A/N: Thank you for the reviews. I was tempted to leave this chapter for a couple of days, but I'm not that cruel.
This is the final chapter, it is the end… after over a year, I have finally completed it. It's been hard work and I can only give my true thanks to those of you that stuck with it and in particular the ones who kept waiting, despite my long absence.
The reviews mean the most, I think, but seeing so many hits per chapter certainly lifts a persons spirit. If you're an anonymous reviewer, I unfortunately, cannot reply to your review personally- though I would like to- accept my thanks anyway!
Those of you with accounts, expect a response within the next few days.
Chapter 64- Eternity
The morning had past her by quickly but now she was done and standing alone in her bedroom, which was stripped of her few belongings. In spite of Raoul's protests, she had insisted on paying her own way in terms of clothing and so far she had saved very little. It was fortunate that she had, she would only feel worse had she taken him up on his kind offer.
She lifted her small bag from the floor and took another long gaze out of her window, watching what she knew she would never see again, and feeling sad at the thought that it's beauty would forever be lost to her.
The door clicked shut behind her and the maid politely asked if she needed some help with her bag. Christine simply smiled and insisted that the maid take the rest of the day off, she neglected to mention that she would not be there the next day, when the maid returned.
Each solid wood step on the grand staircase creaked under foot as she descended into the huge marble lobby. The building was over one hundred years old, had been in the De Chagny family since it was built, and Christine had not doubt that so long as the De Chagny name lived, then so would this house.
She could hear Raoul's soft voice in the parlour to the left and she closed her eyes, thinking of all the hurt she would cause but also thinking of all the pain she was in. Christine had never denied being selfish and this was one time when, though selfishness was there, she had also considered Raoul in her decision.
It must have been difficult for Raoul, she knew, watching his fiancée mourn the loss of another man. She had tried to be private, she had tried not to show her grief but she knew that it must have shown. Now the emotion would only show more and it was unfair for her to continue the charade that she could make a life with Raoul.
Too much water had past under the bridge, too much pain and heartache for them both.
Part of her wished that she was staying.
She would miss Raoul dearly and his memory would, no doubt, serve her well in pursuit of a life of her own. The truth was that she needed to be herself and with Raoul, she would never truly be the scruffy daughter of the poor, yet talented violinist, who had clumsily lost her scarf in the Spanish waters. She wanted to be that person again, though frightened, fiercely independent and strong, because she needed to be and because she wanted to be.
She was proud of her origins, she was proud of her family… she was proud that she had been poor.
Being part of the aristocracy would never suit her and living a lie with Raoul would only break his heart eventually. Best that this was the way it was.
Quietly she placed her bag on the floor in the lobby and she walked into the parlour. Therein, she found Raoul sipping coffee and leaning against the hearth, talking to one of his many sporting friends. Both men turned to her and smiled warmly.
Raoul was first to speak, his voice full of light and air, the things that Christine felt she had lost in herself, 'Darling, you're up,'
She nodded and as she did, she saw the smile fade quickly from her fiancés sweet and kind face.
'Trevor,' he said, to his friend. 'Would you give us a moment, please?'
Trevor looked from his friend to Christine and then back again, as if he understood. He nodded his head, bid Christine a good day, and left the room, being sure to close the door behind him.
'What's wrong?' he asked, when he knew that Trevor was out of earshot.
She stared at him and felt all of the last year build up within her, all of the hurt and the pain, the anguish and heartache. She could almost feel Raoul's lips on hers, just by looking at him, and she knew for a brief time she would miss his lips and for a long time after she would miss his softness.
Before she knew it, she felt hot tears burn her eyes and trickle slowly down both of her cheeks. Raoul's face had turned from happy to concerned, to utterly, and heartbreakingly, sorrowful.
'Christine,' he said, his voice soft as he stepped forward. Something made him stop though, and he never made it to her, to wrap her up in his strong and protective arms.
Arms that she would never feel again.
She was glad when he stayed still, she wasn't sure she could ever go if she was curled up in his warm embrace. After a moment of silent tears she walked to him, pressed her lips to his cheek and whispered, 'I'm so sorry,'
When she turned and walked away, he did not try to stop her, he did not call her name and he did not ask why. It was as if the last few months had taught him the inevitable, that one day she would be gone. She had tried her best, but her anguish had been so great that she could barely hide it at all.
Raoul had patiently waited for her and, in years to come, she would often wonder why he had done that.
She lifted her bag as she moved through the lobby and wandered out of the front door and onto the courtyard. The carriage she had arranged was waiting for her and as she approached, the driver stepped down and opened the door for her. She got in, instructed the driver, and they moved away from the house.
She did not look back.
She did not see Raoul staring at her, watching her leave with tears in her eyes.
She would never know the pain she had caused him when she walked from his life and he would never get the chance to tell her the joy she had given him while she had been a part of it
The sun was violently hot and, though a soft breeze came into the carriage, Christine could barely wait for her long journey to be over. She had stopped in briefly at the Giry residence on her way.
Madame Giry had greeted her with possibly the most regretful smile she had ever seen. The ballet mistress' hold when she hugged her had been tight, firm and loving. Meg, too, had held her as if they knew it was the last they were likely to see her.
Laurent was the only one not to express himself by pulling her into his arms and she was quietly glad of his restraint, though she saw in his eyes that he wanted to. After a brief and vague conversation with each of them, she had settled herself back into the carriage and prepared herself to her journey.
It was nearly three hours later, many miles south of Paris, when the small farm she was looking for finally came into view. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, yet the evening was still bright and beautiful.
Her heart ached as she thought of Raoul and the things she had left behind but she knew, now, that she could have no regrets.
'Is that the place, mademoiselle?' the driver asked, over his shoulder.
'That's it,' she said, but didn't know why she was so sure.
As they got closer she saw the cottage and immediately fell in love with it. It's quiet beauty amazed her and she felt, for the first time in a long while, happy. This was her new home and she was both excited and worried all at the same time. It was difficult to break free from something you had slowly become used to but Christine knew that now it was time.
When they arrived at the gate, she climbed out without waiting for the driver to open the door, and she paid him generously for his troubles. He smiled politely and before she had turned her back he was off into the distance, seemingly without a care in the world.
She walked along the gravel path, feeling it crunching beneath her feet. Oddly, the front door was open when she approached it but when she walked in she saw not a sign of anyone.
Placing her bag near to the door, where she knew she could find it, she wandered slowly around the house. She took in the smell of its freshness, the smell of its freedom. She roamed through the hallway, looking around her, and then entered a large kitchen with a dark slate floor and a long, old dining table in the centre. The oven was bubbling and she could hear a woman speaking in the garden, which was out of the door at the end of the kitchen.
Crushing her nerves down she walked out through the back door and glanced right, then left. On her left she saw a young couple, a little older than herself, talking as the man tended the flowers in the corner of the garden. The man said something and the woman giggled.
Christine was about to speak to them when she saw something in the corner of her eye that caught her attention. It was what she was looking for and immediately forgot about the young owners of the cottage. She walked across the jade grass, so bright under the slowly falling evening sun, and finally found her way to the old fence that surrounded the property.
'Thank you for the message,' she said, softly.
He turned around. 'You're welcome,'
'You don't seem surprised to see me,'
'I am surprised,'
'You don't seem it,'
'Well,' he said. 'I am,'
They stood there looking at each other for a moment.
'I didn't expect to see you again,' he explained, his eyes on her.
'But you gave Laurent directions and instructions,' she said.
'I did,'
'Why?' she asked. 'If you didn't expect me to come,'
He turned his face away, so that his white mask glimmered under the dazzling rays of the sun, and looked off into the distance. Instead of answering her question, Erik said, 'Have you met Charles and Marianne yet?'
She glanced back over her shoulder at the couple in the garden. 'No,'
'I'll introduce you,' he said, and then, turning to her, 'Later,'
'Why give him the directions?'
He sighed. 'Through my despair I found hope,'
'You hoped that I would come?'
'Same as always,' he answered softly.
She laughed and leaned against the fence, not caring that her dress might muddy or tear, not caring about anything at all really. 'The message was harsh,'
'It would hardly have been appropriate for me to say; Erik is alive and well and staying at a farm three hours south of Paris, would it?' his tone was light, like she had never heard it before. 'Besides,' he continued. 'It got to you, didn't it?'
Silence filled the air between them as she stood, looking into his blue eyes and wondering what she would have done if he had not survived.
This had never been the plan though, she never intended to do this.
'I nearly didn't leave the message,'
'It took you long enough,' she said, with a smile.
'It took me long enough to heal,' he explained. 'And then… I couldn't decide,'
'But you did,'
'You asked me to,'
That day in the barn, when Erik had been lying on the floor, a bullet wound through his middle and blood pooling around the injury, he had told her he loved her. For the first time since she had known him, through her grief, she had come to understand her feelings for him too. When she had kissed him, she had whispered, 'When you're well, find a way to let me know it,'
It was optimistic and at the time she thought she was simply giving him an easier way to die. To see him again, alive and seemingly well, made her heart swell like it never had before.
She stepped closer to him. 'I'm glad you're alright,' she whispered.
'I wanted to die,' he said.
'Why?'
He smiled but didn't reply, instead he said, 'I'm glad you came,'
She swallowed hard. 'I'm glad I came too,'
His eyes clouded for a moment as he asked, 'What of Raoul?'
'I didn't tell him anything,' she replied. 'But he knows I'm not going back,'
'Do you think he knows?'
She thought for a moment. 'I do,'
'And he will just accept that?'
'If he is half the man that you are then yes, eventually, he will accept that,'
Erik stood from the fence and looked down at her. 'Let me introduce you to my cousins,'
Christine's giggle surprised herself.
'What is it?' he asked, looking confused.
'Its hard to imagine you with family… this all feels so normal,'
Erik smiled. 'I am a man, you know?'
'I know,' she smiled back.
As he moved away she felt her heart climb to her throat, 'Erik,' she said and then held her breath.
He turned to face her again, 'Yes, Christine?'
She closed her eyes, opening them again to be met by piercing blue, she took a breath and said the words she had waited five long months to say. Words she had hoped would someday find their way from her lips to Erik, words that were so long hidden, so long almost lost, words she could never forgot… words she could not mean more,
'I love you,' she whispered.
When his lips touched hers she felt a shiver race along her spine, his arm encircled her waist, his strength pulled her close. Never before had she felt so safe and so at home, so loved and so warm.
With one last squeeze he moved away, placing a kiss on her forehead and taking in the scent of her hair as he did. 'I never thought I'd see you again,'
'Well you have,' she said, softly. 'And you will see a lot more of me,'
He looked down at his hands.
She could see the concern in his eyes as he looked back up, 'I'll never leave, Erik,' she assured him, feeling her heart skip a beat as he reached out and touched her face with his hand, 'I'll never leave,'
When he didn't answer, she said, 'Please tell me nothings changed,' a fear gripped her chest. 'Tell me you still love me… even after all…'
She was quieted by his fingertips on her lips, 'Shh,' he whispered, 'Je vous aimerai toujours,'
A/N: Thank you again. I'd really appreciate reviews here... This is really the end!
Translation below.
I will love you, always,