Dear Journal,

I have gone to see Raoul. I imagine the act will have stirred up quite a bit of trouble that will all come back to me eventually--but I am not going to dwell on that just yet. I truly feel it was the right thing to do. I needed to find out what happened in that cellar.

Raoul was sitting in his bed with the morning paper when he heard voices outside the door. He looked up with mild disinterest, trying to hear what was being said about him.

"Now remember, Madame," said the doctor, "It's not just the injuries we had to deal with. He also developed a bad case of pneumonia from his ordeal. We almost lost him a couple of times. Even now, you'll not find him quite up to his usual self. He is still weak and he tires easily. I will allow you to go in for a few minutes, but you must not tax him overmuch. Do you understand?"

Raoul listened for the response, wondering what woman had come to visit him. Perhaps one of his sisters?

"Yes, sir," replied the voice.

Two words were all he needed. He would recognize that voice anywhere. It was not his sister, it was Christine!

"Christine!" he called out as the door to his room cracked open.

Christine winced slightly. After the doctor's lecture about not upsetting or exciting him, she managed to do so in the first five seconds of her visit.

"I'm here, Raoul. Right here," she soothed, taking hold of his hand while attempting to adjust the seat by his bedside. Raoul was having none of that, though, and he yanked on her hand, pulling her down into his lap where he proceeded to envelop her in a huge bear hug.

"Oh Christine," he murmured against her hair, "you are safe. I am so glad you are safe."

I also had a decision to make.

"Raoul, we really need to talk." Christine said gently as she pulled herself back into her chair. She did continue to hold his hand, however, a gesture that they both found comforting. "What happened to you after that night?"

He sighed, not overly excited about reliving the experience yet again. All he wanted to do was take Christine away and forget this nightmare. Still, he knew her well enough to realize that she needed answers before they could proceed.

"Tell me what you remember first, then I'll fill in the blanks," he offered.

"Well, there's not much to tell, really. I thought I had convinced him to free you. That's what he led me to believe, at any rate. I was in the room long enough to see you lying, unconscious, on the floor. He checked you and told me that you would live. Then he took you out of the room."

Raoul nodded, he expected as much. "I remember fighting the water and then everything went black. When I woke, I was locked up in a cell. Other than that, I don't know my location. Occasionally he would come down and bring me small amounts of food and ridicule me. In retrospect, I see now what he was doing… none of the beatings he gave me were unprovoked, you see, but he would taunt me with you and strike me when I reacted. It was and odd thing, really… it was as if he was looking for an excuse rather than just attacking me for its own sake."

"It's his conscience," Christine replied softly, her eyes fixed on her hands, "He's just realized he has one… he's trying to listen to it…"

Christine was speaking more to herself than to anyone else, but Raoul heard her nonetheless. Incredulous, he exclaimed, "Christine! You cannot be seriously defending that monster!"

"He isn't a monster!" Christine bit back, the venom evident in her deceptively soft voice.

"What has he done to you?" Raoul breathed. He looked down at the ring that she was unconsciously twisting around her finger. "You married him, didn't you?"

As Christine looked up into his eyes, she forced all emotion from her face. She refused to apologize; she had nothing to be ashamed of.

"I did." she answered simply with a hint of defiance in her set jaw.

"The bastard!" Raoul hissed, "I'll kill him."

Raoul's eyes flashed with more emotion than Christine had ever seen in her dearest friend. Until now, she had only seen Erik show such passion in his anger. That same maddened look on Raoul unnerved her.

"Has he touched you?" He asked urgently, grabbing her wrists tightly and pulling her closer. He searched her eyes frantically as if to assure himself she was real… still his little Christine.

"That's none of your business!" Christine cried, appalled. She jerked her hands away and stood up.

"It damned well is!"

Then, seeing Christine's startled expression, he calmed slightly.

In a softer tone, he added, "Christine, listen to me. You don't have to go on like this. I'm here now. I will call on some of my contacts and get this marriage annulled. You were forced and no one in their right mind would hold you to it… I'll take care of it, Christine… the Church will annul it and it'll be like it never happened."

Was it a tough decision? I suppose it would have been if I had gotten emotional about it. In reality, though, it wasn't much of a choice. I made a promise and that's that.

"I can't Raoul…"

"What do you mean? Why the hell not?"

"I made a promise. I'm sick of lying, Raoul… I'm sick of the deception and the manipulation. I promised to be his wife. I made the promise in front of a priest… I just can't pretend like it never happened."

"Don't you love me?" he asked helplessly.

"You know I do, Raoul… but that's not the point."

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it was difficult--perhaps not the decision, but the implementation. I still love Raoul very much. You'd think that, having so much practice in rejecting him, I would be getting used to it! It's been quite the opposite I'm afraid; it hurts more each time I've tried to say goodbye to him.

"Do you love him?" Raoul asked, though he was terrified of the answer.

"That doesn't matter. Don't you see? This isn't about feelings… it's about honor… about me being a trustworthy person. What kind of woman would I be if I ran off and broke my word whenever it suits me better?"

"You make it sound so simple… this isn't about what dress you're going to wear or who you're going with to a ball. This is about the rest of your life, Christine!"

I just wish he'd accept it. Doesn't he realize how hard this is on all of us?

"Don't you think I know that? Do you think you're the only one having a hard time?"

"I don't accept this, Christine. He has brainwashed you… he's turned you against me. I won't hear anymore of this nonsense. You are not going back to him. Do you hear me, Christine? He will not control you any more."


I suppose I should be grateful that he is so determined to protect me. I know that he will not give up if he thinks Erik is forcing or manipulating me.

"Is that what you think? That I've been hypnotized by him? That I am not capable of making my own decision?"

"What else can I think? You're speaking madness! No. It is settled. You will stay here until I am well enough to travel. You will be under my protection… I shall have guards posted at every entrance. And, if he comes here, I will kill him! You are sweet and innocent, Christine. You cannot see that he is manipulating you. I will not allow it."


Is he forcing me? I'm not exactly sure. But that does not matter. What matters is that Raoul thinks it is my decision alone.

Christine shook her head sadly. Why was he so persistent? Why could he just not accept the inevitable?

"No, Raoul. I cannot let you do that. You have already suffered too much for me."

"I would fight a thousand dragons for you!"

"I know you would. But I am asking you not to. I know it is hard, but I'm asking you to let go."

"Never!" Raoul cried, lunging out of the bed to grab hold of her arms tightly. He shook her and tears streamed out of his eyes.

The doctor had heard enough commotion and came barging in.

"That is enough, Madame!" he said harshly. "I will not have you upsetting my patient. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

No, that is not true. It does matter. I've been telling myself that it doesn't for a long time. But, somehow, putting it in writing makes the denial seem a little more real.

Christine nodded. They all needed time to cool down. There was nothing more she could say to Raoul about this. She turned to leave, but Raoul would not relinquish his grip on her arms. She winced slightly; even in his infirmity, he was clutching her tightly enough to leave little bruises later.

Raoul brought up a lot of questions that I'd previously been avoiding. As much as my mind accuses Erik of maneuvering around difficult topics, I am guilty of the same--just not quite so blatant about it.

So, back to my question: am I with Erik of my own free will? Is it cheating to answer 'yes and no'? He is not the husband I'd always imagined, and I do believe that I would not have married him if I had been given a real choice in the matter.

But, things have changed between us since then. I am beginning to see those hidden facets of Erik that change my perspective on him. In short, I am starting to understand why he does some of the things he does. What's more is that, the more I learn about him, the more I want to know. Heaven help me, but the man intrigues me!

Erik emerged from his music room looking tired and disheveled. After his burst of creative energy, he was exhausted and feeling the sudden need to hold his wife. The emotional let down as he came from the high of his obsessive spurts always left him needy for company. In the past, the unresolved feeling would leave him angry and cantankerous. This time, though, he actually had someone to turn to. Even in his fatigue, he was delighted at the prospect.

"Christine!" he bellowed after finding the first couple of rooms empty. Where was she anyway? Wasn't she supposed to stay near him?

He saw a shadow emerging from down the hall and it did not take him long to realize the tall form was not his wife. Having shed his jacket long ago, Erik cursed that he didn't have his lasso.

No matter, he thought, I can always kill him with my bare hands. His fingers flexed a bit.

The form put both hands up submissively. "Stand down, Erik," a voice said, "It's me."

"Do you think that matters? Where is my wife, Persian? Give her to me now or I will not hesitate to kill you."

"I have no doubt of it, friend, but I'm afraid I cannot deliver. She has gone out briefly. I am here, though, to talk some sense into you before you go tearing about Paris to find her."

"She left me?" Erik growled, though the pain was evident in his voice. "I leave her alone to compose for a few hours and she left me!"

"A few hours?" The Persian asked incredulously. "You have been absorbed for over two weeks!"

"Two weeks…" he whispered, running a hand through his sparse hair.

"You never told her the truth about her vicomte, did you Erik?"

"What are you implying?"

"You didn't think she'd continue like this… Christine may be innocent but she is not stupid. That girl is stronger than you realize. You refused to talk with her and so she went to seek answers herself. If she returns, you consider yourself lucky. If not, you can live knowing it is your own fault for not being honest with her."

Erik seethed at his friend's accusations. "She will return," he vowed, "because I will bring her back. And you better pray for mercy on this wretched city if I cannot find her. If I do not have my wife returned to me before the night is up, you have not even begun to see what Erik is capable of."

Even his threats are beginning to make sense. He's still so very insecure about my devotion towards him. He's afraid that I will abandon him. Maybe it is because he knows that I do not love him. I see that, when he begins to feel his control slipping, he lashes out with threats and harsh words. He has issues with control.

Erik has not had much cause to trust people. I am ashamed to admit that, in the past, my actions have done nothing to boost his confidence in humanity. However, I wish to rectify that now. I have to believe that neither Erik nor myself is beyond redemption.

And so, there it is--I may not have chosen Erik of my own free will, but if he were to release me today, I'm not certain I would leave so readily and I am positive I would not abandon him the way Raoul is suggesting!

I might not love my husband, but I am devoted to him. I have to be. I made a promise.

But, I am beginning to think there may be more than that. Raoul wants me to run away with him and never see Erik again. I know it would kill him if I did that. Beyond that though… beyond the guilt and betrayal and fear that he would seek me out, there is something else. Something tells me that, if I parted from Erik, I would lose a bit of myself as well. That thought unsettles me to no end.

This was getting nowhere. Raoul was becoming more agitated by the minute, he seemed to have trouble breathing and the doctor was glaring daggers at her for the disruption. She had to do something.

Sighing resignedly, she said, "What do I have to do to convince you that this is my decision?"

"Stay with me!" Raoul said without hesitation, "Not forever, just tonight. I'll have one of the servants make up a room for you. Stay away from him just long enough that he is no longer controlling your mind. If, tomorrow, you still wish to return, I will know that it is your words you are speaking and not his. Will you do this? Will you stay away from him tonight?"

Christine blanched a bit. She was absolutely torn. On the one hand, she knew Raoul wouldn't accept her rejection otherwise. On the other hand, she knew she was taking a risk just coming here in the first place. Still, Erik hadn't spoken more than a few words to her in the last two weeks. It was unlikely he would even realize she was gone. One night couldn't hurt, could it? She would return first thing in the morning.

"Alright," she agreed, "Just for tonight, though. Do you understand? This will not change anything."

Raoul seemed relieved. She would see, a few hours away from him would help clear her mind. Then she will realize the irrationality of her decision.

I am getting the distinct impression that I have made a mistake by agreeing to stay here tonight. Call it a premonition, but I feel like this will not end well.

I can't do it. It is wrong for me to stay here when I have a husband. It is betrayal in its very definition.

You know, I did not exactly promise to stay here tonight---just that I'd stay away. It's settled then, I need to leave. I'm going to Mamma's house. I can sleep there tonight and hopefully she'll help me sort out my feelings. Addled as she is, Mamma has always been able to help me. Matters of the heart seem to be her specialty.

Goodnight then, dear journal. I am going out.

Christine