I stood at the front of the chapel wearing my best black tuxedo with a crisp white dress shirt. I had a single white rose tucked into the lapel of my jacket, and I was wearing my best white silk mask. Though I knew I did not need to wear the mask for my Christine, I was infinitely more comfortable with my face covered, especially around so many people that I did not know.
The priest stood before me and I was amazed at how everyone was treating me. No one said a word to me about the mask, they seemed quite accepting. I wondered idly what Charles had told them.
Then the organist began to play and the doors at the end of the chapel were opened.
Christine stood framed in the doorway, looking just like an angel in the flowing white wedding gown. She had the veil across her face so I could not see her expression, but she walked forward confidently, with her head held high. Charles stepped forward to take her arm and he walked her down the aisle. When they reached the front of the aisle he leaned forward and said something to her before she stepped forward and stood by my side. I lifted the veil gently.
Christine was beautiful. Her smile was radiant, her brilliant green eyes sparkling. I smiled back at her as we turned to face the priest.
The ceremony was simple yet beautiful. The priest spoke of our love for each other and the strength that we would need to face the future together.
When he turned to me and said, "Do you, Erik de Nuit, take this woman, Christine Marie Daae to be your wife?" I felt Christine's startled glance.
The business of my surname had never come up with Christine, amazingly enough. I had given much thought to the matter and decided that I had no desire to give Christine my given surname. The name held nothing but pain and bad memories for me and I had long since given up using it. After much thought I had decided to give myself a new surname, something that signified my life; both my past and my new life with Christine.
De Nuit. Of night. What name better represented me, represented all that I was? I would always be of the night.
I smiled warmly at Christine. I would explain everything to her later.
The priest gave us his blessing for a beautiful life together and then proclaimed us man and wife. Monsieur and Madame Erik de Nuit.
"You may now kiss the bride," he said and I grinned like a child as I took her in my arms and kissed her.
I felt our souls become one as we kissed and it seemed in that moment that there was nothing between us. No mask, no prejudice. There was only Christine, her hand on my cheek as we kissed. I could feel the rapid beating of her heart as the kiss went on.
When we pulled apart we were both grinning.
We walked hand in hand down the aisle. I felt a giddiness that I could honestly say I had never felt in my life. I kept looking down at our entwined fingers and at the plain gold band on my left hand. I would never have thought it possible that I would find a woman who would accept me and the fact that Christine Daae was my wife seemed nothing short of a miracle.
A white carriage drawn by two fine white horses stood on the street outside the chapel. We climbed into the carriage while Charles and his wife waved at us from the steps of the church.
The carriage lurched forward, taking us to the small country inn where we would be spending our wedding night. My fears and uncertainties were creeping up, threatening to choke me, but then I looked at Christine and felt my fears disappear. Christine sat opposite me in the small carriage. She reached over and carefully removed the white silk mask.
"There," she said. "Now I can properly see my husband." She smiled broadly, her eyes warm as she gazed at me.
I chuckled awkwardly and looked down.
Immediately Christine sensed my insecurity and took my hands into hers.
"Erik," she said softly, and moved to sit next to me.
I looked up at her and knew she could see the naked vulnerability in my eyes. "I love you, Erik. I am so happy to be your wife. Madame Erik de Nuit." She paused then. "Erik, that is not your surname, is it?"
"It is not," I said. "I have no desire to honour my parents by giving you their last name."
She nodded. "De Nuit. It suits you," she said. "I like it. Christine de Nuit."
I smiled at her and squeezed her hands. "I am so happy, Christine. I have never known such happiness."
"And I am happy, too, Erik. So very happy," she said and she leaned across the carriage and kissed me, boldly, on the lips.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, kissing her softly, deeply, my hands in her soft hair. She returned my kiss eagerly and when we parted her eyes were fiery with desire. My heart was racing in my chest.
I looked down at her, relishing the feel of her soft body against mine, marvelling in the reality that she was my wife.
Our relationship had put us through the fire, but we had both emerged, triumphant, like a phoenix from the ashes. Life with Christine would no doubt be full of surprises, full of excitement, but I knew that we would be happy, so happy, together.
Always, one love, one lifetime.
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I followed Madame Emond downstairs. She deposited me in front of a set of double doors and left. I stood there until I heard the faint sound of the organ. Two attendants opened the doors and I stood at the end of a long aisle, surrounded on both sides by pews, mostly empty.
I did not focus on that, though. Instead I looked directly at the end of the aisle, where Erik stood, clearly nervous. He was dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo, his white mask catching the light that poured through a large stained glass window above the dais where the priest stood in his white and gold robes.
Suddenly Charles was next to me, holding out his arm. I looped my arm through his, clutching the bouquet tightly, my eyes never leaving Erik's face.
As his eyes caught mine he smiled.
When we reached the end of the aisle Charles took my hand and placed it in Erik's. Erik's hand was cold, but his blue eyes behind the mask glowed with warmth and happiness, an emotion that I had seen so rarely on his face. I could not help but wish that it was my father who had walked me down the aisle. I still missed him, but it was no longer the cold, empty ache that it had been. Instead I was filled with love for my father who had given me so much. I knew he would be happy that I was getting married, that he would be glad that I was happy.
The ceremony was simple, but lovely. I barely heard a word of it, though, my excitement made it nearly impossible for me to concentrate.
I was surprised to hear the priest use Erik's surname. For whatever reason I had never thought to ask his surname, he had always just been Erik.
De Nuit, I thought. Ofnight. I was certain that the name was not his given name, but a name he had chosen. It suited him, I thought, and I was happy to take the name as my own.
When the ceremony ended we were pronounced man and wife and we kissed. The kiss was urgent, passionate and infinitely gentle.
And with that kiss I felt as if my life were complete. I was Madame Erik de Nuit. The thought thrilled me and as we parted I grinned at him, feeling a heady rush of excitement.
We hurried to the waiting carriage, which was beautiful and white, pulled by two magnificent white horses. We waved to Charles and his wife and settled back in our seats, basking in the warmth and excitement of our wedding.
I looked at my left hand, at the glittering diamond and plain gold band that signified my union to Erik. I thought of the circle that made up the wedding band and what it signified.
Something with no beginning and no end. Something that went on for eternity.
Somehow I felt as if I had always loved Erik, had always known I was meant to love him, from the moment we met. Our destinies were entwined and we had seen that destiny through today as we were wed.
I looked over at Erik and smiled. Eternity. A love that would not die.
We were together, all was as it should be. I could almost see our lives together as we lived and loved and grew old together, forever.
One love, one lifetime.