Erik's POV

I had not died. That was the worst part of it all. No, instead of dying, I spent days suffering in that filthy hospital. When I had finally stopped vomiting, I was able to go back home. Though, even when I was home, I still couldn't stand to be out of bed. No, instead, I spent endless hours resting beneath the blankets, too ill to do anything else. But, if there was one thing I had agreed to, it was to train Christine with her singing. I decided to start it on nights after Gustave was in bed, that way, she and I wouldn't be disturbed. I hadn't written anything new in the past few years, which was why I decided to recycle old songs for her to practice with. On the first night I had agreed to start her lessons, she came walking into my room after putting Gustave to bed. Instead of me sitting at my piano and having her stand on the other side like old times, I handed her a score and had her stand at the end of my bed. There would be no way I could possibly stand to be out of bed tonight.

"Here," I said, handing her the score. "You will sing this."

"Erik, you don't look so well," Christine mentioned. "Perhaps we should do this on another night when you're not weak."

"I'll live," I groaned. "I'm tired of sleeping all hours of the day. Just start singing from the beginning of the aria."

"But there is no music," Christine continued. "Usually, whenever I would sing to you, you would be playing the melody on the piano."

"Christine, please don't argue with me tonight. All I want is for you to sing me the song. Does there always have to be music playing? Can't you hear the melody from inside of your head? Or is it something else?"

"I'm sorry," Christine said, looking up from the score. "It's just that I haven't sung in over five years. I'm worried that I will sound horrible."

"Don't be worried, Christine. I'm sure you will sound absolutely lovely. Now, on with the song, please. Just take a deep breath and concentrate."

Christine did as I had asked her to do and began to sing. The moment her voice filled my ears, my heart began to soar. It had been years since I last heard her voice, but she was wonderful in every way. Yes, it needed some training, but she would be the Christine I once knew soon enough.

"Christine, stop, please," I said, cutting her short of her song.

"What's wrong?" she worriedly asked.

"You're not breathing," I said. "You're too nervous. Why so nervous, Christine? You were never this way, not even when I began training you as a child. Why do you feel the need to shake as if you've never taken the stage before? I know that you're used to being up there."

Christine shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her feet, but I wasn't taking no for an answer. No, she would give me the answer I so desired.

"Christine, please answer me."

"I…I don't know," she lied. "I've just been nervous these past few years. You know, Raoul was going to make me stop singing once we were married. He spoke about it many times before that night of Don Juan. He didn't like that I sang, he said it was too proper for a future Vicountess. In a way, I'm sort of glad that things didn't work out between us. Without music, there was no me."

"And yet, you've gone five years in silence. Why, Christine? You should have been on stage, singing for crowds of people, not serving disgusting men in a whore house."

"I had no choice," Christine cried. "I had a child to think about, Erik. How easy you forget that I have raised a child on my own these past five years. It wasn't easy. There were nights when I even thought about selling my body for money. Though, you saved me and I can't thank you enough for it."

"Don't thank me, Christine. Come spring, you will be more famous than you could ever have imagined. There will be plenty of suitable men at your feet, men that will love you with all of their heart. When that time comes, I do hope that you pick the right one this time."

Christine had been smiling, but as soon as I said those very words, her smile faded, leaving her standing at the edge of my bed with a look of sorrow displayed across her face.

"Right," she pouted.

"Now, back to your singing," I ordered. "Your voice isn't going to train on its own. Stand up straight and breathe, woman."

I knew training Christine was going to be harder than I first thought it to be, seeing that she had become nervous over the past five years. But I knew come spring, she would be doing much better and ready to take her place on stage once again.

"I believe we have trained enough for the night," I said, after having her sing me five songs. "I don't want you to over work yourself, Christine."

Christine nodded and handed me back the scores, standing at the side of my bed with a look of worriment displayed across her face.

"What is it, Christine?"

"Well, remember when you were in the hospital, Erik?"

"Oh, how could I forget that despicable place?" I groaned. "It's better that you don't remind me."

"I mean, about the conversation we had. The bet, where you betted that you would die."

"Of course I remember that," I scoffed. "What about it?"

"Well, you said that if you lived, you would take me out to the fanciest place in Coney Island for dinner. I know that you're still not feeling well, but you haven't brought it up. Did you truly mean what you said, or did you do that as a joke and nothing more?"

"Christine," I stopped to think about what I was going to say. I had believed that I would die, which was why I said those words. But in my heart, I knew that I couldn't take Christine out, for it would no nothing but open old wounds again. No, the further away I kept my distance from the woman, the better.

"Christine, I can't take you out," I said. "You know that I can't."

"And why not, Erik? Have I not proven that I am more than I was? All I wish is that you would spend some time with me. Why is it so hard for you to like me again? I have done nothing to steer you wrong, angel."

"Don't call me that!" I growled. "Now leave me before I become angry with you. There will be no dinner between you and I and that is final. I can't even believe that you would expect such a thing out of me after all that you've done."

I could see tears streaming down Christine's cheeks, and I knew exactly why. I had upset her, and that's all I ever did was upset her. I hated myself for it, but how could I treat her with kindness after all that she's done to me? It would no nothing but hurt my heart. For the remainder of the night, I laid there, angry with myself for what I had said to Christine. But at the same time, I knew that it had been the right thing to do. The following morning, I heard my door opening, only to open my eyes as see Gustave sitting on my bed with a look of sadness displayed across his face. Oh, what was wrong with the child?

"Gustave, I am in no mood for visitors," I growled. "I'm still feeling under the weather, which is why you shouldn't be in here with me."

"I'm hungry," he cried.

"Well then go and find your mother. I'm not your father, Gustave, I told you this before."

I pressed my face into my pillow and closed my eyes, attempting to fall back into a deep slumber. At least there, I didn't feel any pain.

"Mama won't get up either."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, turning to face the child once again.

"She's sad…. I don't know why though. She refuses to get out of bed and told me to go into the kitchen and make myself something to eat. Only, I don't know how to make anything. Why is mama sad, Mr. Erik?"

Knowing that Christine was upset over the way I had treated her, I managed to get myself out of bed and carried the child downstairs. I placed him down on the kitchen table and walked down the hall to Christine's room to realize that she was indeed crying. Why was it that she wanted to spend time with me? The woman had her face buried in her pillow, sobbing as if the man of her dreams had just broken off their engagement with her. In my heart, I knew that Christine pitied me, and I could kill myself for making love to her. Well, I wouldn't call it that… I merely used her body for my own pleasure. How selfish of me! She was better than that and I had hurt her. Damn me! How was I to know that one would become attached to the other by doing such a thing? She had begged it of me again a few weeks ago, and when I refused, even then she became upset. Knowing that it was better to leave her alone, I made my way out into the kitchen and started some toast for the boy. It would have to do until his mother felt a little better.

"Mr. Erik, what are you making?"

"Toast," I said, pouring him a glass of orange juice. "When your mother is feeling better, I'll have her make you something else. Right now, all I want to do is make you something to eat and go back to bed."

"I'm glad you're home, Mr. Erik. When you were in the hospital, it was lonely here. Mama wasn't even the same. She was worried too."

"Really? How so?"

Gustave took a sip of his drink and shrugged his shoulders.

"All she did was clean your stuff and talk about you. And when she wasn't here, she was at the hospital with you. I know that she really likes you, Mr. Erik. Is that why mama is sad?"

"No, Gustave," I lied. "I don't know why your mother is sad."

"Last night when I was in bed, I heard her singing upstairs. Were you teaching mama how to sing?"

"I was," I said. "I was training her. In the spring, she is going to be my main star. Your mother will be famous."

I set the toast down in front of Gustave, only to have him look down and then slide the plate my way.

"Mr. Erik, mama always cuts the crust off of my bread."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Gustave, can you please just cut me a break today? I'm not feeling well, boy."

"But, Mr. Erik?"

Once more I groaned and took his plate away, cutting the crust off of his bread and handing it back to him.

"There, now please just eat and leave me be. When you're finished with your dish, wash it and put it away."

I was walking towards the stairs again, when Gustave called for me.

"Mr. Erik?"

"Yes, Gustave?"

"Mama told me the other day that she likes you, more than any man in the entire world. What does that mean?"

I sighed. "It means nothing, boy. Now, just eat your breakfast and leave your mother be."

After walking up the stairs and crawling back into bed, I thought about a lot of things. I thought about my lonliness and about the past few years I have spent alone. I thought about the whorehouses and the nights I wished I had a woman to be with. Oh, there were a lot of nights that I wished that. But it wasn't even to make love to them. No, It was for the other things too, the more important things. I wanted a woman to talk to, I wanted a woman to spend time with, and I wanted a woman who would accept me for who I was and smile in my presence. That had never happened to me before…that was, except with Christine. In the past, she may have screamed, in the past she may have been disgusted by my very appearance, but now was the complete opposite. The woman smiled with me, she laughed with me and she even loved spending time with me…Endless hours of fun and warmth. So why was it that I felt the need to push her away from me? Perhaps the past did hurt, but was it possible for me to actually forget about the past in order to have a happy future? That was something I wasn't sure about. Sometimes, I would look upon Christine and see her frightened appearance hidden within her soul, the same fright she had given me the first time she laid eyes upon my face. Oh, if I was to ever see it again, it would hurt me more than anything in the world. I couldn't possibly imagine going through what I had, which was why I took Madame Giry's warning and kept my distance from the girl. Besides business, I didn't want our relationship going any farther.

Perhaps I didn't owe her anything, but in my heart, I knew that I could try to accept her admiration. Perhaps I could do it in secrecy and if it didn't work out, then I would continue our relationship as is. I could take things slow and work at my pace, never doing anything with the girl that I didn't feel comfortable with. But how was I to know what I would and wouldn't be comfortable with? Well, dinner would be a start, and for Christine, I would take her up on the promise I had made, that promise being to take her to the fanciest restaurant in all of Coney Island. If I could get through dinner, I could get through any sitting with her…We would see.

Don't kill me...Please... I know you were all waiting for the date, but it obviously didn't happen. Well, maybe next chapter. Please review!