When I awoke the next morning I was alone once more. I still felt the effects of the illness that I had caught. My entire body was sore and I was weak and tired. I cursed my body for betraying me like this. To show this weakness, this vulnerability, to Christine was unbearable.

There was a little tap on the door before it swung open and my nurse walked in. She gave me a bright smile. "Good morning, Erik," she said and I just glowered at her.

She ignored my look and set a tray of food on the bed next to me. "Here you are," she said. "I fixed regular tea today, so I hope it is better than my attempt at Russian tea!"

Apparently she was determined to be cheerful. I sighed. "Thank you," I said tonelessly.

Christine's bright smile faltered for a second. "You are welcome. Do you need anything else?"

"Nothing you can give me, I fear," I said with another sigh.

She gave me an assessing look and started to say something. Then she looked away. "I will check back in a while," she said finally and turned and left the room.

"Christine, wait," I said suddenly.

Christine turned, an eager look on her face. "Yes?"

"My mask...Will you bring it to me?" I asked awkwardly. I hated facing her without it.

Her eager expression fell. "Certainly," she replied and walked out of the room. She returned a moment later with the mask in her hand.

"Here," she said, her voice sharp. "Take it. Hide behind it if that is what makes you happy." She dropped the mask onto the bed and stalked out of the room, shutting the door with a bang.

I stared at the closed door behind which she had just disappeared. What on earth was that all about? I wondered, shaking my head.

I felt like my emotions were having a battle. Part of me was suspicious of her. She had returned to me, and yet she had returned to me several times before, only to go to back to Raoul. She was here, caring for me, and yet I knew of her incredible sympathy, her amazing sense of caring and responsibility. And I also knew how incredibly guilty her conscience was.

The other part of me was filled with an emotion that was little known to me. Hope. I could not help but have a little glimmer of hope that all I had felt from her while we sang our duet in Don Juan Triumphant was not an act. I did not want to believe that the emotions that had poured from her as she kissed me were false. I did not want to believe her capable of such deception, and yet I could not trust her.

Too many times before in my life I had given my trust, only to have it shattered like a dropped glass.

While I had planned my revenge I had told myself that I would not let her hurt me again. While I picked out the wedding dress and decided that I would make her mine no matter what the cost, I had not cared if she got hurt. Like a wounded animal I had snapped at the thing that was hurting me.

Uncomfortably I remembered trying to force her to stay with me by using the Vicomte as leverage. I had known that Christine's heart would not allow her to let the Vicomte die just so she would live. It was a moot point when she had kissed me, and I had realised it immediately. As much as I craved her, craved her love I knew that I could not hold her to my ultimatum, so I had made her leave.

I had never entertained the idea that she would return to me of her own free will and now that she was here I did not know what to do, what to think. My suspicions and doubts ate at me and being stuck in this blasted bed was not helping my temper.

I glanced over at the bedside table and saw that Christine had removed the Persian monkey music box and had set several books there instead. I picked one up and opened it, touched at her thoughtfulness.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I walked out of the room, all the while a voice in the back of my mind was yelling at me, asking me what in the world I had been thinking, snapping at him like that. But I was so frustrated!

I had not told Erik how I felt about him.

I had been determined to do it. I had been determined to not let another day go by without telling him. But the words had just frozen in my throat when he looked at me with those intense eyes, so full of anger and bitterness. What little courage I had thought I had mustered had withered underneath the heat of his resentment.

I had realised something. He was already on edge from being stuck in bed. He was angry and he hated showing weakness. His wanting his mask back had only shown me that he did not trust me. Why else did he refuse to think that I was not bothered by his face? I sighed. Of course he did not trust me. I had given him no reason to.

No matter how much I wanted to tell him how I felt, I just could not do it. Not now. I would wait to talk to him when he was feeling better, I decided. Then perhaps he would be more open to listening to me and believing what I had to say. And perhaps by then I could gather up my courage once more.

X

It was easier said than done, I realised two days later. Erik was still being difficult and the days had been...trying. No matter how hard I tried to show him that I cared he constantly rebuffed me. He barely spoke to me and rarely even looked at me. And when he did speak to me he was usually cryptic.

Collapsing into the throne chair, I sighed. I was certain that he would be out of bed the next day. His strength was back and it had only been my protests that had kept him in bed this long.

Then what? I thought wearily. I knew I had to talk to him, and yet I was terrified to. What could I say to make him trust me? Would he ever trust me again or had I ruined our chances?

I fell asleep with those thoughts running through my mind.

I was startled awake the next morning by a rustling sound next to my face. I looked up from where I had fallen asleep in the throne chair and saw Erik standing next to the chair, watching me intently.

"Erik!" I said, scrambling up. "You are up! How are you?" I asked anxiously as I stood, facing him.

"I am feeling better," Erik said. He looked away for a minute before he turned back to me. Then he took a deep breath. "Thank you for caring for me while I was ill," he said with his now-familiar emotionless voice. "But I am better and you may leave now."

"What?" I asked, staring at him.

"You may leave. I am well now; there is no need for you to stay."

His voice was flat and there was a glint in his eyes.

"But..." I said.

"I am certain that the Vicomte must wonder where you have been. I certainly do not want him to come looking for you," he snapped and with that he tossed me a dark look and turned. He strode through the archway to the kitchen and I heard his door shut.

I sank down into the chair. It seemed every time I gathered my courage and convinced myself to talk to him, something like this happened. I was not even sure whether he even still wanted me.

I was frustrated, angry and tired. I walked out of Erik's chambers and stood on the bank of the underground lake, tears stinging my eyes. I truly was a fool. Why was it so hard for me to just tell him? Why could I not be firm? Why did I have to be so nervous and timid?

With a sigh I sat on the cold stone floor and stared out at the water. Pale light from a torch rippled across the inky water and the only sound was the quiet splash of water on the bank. What was I doing? My life was such a mess and I just did not know what to do about it. I loved Erik, but I was beginning to doubt if he loved me still. Perhaps I had ruined everything with my childish foolishness. Perhaps it would be best if I just left...

Suddenly I stood up. Enough! I thought. I was not going to play the wilting flower anymore. Erik had taught me how to spread my wings, to believe in myself. It was time I tried to fly.

I walked determinedly back into Erik's chambers. I walked through the main chamber, through the kitchen and stood in front of his bedroom door, heart pounding in anticipation.

I took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.

There was silence before the door finally swung open, revealing an irritated Erik. "What?" he snapped.

"E-Erik," I said. Then I took another deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Erik, I..."

I looked into the depths of his icy blue eyes. They glowed with anger and another emotion not so easily defined. Sadness, perhaps?

"Are you ready?" he asked coldly, politely. "I will take you across the lake if you are."

"No, I am not," I said stupidly.

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a look as if I were a particularly dim-witted child. "Is there something that you need? A suitcase perhaps?"

I pressed my lips together, frustrated. He was not making this easy.

"Erik..." I said again.

"Yes?" he replied.

I gritted my teeth. "Erik, I love you!" I blurted out.

The expression on his face did not change. In fact, had it not been for the flicker of surprise that I briefly saw in his eyes I might have thought I had just told him his tea was ready for all the reaction he gave.

Silence fell heavily between us as we stared at each other.

"Miss Daae, have you been into my wine collection?" he asked sardonically.

I gaped at him, tears of frustration and anger prickling behind my eyes.

"Erik!" I said.

"Child, I have already told you. I do not want your sympathies, nor do I want your pity," he said flatly.

I realised my mouth was still hanging open and snapped my jaws shut.

"But I love you!" I cried. "Why do you not believe me?"

"Believe you?" he repeated incredulously. "What reason do I have to believe you? As I recall, you have made plans to leave, to make your life with the Vicomte. You came back, I can only assume to be part of the plot to rid the Opera House of the Phantom. And you then made your choice to stay with me only because you wished to save your arrogant lover. I do not even know why you returned again, other than I would guess that you were to turn me over to the authorities. What happened, did your sense of honour prevent you from turning a man on his deathbed into the police?"

His voice had turned colder and harsher with each word so that when he finished I was flinching back from his anger, which pulsed around him.

Tears streaked down my cheeks as I shook my head. "It is not like that!" I protested.

"You have given me no reason to think otherwise," he stated, his voice calm once more.

Our eyes met. "I stayed with you, Erik. I have done nothing but try to help you," I said softly.

"And I have done nothing but wonder what your motives are," he shot back.

"My only motive is that I love you!" I cried.

There was another silence and then, as if a curtain was drawn, the fire in his eyes faded and he looked at me tiredly.

"I do not believe you," he said quietly.

My heart was pounding and I was still crying, but I took a step towards him. He flinched slightly but did not move as I reached for him. I took his hand and looked up at him.

"Then let me prove it to you, Erik. I love you," I said softly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.