The driver of their carriage eventually pulled in front of the same restaurant where they had dined the first evening they arrived. Christine suspected that he wished to remain inconspicuous and having eaten there before there might be less attention given to his mask.
As they had before, Erik requested a private booth to dine, and ordered the waiter to bring them a light repast of bread, cheese, fruit, and wine and asked that they be left in private for their meal. After having the afternoon away from Erik to think, the more she wanted to ask some very personal questions, but Erik was the first to question her.
"Mme. Daae, I have a proposition for you," he started.
"I think I've heard that somewhere before," Christine replied with a smirk.
Erik couldn't help but smile, "My original plan was for us to be away for one week. However, that would leave us with returning to Paris tomorrow. Are you ready to go back yet?" he asked.
Christine thought it over and said, "I don't think so. At least not until I can get a few answers from you concerning some incidentals that I think are necessary for us to continue with our," she paused looking for the correct term. Failing she added, "our arrangement. Not to mention an explanation as to why you are acting so strange today."
Erik squirmed briefly in his seat. He did not like the sound of this. "Alright, I suppose that's fair. Firstly to answer your second remark, I am attempting to correct what, so far, could be construed as the most improper beginnings to a relationship. Since I have known you, we have been on our own rules and terms and I did not wish to offend you or overstep my bounds as I courted you. I apologize if you found that strange. As to your first question, what do you want to know?"
Christine was relieved to hear him say that, "Good, I admit it's been strange all morning to see you act so as though we hardly know one another." Then hesitated and asked, "First of all, what is your real name?"
This was not a question Erik was expecting. "I told you, my name was taken accidentally. You may call me whatever you wish, but I suppose M. Erik Durand will suffice, unless you wish it to be something else."
"No, I think the name suits you well," she replied. "My next question is difficult to ask, but it must be done." She thought of a way to put it as delicately as possible. "What must I say to people who meet us in regards to your mask? Also, will people be meeting us in public or will you stay in hiding when we return?"
Erik had been expecting this question and was well prepared. "I do not plan on hiding the rest of my life away in the bowels of the opera. There is no need to say anything. What I wear over my face is my business and mine alone, although now I guess that extends to you as well. If people are so inept that they persist in badgering you on the subject, you may tell them that I am simply eccentric and I prefer to go unrecognized." He felt satisfied with his explanation, but saw that Christine had started to cross her arms across her chest and look at him as if to say it wasn't good enough.
"Erik, I might need to come up with something better than that. I'm afraid your explanation might only drive people's curiosity on the matter."
"I'm sorry if my excuse is not good enough to hold against the curious fools that pass you in the street. What do you care what they think anyhow?"
"I'm not speaking of 'curious fools' or 'strangers' Erik," Christine said roughly. "I'm speaking of my friends and the few people I hold dear to me. Or will I never be privileged to introduce you to them in person? They might think me mad if I go about saying I've entered an exclusive relationship with the infamous Opera Ghost!"
"Ha! Do you expect me to waltz up to the Vicompte de Chagny and shake his hand as you introduce me to him?" Erik laughed contemptuously.
"I was thinking more along the lines of Madame Giry and Meg, and possibly a few others whom I trust to be polite," Christine spat back. "It might be a little easier on me if I had a better reason to explain your mask than your being eccentric."
Erik obviously did not want to continue the conversation down the path it was heading, but Christine continued on.
"Erik," she said more gently, "I have to know. What happened to your face?"
Erik turned his head aside to look out the window and avoid her question, but trapped together in the tiny curtained room as they were, he knew he would have to answer her, sooner or later.
Christine softly said, "I don't mean to disrespect you or to pry, but it would be easier to know. Perhaps I can come up with a better phrase to use when preparing people to meet you so they are not quite so unsettled."
Erik, still not looking at Christine, stood and faced the panes beside the heavy curtains. He leaned his head briefly on the glass, his mask pressing against it on his forehead. He straightened and began quietly, "I was born this way."
Christine listened intently and did not interrupt him as he moved on with his story.
"I have worn a mask every day of my life, thanks to a most gracious mother who saw fit to cover my face to avoid looking at me. My scars are not scars, but simply deformities from infancy. As I grew they became more pronounced than they actually started out, but thankfully as I reached adulthood they did not continue to change and have remained the same since." Erik stopped and turned to look at Christine with tears starting to form in his eyes. "I have never spoken of this to anyone before. I only do so now at your request because I can deny you nothing. I only want for your happiness, but I cannot see how this," he gestured towards his face, "could ever make you happy. Along with what the mask hides come a lifetime of whispers and gossip and finally casting out."
Christine did not say anything, fearing whatever she reassured would not be enough to convince him.
"Christine," Erik choked out, voice cracking, "I'm so sorry. I cannot begin to tell you what last night meant to me. That you would agree to court me and allow me a chance, but," he paused, unable to say what she feared would come next. He knelt down to the floor in front of her and said, "But I cannot go through with it. I cannot subject you to the life I have had to live thus far and I know you deserve better than anything I could possibly offer."
Christine started to panic. "Erik, please don't say things like that. Everything will be just fine!"
"No," he managed to say, "It may be the death of me to do so, but," tears streamed down the sides of his face and dripped out from under his mask, "I release you of your agreement to me. When we return to Paris you will be free of me to see whomever you wish."
Christine swallowed a hard lump in her throat twice before she could speak. She reached and tightly gripped the sides of his head in her hands, looking deeply into his eyes. "Shouldn't that be my decision? What if I don't want to be released? It was only last night I agreed to let you court me and I meant it. Or do you think me so fickle as to change my mind in less than a day?"
Erik stared at her in disbelief. He reached up and removed her hands from his mask and held them in her lap, "I don't think you fickle, simply naïve. You have no idea what being with me will do to change your life."
Christine begged to differ; she already did know what it would change. She would be blissfully happy to be with him.
"I should have explained all this last night before you were final on your answer to me, but I selfishly wished for just one night to be happy and pretend this could all work out."
Christine thought quickly of something to say that would make him change his mind. She needed more time!
"Erik, my answer is no."
Erik looked puzzled. "No?"
"No, I'm not ready to return to Paris just yet. If it would be alright with you, I'd like to stay another week," she said quickly.
Erik looked away, then back at her, "Are you certain you wish this? After all, we could be back in no time and all this could be forgotten that much more quickly."
"No, Erik. I told you before and I'll tell you again, I am not changing my mind. I have not even had an entire day to call myself taken." She suddenly blushed by her absent minded choice of word. She had meant to say 'spoken for'.
Erik's mind reeled with a sudden rush of desire as a flash of fantasy stole across his mind that consisted of him truly taking her; all of her. Here she sat, insisting to be with him, practically begging him not to leave, when in his reality, it should have always been the other way around. He felt absolutely wretched. Here he was with everything he could have ever hoped or dreamed for happening before his eyes and his own skepticism was sabotaging his happiness. Another week with her here with no interruptions or interference other than his own pessimistic torture and there might be a chance to do this right. This morning he panicked as the sun rose in the sky over the oceans waters as he recalled the days and knew he only had one day to spend with Christine, certain that once they returned to the opera, everything would crumble apart, and despite her promise to him, Raoul would somehow steal her back with that sickeningly perfect smile of his.
He silently thanked whatever God looked over him that day and kissed Christine's hands between his own.
"Thank you Christine. You must forgive me for being me sometimes. I am not accustomed to good things happening to me and when they do, I tend to doubt them."
Christine relaxed, "I understand."
Erik stood, his knees creaking slightly from kneeling for so long. "Christine," he started.
"Oh, so it's no longer Mademoise Daae?" Christine playfully said trying to lighten the mood.
Erik smiled, "I promise, no more of that. Christine," he asked again, "May I hold you?"
The simple innocence of the request squeezed Christine's heart. She could hear the difference in his voice now. Instead of hearing fear of rejection, she heard him asking for something he knew she would give.
"Yes," she said and stood to envelop herself in his arms.
As he wound them tighter around her, pulling her closer to him he said, "I'm beginning to love that word."