterday. She heaved a heavy sigh before opening it and reading it again, as if more times would make it less true.
The letter still in her hands, Christine stared at Emma again for a long time, and she felt the sharp stab of pain that she had felt ever since Raoul's death stronger than ever. She could feel Jacqueline's agony across the miles and the bustling city that separated them. As she was an investor in Jacqueline's new shop that she had opened the year before, Jacqueline had written that she felt obligated to tell Christine of the illness that had befallen her. A cancer had settled into her, and there was nothing to be done about it. She had been told previously that it was nothing. She had been told she had no more than six months left on earth...
Folding the letter, Christine put it back in the envelope and quietly placed it in a drawer. Before she left, she placed a gentle kiss on Emma's forehead. Then, she made her way out of the master suite and down the stairs for a cup of coffee.
Later that day, once Emma had awoken, Christine sat in the music room surrounded by volumes of Mozart, flipping through for a theme and variation on piano that she had wanted to learn. After a while, she gave up, and began to put the volumes back, one by one, until the room was returned to its normal pristine state.
A sigh escaped Christine's lips as she looked around. She was quite lucky that, after Emma's birth, Raoul had quietly, and without the knowledge of his family, rewritten his will. Most everything had gone to Christine. A trust fund and dowry had been set up for Emma. Both of their houses had been transferred to Christine's name, and Luc had been appointed the executor of Raoul's will. Upon finding that her son had left nothing for the family that had shunted his wife for so many years, his mother had turned cold toward Christine. Christine, for her part, felt the family were being insane to expect Raoul to give all his earned money to his family and leave his wife and daughter with nothing. Furious, Christine had sold the house in Rouen, which had been a give to Raoul and Christine and which held nothing but painful memories.
After distancing herself from the Chagny family, Christine had, with Luc's help, begun investing portions of her inheritance in various stocks and businesses. One of them had been Jacqueline Laroche's new shop, which was now thriving. A large amount of money remained in the bank, untouched and earning interest, but there was a steady source of income now, and Luc assured her that she was set for the rest of her life.
A soft knock on the door alerted Christine to the presence of her maid.
"Madame Cartier is in the entrance hall for you, madame."
Christine rushed past her maid and down the stairs to find Meg, her arms wrapped around herself, looking as if she had not slept. She knew Jacqueline would have alerted Meg to the situation. She also knew that Jacqueline had become as close a friend to Meg as Christine.
"God, Meg, you're soaked." Christine helped her friend out of her wet cloak. "You didn't walk here, did you?"
Meg shook her head, shivering, but she did not speak. The maid appeared again. "The fire's been lit in the parlor. Shall I bring some blankets and tea?"
Christine smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Amy, that would be quite welcome." Turning back to Meg, she wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her into the parlor, where a warm glow came from the fire.
Once Meg had stopped shivering and had been wrapped in blankets by Christine and Amy, and once she had been sipping tea for a bit, she finally spoke.
"Jacqueline came to see me this morning," she said softly. "She said she'd written you."
Christine squeezed Meg's hand. "I'm so sorry, Meg." She scooted closer on the divan. "You must be feeling terrible."
Her friend nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, and a small laugh escaped from her lips. "She told me I'm not allowed to cry. She said she's had a good life, and she's made her mark on the world." She rubbed her face, sighing heavily. "Said everyone has to go sometime, but I know she's scared. She's afraid Nadine will forget her."
Christine shook her head. "She won't be able to. Erik won't let her."
"She said that's what he told her."
"It's true."
"He's a good father," Meg said softly. "I suppose that's a good deal of comfort to her."
"I suppose." Christine sipped her tea before she spoke again. "I bought a house in Marseille."
This announcement did not seem to surprise Meg in the slightest. "Right on the sea, I assume."
"Would you expect anything else of me?" Taking another sip of her tea, Christine smiled at Meg. "You know it's my favorite place to be. In any case, I won't be leaving just yet. I have to order furniture, and I don't want to leave Paris until you're ready for me to."
"Until after Jacqueline is gone, you mean."
Christine stared into her tea. "Yes, I suppose that is what I mean. I don't want you to be alone. I know you have Luc, but you cannot surpass the understanding of a women."
Meg smiled gratefully, and they continued to sip their tea in silence.
a/n I am very sorry, already, to see that Jacqueline is going to go. I have a plan, though, so don't hate me yet. As I said earlier, the rating change is (for now) for safety, but it's coming sooner or later, so I figured do it now. If you know me, you know I like me some boom boom. Leave me some lovin'!
