She stayed in her room the rest of the day hoping he would come find her but knowing that his pride would never allow it. At first she paced back and forth doing some cleaning and organizing where she could to try and make the hours move faster. At one point she took out her hair, pin by pin, until it was free and wild. She undressed from the constraints of the petticoats and corsets settling for her most comfortable night shift, plain white linen tied at the neck by a think satin ribbon.

She was so tired of pretending and feeling constricted in every aspect. Erik was right, she wasn't being completely honest and she wasn't being herself. She lay on her bed wondering what right she had to tell him the truth. Would he even believe her? No, probably not. Although, this reality seemed a bit different from the novel. It seemed Leroux had made a few things up.

For awhile she lay there until she fell asleep. Suddenly, she awoke with a start and saw Erik in the doorway his fist as white as his mask, clenched. She sat up holding the covers around her, feeling vulnerable. This could be it.

"Erik," she whispered, "What is it?"

She could barely here his response it was so quiet, "How did you know…"

"Erik, how did I know about what, you?"

He shook his head, "No, how did you know about her?"

Now it was her turn to turn white as the sheet she not held to herself tighter than ever, "Erik please tell me what you are talking about, you're scaring me."

He walked over to her and sat at the edge of the bed looking like a frightened child who had just woken up from a nightmare. Erik sat there looking down and then his blue eyes bore into her soul as he said, "That girl… Christine… how did you know?"

Her heart nearly stopped, she felt trapped in a nightmare. Everything Leroux had written was now coming true, and just as she was falling in love with the man of her dreams, she felt him pulling away from her.

"No…" she whispered closing her eyes and laying back down on the bed. She hoped he would leave her alone but he seemed to have gotten over his fear and was now kneeling at her bedside, pleading.

"Please, Amelia, you must tell me, how did you know about her?"

She responded with her face practically smashed into the pillow, "I told you I heard a rumor about the ballet girls… she was one of them, what else is there to know?"

"Her name… you mentioned her name, and an Angel of Music… you mentioned her voice?"

She sighed, "What about it, I told you it was a rumor?"

"No!" he shouted frightening her up leaning against the back of the bed, "No, this girl, you mentioned her, to me, as if…" he knelt at her bedside once more, "Amelia her voice, this young girl's voice is like nothing, I don't know what to do. I can't get it out of my mind."

Amelia felt the tears coming and she decided he did not get to see her cry again. She lay back down and covered her head with the sheet, "Erik, how can you ask this of me now? After, after…" she couldn't even finish. They had been so close, she had almost gotten everything that she had never dared hope for in her life. Now it was happening, all that she feared was happening. Could she change fate? Did she have the right to change fate?

But wait… she sat up suddenly and felt an enormous responsibility. She knew how this story would play out, yes he would fall in love with her, and perhaps she to him, but it didn't work out. Christine would eventually leave Erik heartbroken… her Erik. She had two choices, to tell him the whole truth and what would happen, prevent him from ever being hurt, or let his story play out and risk him dying from a broken heart.

The responsibility of it all was too much she couldn't hide the tears any longer and began to sob not caring just saying vague things like, "Erik please" or "I can't do it." Erik seemed to have snapped out of his trance because he began holding her and letting her cry on his shoulder, soaking his shirt. He did not pat her back and sooth her, but he allowed her to hold him until she grew too tired for tears and could breathe enough to formulate words. Erik did not seem disturbed by her outburst but he remained quiet, patiently waiting for her to speak again.

She sat up, feeling foolish at her childishness, "I'm sorry Erik; that was childish of me, and it was just too much…"she felt the tears come again and fought to keep them away," But I cannot tell you everything you want to know or how I know what I do. You must make your own choices based on what you feel is right. I cannot sway your decisions any more than I already might have. My being here… it's wrong; it's not fair to you…"

He interrupted her, "Amelia I don't understand. You aren't making any sense. I've tried to be patient with you but, I know you aren't being truthful."

"I can't Erik. It could be bad, I never thought that…" she realized that she would have to leave. She was messing up destinies and she cared about Erik too much to ruin his chances. Maybe in the real story Christine was the love of his life. Maybe she came back. Who was she to ruin this destiny? She left her bed forgetting her skimpy attire, unabashedly walking around trying to find the outfit she came in.

Erik seemed to notice and being a gentlemen tried to avert his eyes from his thin shift, "Amelia, perhaps I should leave you…"

Mistaking his civility for disinterest she shot back at him dramatically, "Yes avert your eyes from the horror. Go seek what you truly burn for, how foolish of me."

He whirled around approaching her like a cat stalking prey, "Is that what this is about? Jealousy? You think I do not desire you? You believe that from the moment I saw you I could not believe that you allowed me to touch you and hold you."

His eyes did not leave hers as he advanced on her, her throat felt scratchy as the longing she felt took over again. She tried to remain brave, "You desire me? Yet you have barely touched me until today. And yet you see this Christine once and you are reduced to a schoolboy. I think I am just the first woman you felt you could ever bed."

She saw her last comment scorch him, but he recovered quickly and she saw the anger and distrust return to his eyes, "Is that what you believe? Perhaps you are right, what woman could ever love this," and before she could react he had taken off his mask like a lightening shot. Her mouth involuntarily became an "O" of surprise. He must have mistaken this reaction for horror because his malformed lips curled into a cruel smile almost disguising the hurt in his eyes, "Yes, it's so easy to love me when I'm covered. My mother loved me when I wore my mask too, until I refused to wear it."

She snapped back to reality and was not going to let him ruin this moment, "Erik shut-up for a minute you are ruining this for me!" His eyes looked surprised, she wondered if what she said didn't translate that same, and once he realized that she was not afraid his eyes softened.

Amelia had seen this moment, like most of her moments spent with Erik, in her mind, but she knew before she set off to find her destiny that nothing could ever prepare her for the day when she would see his face. In truth she did not know what to expect and prayed every day that she could see beyond any discomfort she might feel and remain stone. She prayed her affections would do protect her from her own prejudice and ignorance.

In one moment she had been put to the test and had passed with flying colors. Although she felt weak with surprise, his face, was not that bad. Well… it was very disfigured, but in her heart she was glad for she could finally see the emotions within his soul. The nature of the disfigurement could not be described and quite frankly was not important, but she saw his eyes blinking fast as if waiting for her to shrink away in terror any moment as her exploration continued. His mouth did not move but his malformed lips remained pursed in firm resolve.

Tentatively, as if in a dream, she continued her sensory exploration of his face this time seeing her way. Lifting one hand up slowly, waiting for him to stop her, up towards his face. He did not stop her and allowed her to gently place her hand on his cheek. He jumped as if by electric shock as he did last time, but still did not remove her hand. Exploring new territory with her fingers she felt the rough skin and bumpy surfaces that covered both cheeks and chin. Amelia dared to tentatively brush her hand over the crevice where his nose would have been. She was not repulsed, but it took all of her control not to let tears run down her face. He must not sense any pity in her. None. Last, she moved her fingertips to his lips, feeling their soft texture despite their deformed appearance.

Her hand dropped to her side, "How could you doubt for a moment that I wouldn't be able to look at you, that it would change how I feel?"

At this point she noticed he was staring at her and she remembered her attire, leaving little to the imagination. She figured if he could let his guards down, she could as well. It was his turn to explore and her turn to feel vulnerable. She took wrapped her arms around his neck slowly, kissing his neck, feeling him shudder at each kiss, making her way to his ears, "If you desire me, then show me."

She felt his hands reach for the hem of her shift which came down to her knees, his hands moved the fabric up exposing her thighs. His hands tentatively moved against her legs feeling the soft skin and gradually moving up to her hips, lifting the fabric higher and higher. She shivered in anticipation as he raised her shift higher until she raised her arms allowed it to be abandoned.

Now that she was the vulnerable one, she stood firm in front of him, unashamed. Watching his face was torturous, the desire in his eyes was clear, but he seemed unsure what to do first. His hands rose up to her shoulders making their way down to forbidden territory, making their way down to her belly, and then lower.

Before long, she was unbuttoning his shirt, feeling the strength in his muscles, surprised how muscular he was underneath his suit. As she moved to the button on his trousers his hand seemed to instinctively cover hers, but she looked at his to calm his fears. This was not her first time doing this but for some reason she felt that same shy vulnerability that came with being a virgin.

Erik trembled slightly as he cupped her neck, his long fingers caressed her hair, making her shiver as his caressed got bolder and more certain. Instinctively she turned around so he could unbutton her dress, with so many button each one undone sent a tremor down her spine. As her back became exposed Erik placed tentative kisses down her back. Unable to wait any longer, she spun around and kissed him full and hard on the mouth, tasting his sweet lips, their shape irrelevant in their passions.

His hands moved to her dress slowly but aggressively pushing it down revealing her simple undergarments. The corset dug in to her breasts and after a moment of fear Erik deftly freed her from the constraints of 17th century womanhood. He stopped a moment breathing softly, looking at her nakedness with hunger eyes. He trailed kisses down her neck, stopping at her collarbone giving her goose bumps all down her body. Cupping each of her breasts as if it was a strange but beautiful jewel if he had never touched a woman before, it was certainly not apparent.

Sex had never been like this, the raw passion of needing someone in the moment, coupled with souls intertwined, speaking to each in other in physical displays of affection. Every moan every sigh, every touch, every caress, all of it meant more that it ever had to both of them. Amelia cried out as they lay on the bed together fitting together as perfectly as two hands play a sonata on the piano, Erik cried out her name as they finished together, making the most beautiful music of all.