"Your story," Amelia whispered, "you read it?"
"No," Erik confessed, "I was not ready to open that door, and I was worried it might take me back to my time, but the librarian was kind enough to ask if I wanted the book, the musical, or a… film?" Erik spoke the word with such hesitancy Amelia nearly laughed. "I was not sure what 'film' meant, but I can only imagine based on everything else I have seen."
"How long have you been here Erik?" Amelia asked.
"A few days," he answered not meeting her eyes, "When I first arrived, I thought I might see you, I had to guess which day you might have come back. I returned to the opera house each day to check to see if you were there."
"But I never saw you, Erik, when I came back you weren't there…"
"I must have missed you," Erik chided himself, "but I saw you come back in the evening to the opera house and I had to follow you. And then the music started and…"
Amelia smiled, "I'm surprised you didn't see this opera sooner."
"I mostly wandered around, so many bright lights, it's all just amazing," Erik responded almost dreamily.
Amelia realized they had gotten way off track, "So you were… with Christine."
Erik sighed, "Yes, Amíe, and I'm sorry. Does it mean nothing to you that I'm still here? That I found you? That I am so happy that I found you?"
Amelia put her hands on her hips, "Well you did travel a long way to be with me, I guess I can forgive… and try to forget. But that still doesn't answer my question, how you got here?"
"During my time with Christine, she noticed I wasn't content. I finally confessed to her about my time with you and my concern that you were a dream. Christine was not pleased but indulged my need to relive my time with you. She did not remember you at first, but as I talked about you she realized that you were, 'the redheaded maid who was in my dressing room a few times.'"
Amelia blushed, "I may have been stalking her a bit."
Erik continued, "I was so relieved I broke down right in front of Christine. To her credit, she was very kind to me."
"And then she left?" Amelia probed, wondering which Phantom sequel would prove a reality.
"After I confessed that I was in love with you and that I would find you, yes, she returned to the Viscount," he said sadly, "though I told her she deserved better."
"You are the 'better,'" Amelia observed.
Erik didn't respond, but continued, "I did some research, although the likes of HG Wells and Edward Page Mitchell, were of little help to me once I decided to believe that you had travelled through time."
Amelia smiled, "Did you try to build a time machine, Erik?"
"Of course I tried, but as it turns out, it cannot be done," he concluded matter-of-factly. Amelia thought she heard a bit of annoyance in his voice, irritation at not being able to master something.
"And yet," Amelia pointed out gesturing to him.
"And yet," he continued, "he I am. Yes, I admit getting to very frustrated. But it when I began to return to my roots in Persia and time spent in India, that I started to determine how a person might 'think' their way to another time. The East taught me much about mediation and yoga."
"Yoga!" Amelia exclaimed, "they had yoga back then?"
"I assume you are unaware of its roots, but yes. This gave me the idea to meditate and during a session I experienced a shift in time. For a moment only and from there I continued and improved my timing. I realized having things around me that were from my time were a distraction and from there, I had to guess which time you would be, using your birth year."
"So you knew how old I was?" Amelia asked.
"No, I guessed." Erik replied.
"Hey!" someone shouted over to them, Erik bolted up ready to strike.
An usher walked over to them, "The show is over, you must leave, we have to clean."
Amelia exhaled, "Yes, Monsieur, I am sorry, come darling let's go." She walked towards Erik, helping to hide his mask using his cloak and hat and they left the theater together. The usher stared a bit, but said nothing.
They walked arm and arm out of the opera house scrolling down the Rue Scribe. Erik's grip on her arm tightened as they past, unseen, through the crowds of people, and as the cars drove by.
"Cars, electricity, even bicycles, are all new to him," Amelia thought and she tried to walk past anything too modern.
"Erik," she whispered, "Let's walk down to the Seine, it should be quieter."
"Yes," he responded.
It took about fifteen minutes to walk down to the Tulieries Gardens. There weren't that many people around and Amelia could feel Erik relax.
"I'm sorry, Erik, I know this is all very overwhelming."
"I have never been comfortable around crowds, the technology is the least of my fears," he answered with a quick laugh. They found a bench near a fountain enjoying the timelessness of their surroundings.
"This looks familiar," Erik said a note of longing in his voice, "It's nice to know some things haven't changed too much."
They sat for a minute in silence just watching the fountain in the middle of the lake before Amelia had speak, "Erik, I'm worried that you're going to disappear from me…"
Erik sighed, "So am I, but I came here to be with you. I think it will take some adjustments on my part, but my world had nothing to offer me, Amelia. Maybe yours will." Amelia leaned over and glancing around to make sure they were alone, removing his mask, and kissing him softly. As they parted they both smiled.
"You know what I want to see first?" Erik stood up and offered Amelia his hand.
"I'd guess, but something tells me I'd be wrong."
Erik laughed, "No operas, no museums, no centers for technology. All I want is to see where you live."
Amelia giggled, "That could be difficult seeing as I live in the United States, but you are welcome to see my temporary quarters here in Paris…"
"Lead the way, Amíe." They strolled through the gardens awaiting a night of reunited love.