Chapter 18 The new pianist
"A new choreography?"
Meg walked hurriedly to stand in front of the managers. It was late in the morning as she observed the cast spread all over the stage, nervousness and tiredness written all over their features after rehearsing for at least three or four hours. She approached the managers, fanning herself in an effort to stop the perspiration running down her neck. Looking around she tried to pass through an enormous piece of the scenery as the stage crew was moving it. Everyone seemed be taking advantage of the break in rehearsals to rearrange the scenery. Some of the curious cast members were looking up at the bridge where Christine was standing with Auguste, a man a couple of years older than Meg, with blonde, curly hair. He was the new tenor who was assuming the role of Don Juan. Although most of the performers knew that Auguste would never be able to replace such an excellent performer as he had been, they still supported him and encouraged him. Paris was expecting the Phantom, and that was the main reason why the first month was already sold out, although Meg knew that that wouldn't happen.
Rumours of his possible return were destroying the nerves of every single member of the cast and crew. They knew that this was the opportunity to return the Opera Populaire to its older glory, and everything needed to be perfect. Meg was aware of Raoul standing near the stairs of the bridge, looking intently at Christine. He had been the one who had chosen the new singer, as he had once again decided to be the patron of the opera, and of course the managers weren't averse to the offer. She could clearly see the anguish in Christine's face as she neared the managers who stood standing nervously with Monsieur Reyer at the stage entrance. He looked somewhat tired, a sad frown over his face. He had been working hard with the orchestra to achieve perfection, and perhaps, satisfy the Phantom's wishes. There was no doubt that the orchestra had improved since the last performance, mostly because of Mon. Reyer's effort.
But there was something missing within the performance. It lacked of…passion. Although Auguste was superb singer, he didn't match Erik's level. First of all, Erik was definitely a tenor, though Meg doubted that his voice could be classified. It was deep, raw and hypnotizing, alluring, gentle and comforting at the same time, with a tint of masculinity that added sensuality to his performance. On the other hand, Auguste had a clear tenor voice, trained over the years. Yes, he sang beautifully, but still he lacked the passion Erik had when he sang. His voice didn't make hearts beat faster or hypnotize people, as Erik's had. He had only needed to sing the first verse of the song to have the audience under his spell, becoming Paris's new sensation.
If Meg was already stressed out because of all the pressure that had been placed on her, to add a new ballet for her was just ridiculous, how would she be able to create a whole new choreography in less than two days?
"Please, Madame, you have to understand-"stuttered Mon. Andre nervously, glancing at Mon. Firmin for support.
"I'm sorry, Monsieurs" began Meg breathing heavily "But this is completely ridiculous! How do you expect me to keep up with such demands?"
"It's something that has to be done" stated Mon. Firmin shakily, an apologetic expression.
"According to who?" Meg demanded "This is nonsense!"
"I beg your understanding, Madame" continued Mon. Andre "But there's nothing we can do about it"
Meg inhaled deeply trying to calm herself down. She wasn't going to make a scene out of all of this. Looking around she realized that the entire ballet troop was observing her, waiting for her next words. Glancing up, she met Christine's eyes, sparkling with amusement. A new feeling invaded her body, not anger, but something deeper. It was the need to prove that she was better, that she could accomplish anything she proposed. She was not just the ballet mistress's daughter and the leading soprano's shadow. She was Meg, the leading ballerina.
"I'm sorry, I do understand" she answered with a gentle smile "And I should not have reacted that way, it's just I guess all the pressure has finally had some results"
"That's all right" Mon. Firmin answered with a sigh of relief.
"And in which scene would this ballet would be situated?" she inquired curiously.
Relaxing visibly, Mon. Andre answered quietly "Before the end of The Point Of No Return"
Meg did noticed that his voice had barely been a whisper, as if he was trying to hide it or keep it a secret. But as the whole cast was observing their discussion, that little sentence didn't past unnoticed and soon the stage was filled with whispers. Meg knew what Christine's reaction would be, she wouldn't be happy that her song would be interrupted by Meg's dancing. And she wasn't wrong.
"What?" Christine shrieked as she walked hurriedly down the stairs. Raoul helped her down the last steps and held her hand as they both marched towards where the managers were standing.
Raoul was visibly tense as well, an unpleased expression written all over his face. They walked with their heads high, oblivious to the rest of the cast. After Meg's confrontation with Christine, she hadn't spoken to her again, although Meg suspected that she had told Raoul everything.
"You can't just ruin my performance!" said Christine, her pretty face flushed by irritation.
"These are the orders we have received, Madame" apologized Mon. Firmin.
"By whom, if I dare ask?" Raoul asked, glancing at the managers accusingly.
"The composer"
Multiple gasps were heard as whispers and rumors spread all around. It was obvious who the author was. Meg felt a wave of warmth flow all over her body. Erik had…he had composed a song for her to dance? Feeling her knees suddenly weaken, she stared at the floor intently trying to stop the world from spinning. She had complained about something he had done for her. She knew that he loved seeing her dance, but to compose a song just for her was something more intimate. Gazing up to see Christine, she saw as the color drained from her face, Raoul quickly pulling her to his chest in a protective manner, as if someone would appear and take her away. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Meg hugged herself in an attempt to calm herself down.
"Is this a joke, Monsieurs?" sneered Raoul coldly.
Suddenly, Mon. Andre's expression changed into one more severe "Not at all, Monsieur Vicomte"
"I will not put my wife in danger" stated Raoul.
"There is no danger" assured Mon. Firmin firmly "And I'm sure after the past events he wouldn't harm your wife nor you, Monsieur."
"He will!" Christine gasped "He'll return and get back at us!"
"I can assure you that that won't happen" stated Mon. Andre "Let me inform you that he has turned himself in and now is currently on probation somewhere out of the city. And he has definitely not shown any sign of trying to harm any of you, not to mention his generous financial gift towards this opera house"
Christine stared stunned to the managers, holding Raoul's jacket tightly. Meg observed quietly from one man to the other, still surprised to hear what Erik had done for the Opera. This had been the place where his dreams had been shattered and still he had donated money for the cause.
"Perhaps you are right…" whispered Christine staring at the floor absently.
"What? No!" Raoul objected as he shook Christine gently by the shoulders "Of course not!"
"Maybe he has changed, Raoul" continued Christine, this time her voice a little bit louder.
Raoul let go of her and stared at her shocked "He is a madman. He will get back at us."
"He is not" objected Christine "He doesn't wants me anymore!"
"How sure you are about that?" Raoul protested "As long as you are near him there's still a chance"
Meg saw Christine give her a quick glance, just to then return her attention towards her husband.
"I just know it" she said softly "The night of the fire everything was over"
Raoul closed his eyes with frustration, and then opening them slowly, he took hold of her hand "I'm still not sure about it"
"You must trust us, Monsieur Vicomte" said Mon. Firmin in a soothing tone "Besides, the police will be present the night of the premiere. Although I can guarantee you that nothing could go wrong"
The stage fell silent, all eyes settled on them. Meg felt her heart beating rapidly, not wishing anything more than to have Erik by her side. The silence grew uncomfortable, until she took a step forward towards Mon. Reyer and grabbed his hand softly.
"Now if you don't mind I would like to hear that song?" asked Meg politely with a tender smile.
His eyes sparkled with gratitude as he smiled "Of course!"
And with that he turned around and walked out off the stage quickly towards the orchestra pit. Meg stood frozen in the same spot, her head flooded with thoughts she couldn't quite comprehend very well. Blinking rapidly trying to clear her mind, she turned around and walked to stand on the center of the stage. As soon as the cast members and stage crew realized what she intended to do, everyone stepped away and cleared the stage, giving her the space she would certainly need. Raoul lifted Christine's hand, kissing it gently before she turned around and walked up the stairs once more to stand beside Auguste. Lifting her head to study the cast, Meg felt a twinge of pride invading her body. They had worked so hard to make the reopening nothing but perfect, and now, although they were silent, she could feel their support towards this new choreography. They did trust and admire her, something that made her feel somewhat loved.
"Please Madame Vicomtess and Monsieur Auguste" He called from the orchestra pit, asking their attention "From the last verse of The Point Of No Return, if you may"
Turning her attention towards Monsieur Reyer, Meg realized that he was already looking at her with an encouraging smile. She nodded and he tapped his baton, calling the orchestra back to where they had stopped. The familiar music soon invaded the whole place, causing the normal chills in the back of her neck. Christine and Auguste began singing as they slowly walked towards each other until they met in the middle of the bridge. Christine still sang with the same passion she had the night of the fire just that her voice didn't sound like it had. Probably it was because she had stopped practicing. Although Auguste put a lot of emotion to his singing, still he wasn't a certain someone who had achieved to bewitch an entire audience. Meg took a step towards the front of the stage, trying to hear the beginning of the new song. But it wasn't a difficult task.
The soft sound of the piano reached her ears unexpectedly, invading her whole body and infiltrating her soul in a moment. She could see as Monsieur Reyer's smile grew bigger at her reaction, and soon, the song had morphed into a completely different one, forcing Christine and Auguste to stop singing. Meg closed her eyes, and lifting her arms, she allowed her legs to move of themselves. She was aware of the whole cast and crew observing her, but in that moment nothing mattered. The song was hypnotizing and comforting, warming her heart quickly. The thought that Erik had written it just drove her to dance harder, her moves soon becoming quicker and more agile. Running from one side to the stage to the other, she made a grand jete, landing near the bridge. From the corner of her eye she could see Christine's stunned expression. But that didn't matter to her. She just wanted to dance and feel his music invading her senses. The song soon reached its crescendo, the sound of the piano even more powerful than any other of the instruments. Moving to stand on the center of the stage, Meg rose to her toes and began doing a fouette, her arms moving gracefully around her as she continued to spin her body rapidly over one foot. Her spins grew quicker and quicker, not realizing that the whole audience were clapping now. After a moment, the music became slower so as her movements did. The only sound that could be heard now was the piano and her soft breathing. Meg circled the stage, eyes closed and arms stretched. Meg bent her body down, supporting it on one leg, while with the other leg extended behind her body she kept that leg's knee straight. Stretching her hand in front of her, she caressed softly the wooden floor and remained still for a couple of seconds.
It was as if she had been dancing completely alone, but from one second to another the whole cast and crew burst into applause. Meg felt her cheeks burning, not only from the effort she had made but because she actually felt embarrassed that everyone's attention had been on her. She straightened, a bright smile appearing on her lips as she turned around and bowed, raising a hand to her heart. It pounded loudly, as if at any moment it would burst out of her chest and her hand would stop it. She turned around to face Monsieur Reyer, a lump forming in her throat when she realized that he was clapping enthusiastically, a proud smile on his lips.
"Brava! Bravissima!" Mon. Firmin ran to her side, grabbing her hand as he place a kiss at the back of her palm.
"You were a vision, Madame" squeaked excitedly Mon. Andre "Truly astounding"
Mon. Reyer tapped his baton repeatedly, and soon the stage fell quiet once more. He looked around, just to then stop and stare at Meg, a gentle smile on his lips.
"That was wonderful, Madame" he said, loud enough for her to hear it "But I would also like to congratulate our temporary pianist, who has showed an incredible talent this morning"
He stretched out his hand towards someone down on the orchestra pit. The man stood from his seat and walked towards Mon. Reyer, his face hidden by the brown cap he wore. But still Meg somehow knew who he was, she would have recognized him anywhere, needless to say that he was the only one who could play the piano like that and make her dance the way she just had. He turned around, his green eyes searching for hers instantly, captivating her.
"Monsieur Jacques Bureau"
Erik had been sitting on the piano bench the whole morning, watching absently the dusty ivory keys. His attention had only been caught the moment Meg entered the stage, dancing with such emotion that made his breath catch in his throat. No matter how many times he had seen her dance before at the Opera and in the studio, somehow he felt it was different now. Not just because he was not hiding up in Box 5 or watching from above in the catwalk. It was because he now knew this woman, and she knew him. Somebody had seen him and known him, not only accepting who he really was, but embracing and cherishing it. His eyes never left her as she danced and jumped gracefully around the stage, captivating every single man present in the room. Later that morning, Christine had showed up in the hand of her Vicomte. Although Erik had expected a shot of pain through his heart or the inevitable pang of jealousy that would flood his body. He wasn't sure if the sound of her voice would bring back all the dark memories, leaving him with all the pain once more, the pain he had managed to forget thanks mostly to Meg. He was tensed, gripping the bench with one hand tightly, afraid of how his body would react when the voice which had captivated and tempted him surrounded him once more. But none of that happened.
The moment Christine opened her mouth to sing, Erik remained still, surprised by his own reaction. Her voice didn't affected him at all, not like it had so many months ago. Yes, she still had a quite beautiful voice, but he couldn't help to notice every single imperfection. He couldn't help but feel disappointed with her every time his expert ear caught an imperfection. So many hours, days and months practicing and molding her voice to be nothing but perfect, and now she had just thrown it away. But what had surprised Erik the most was that her voice didn't cause any feeling inside of him, he felt numb. And somehow, to know that he didn't care anymore was a great relief to him, because he was now sure that his feelings towards Meg were stronger and real.
Earlier that morning, he'd been looking around the stage, but had stopped when his eye caught a glimpse of blonde hair. She was sitting in a corner, observing Christine and the boy who would take his former role as Don Juan. His name was Auguste, he remembered, and although Erik though thought he was young for the role, he still had a nice voice, even better than Piangi's. Returning his attention towards Meg, he observed amazed how truly interested she was in the performance. Her lips were slightly parted with surprise, her eyes wide open as she tried to not miss any detail of what was happening up on the bridge. Erik realized that her interest was genuine, because the night of the fire she hadn't had the opportunity to watch that performance, probably running around doing all the tasks her mother had asked for.
Erik turned around, looking for Maurice, his guard. He spotted him sitting on the front row, observing the performance attentively. He was probably five or six years older than himself, his brown hair hidden under a cap similar to the one Erik was wearing. He had been very polite towards Erik, aware of whom he really was. Apparently he was a musician too; just that he had abandoned his dream when his wife got pregnant with his first child. And since that he had devoted himself to the duty of being a guardian. After a long chat, they had managed to come to an agreement. They would stay in the Giry's house until the night of the premiere, Erik would obey his every order and Maurice would give him the privacy he needed. Feeling a stab of guilt because he would keep this man away from his family for a whole week, Erik returned his attention towards Meg.
He felt his heart beginning to beat faster at the memory of the little moment they had shared together the day before, hidden in the shadows. Erik could still feel her warm body near to his, and to have her so close was only making his desire to kiss her once more even bigger. He watched as she stood up and danced, leading the whole ballet troop around the stage, her hair cascading in her back as she jumped and twirled her cheeks flushed by the effort. He chuckled quietly when she began screaming at the managers, her delicate fists clenched tightly. Although she wasn't terrifying at all, Erik watched amused as the managers cowered in front of the petite dancer, making Erik remember the times she had did the same when they were in Florence. The moment the managers revealed that he had been the one to add one extra choreography, he observed curiously at Meg's reaction, her cheeks getting that pink tint he had become fond of, her eyes sparkling with interest as she glanced around, searching for someone, although he knew that it was him who she was looking for.
When Monsieur Reyer tapped his baton after Meg's nod, Erik began playing, a song he had composed just for her to dance. The music, all too familiar to him, filled his soul, making him feel closer to Meg than he already was. He played with all the sentiment he could, trying to show her that he was here, next to her. His eyes were closed, his fingers moving for themselves across the keys, playing the song by heart. The feeling of leading an orchestra was completely new to him, not knowing before how incredible it felt to be a part of something so big and complex as this orchestra was. The violinists followed every note he played, just as he had imagined it in in his head. He had dreamt of a day when he would be able to be part of music, not behind the score, but sharing the music with other people. Nothing would have ever prepared him for this. It wasn't until he heard the stage burst into applause that he realized that the song was finally over and he removed his fingers off of the piano, turning around searching for Meg. She was glowing with excitement, a dazzling smile on her lips. Erik joined the rest of the cast and crew and began clapping enthusiastically to Meg, an adoring smile playing in the corner of his mouth. But his surprise was even bigger when Mon. Reyer called him, inviting him to stand beside him so everyone could meet him. Erik gave Maurice a nervous glance, who just nodded encouragingly. He stood up, breathing heavily as he approached the conductor's box. Taking a deep breath, he turned around, his eyes instantly meeting hers.
Meg held her breath the moment they eyes locked. Although the only thing she could concentrate on that precise moment was on him, still she was aware of the whispers and murmurs that surrounded the stage. "It's him" "Dear Lord" "What are you talking about?" "Keep quiet!" "He is so handsome"…But Meg didn't care, she didn't care what they were saying, because she couldn't focus on anything but her husband.
"He will be accompanying us until the night of the premiere as our pianist, and I hope that he will feel welcomed" said Mon. Reyer in a severe tone. Well, as severe he could sound.
It was pure luck that no one noticed the intense connection both of them were having at that precise moment. Meg only returned to reality when Mon. Reyer began saying something to Erik, forcing him to look away and back to the old man. Meg felt a hand grabbing hers, taking her by surprise. She looked up to meet her mother's worried expression.
"What's wrong, ma Cherie?"
"It's him, Maman" said Meg in a hushed tone "It's Erik!"
Antoinette smiled "I know"
Meg took a step back surprised "What? Then…why haven't you told me?"
"Those fool managers made me promise not to say a word" Antoinette sighed, a frown in her face.
Meg couldn't help the rush of happiness that came through her body, but then, she realized something "But…what about Christine?"
Antoinette grabbed her hand firmly, pulling her off the stage "If you let Christine ruin what fate has built, you will never be happy…And I won't allow it!"
Meg smiled shyly, chewing her bottom lip "I know, Maman…it's just that I'm afraid that he still cares for her-"
"Marguerite, he can be serious and quiet, but I can guarantee you one thing" Antoinette squeezed her hand "He cares for you. Look at all the things he has done for you, do you really believe he would be doing all of this if he still has feelings towards Christine?"
"You are right, Maman" sighed Meg "I'm just glad that you are here, I really don't think I could manage all of this on my own"
"I will always be here, ma petite" said Antoinette warmly before pulling her in a tight embrace "Now that he is here you have the opportunity to be with him and perhaps you will realize how much he cares about you. And if that doesn't work, then there's no better thing to do than to ask!"
Meg giggled "I suppose so"
Antoinette kissed her cheek soundly "Now go find your husband!"
And with that, Meg disappeared in the shadows of the Populaire in search of her husband. But it wasn't long before she found him, or better said, he found her. Meg was about to run out of the area of the dressing rooms when she collided with the solid wall of a chest. But she wasn't embarrassed or scared, because immediately the familiar scent of roses, candle wax and his own scent filled her nostrils, bringing back memories of the times she had found comfort in his arms. She looked up, meeting his eyes which were sparkling with amusement, the curve of his mouth turning up. She rested her forehead over his chest and without a warning, began giggling. She didn't know why, but she couldn't help herself as the giggles shook her body. Suddenly, she felt his strong arms encircling her waist, the warm and deep sound of his own laughter rumbling in his chest.
Meg looked up, her eyes sparkling with joy. How many nights had she dreamt of being once more by his side? To listen to his laugh? That deep, rich sound which caused funny reactions in her stomach. Suddenly Meg was aware of the change in his face, trying to swallow the gasp at his now reconstructed cheek. She took a step back, resisting the urge to stare at his now new face. She looked into his eyes, surprised when he grabbed her hand firmly, squeezing it gently.
"Would you mind going to my dressing room?" she asked, looking around.
He squeezed her hand, her eyes returning to his. A playful smile tugging from the corner of his mouth "Lead the way"
Meg tugged his arm as she led them both through the new corridor that led towards her dressing room. She mentioned some of the new changes and improvements, his eyes looking around, curiosity and interest written in his expression. Her heart skipped a beat the moment he began caressing the interior of her hand with his thumb, a detail she had missed. Meg remembered the first time they had been out in Florence, he had had the same look that day, just that this time everything was different. They were different. She answered the few questions he had asked about the Opera House, and soon they arrived at the door. Pushing it open, he stepped inside while she looked down the hallway to see if no one had seen him, but it was empty. She turned and closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the silence of the dressing room. Meg let out a relieved sigh and turned back slowly, but before she could say anything, he had her pressed against the wooden door, his tall, lean figure pressed against her whole body.
She didn't even have a chance to react, when suddenly his lips crashed down onto hers, silencing her from what she was about to say. The feeling of his warm, demanding lips upon hers vanquished all the memories of what had happened that morning, his hands and lips making her forget every worry she had felt previously. He reached up to his head, took off the cap and tossed it aside. Meg felt his hand caressing the length of her waist, while the other pressed her even more against him. Her arms curled around his broad shoulders, her fingers stroking his hair, desperate to feel him closer. Erik bent his head to one side, allowing them to breath, but still he didn't let her go. His lips ghosted across her jaw and neck, tracing the warm skin. Meg threw her head back, allowing him to caress the skin of the long column of her throat. After a moment, he raised a hand, placing it over her cheek, caressing it slowly as he leaned down to kiss her once more, a long and leisurely kiss. She sighed content, as he straightened, his green eyes shining in a way that took her breath away.
"I've been wanting to do that since you stepped onto the stage" he whispered against her hair, his breath sending a shiver up her spine.
"I'm glad you did" she giggled.
Erik stepped back, grabbing her hand, and led them towards the couch that was against the wall. He sat down, pulling her down with him. He sighed satisfied, leaning his head against the wall as he laced their fingers together. Meg leaned her head against his shoulder while he rested their entwined hands over his thigh. They remained silent, enjoying each other's company. No words were needed; somehow they knew what the other was feeling. After a moment, he chuckled quietly.
"This is quite comfortable" he breathed, turning his head and pressing his nose against her cheek "Even more than the old bed at the hotel"
She glanced up confused "Hotel?"
"I had to spent the night somewhere, didn't I?" he answered with a smile.
She straightened, resting a hand over his chest "But in a hotel? You could have stayed in our house"
"I couldn't" he sighed distractedly "Those were the orders of the Inspector"
She raised an eyebrow, but it was then when she was able to see his face properly. The faint light of the day revealed the changes she hadn't noticed last night in the tunnel. Where once had been a disfigurement, there were now normal eyelid and nose. She observed amazed the smooth skin that matched the rest of his face, such as the straight bridge of his nose. There were a few pale scars here and there, but aside from all those minor details, he now looked completely and absolutely normal, he was no longer disfigured. Meg felt a lump forming in her throat as her eyes traveled over his face, down the strong column of his throat and down to where her hand was pressed against his chest.
She felt terrible, disappointment invading her body. How she wished to have been there for him during all those days of recovery, to take care of him and look after him. She had made a promise, to never leave him alone, and she had failed him. Suddenly, Meg felt one of his strong fingers under her chin, coaxing her to look up. She met his eyes, filled with warmth and understanding.
"So…how does it look?" he chuckled.
"I think you look ravishingly handsome" Meg smiled, reaching out a hand to touch the new skin "But still, you have always been handsome"
He rose one brow "Oh really? You think I am handsome?"
Meg looked down once again, her cheeks slowly beginning to feel warm "Yes, I mean…you know what I meant…just…oh don't tease me and just tell me what the Inspector said!"
"If so you desire"
Erik smiled triumphantly and pulled her once again to his side, his arm draped around her shoulder lazily as he traced the length of her arm casually. She leaned against his shoulder, the warmth emanating from his skin making her feel comfortable.
"I will be doing social service for the Opera House" he began, his voice unexpressive "Part of my sentence was to grant the rights of Don Juan"
She squirmed beside him and looked up, trying to meet his gaze "And you agreed to that?"
"Yes" he answered soberly "Besides I really don't have any interest on owning such a dark opera."
She smiled gently "I'm glad to hear that"
"The other part of the sentence was to occupy the place of the pianist until the night of the premiere" he continued, his gaze lost somewhere in the wall in front of them.
"Well, if that's all I really think that it's not that hard" Meg admitted happily.
She felt as the arm around her tensed slightly. She looked up at him, wonder in her eyes when she realized that he tightened his jaw.
"They said that no one can know who I really am" Erik whispered tensely as he looked down at her "Not even that I'm your husband"
His expression twisted with emotion, his eyes suddenly filled with regret and frustration. She couldn't look away from his eyes, suddenly afraid to speak. Meg knew why that condition was bothering him, because he didn't want to hide anymore. She knew that he believed that with the reconstructive surgery everything would be all right, that they would be able to live together without anyone saying anything. But then, they had forbidden him to say who he really was. Although Meg was somehow relieved that no one could know that he was the Phantom of the Opera, she knew that he wanted to be with her, publicly.
Setting aside her own feelings, she reached for his hand, marveling at the sudden warmth she felt. He looked down at their hands, his lips pressed tightly. Slowly, he threaded his own finger through hers.
"It will be only for five days, Erik" she told him softly "I will still be your wife after that"
"I know" he whispered "But I thought that perhaps this time would be different, that I would be able to show everyone how much the person I care about means to me…"
Her heart quickened at his words, but still she remained calmed and squeezed his hand gently "Maybe they already know"
"Maybe" he sighed.
She leaned against his shoulder once more, his thumb drawing circles in the back of her hand gently. Suddenly, she spoke.
"Can I ask you one question?" Meg asked shyly.
"You may" he answered, and though she wasn't looking at him, she was completely sure that he was smiling.
Since the day she had fought with Christine, Meg had done nothing more than to worry. Although her mother had assured her a thousand times that there was nothing to worry about, there was something about Christine's confidence that made Meg feel rather nervous and insecure. She was afraid to ask, but if she didn't, she would never find out.
"What will happen…"she began, slowly letting go of Erik's hand "With Christine?"
Erik straightened, turning himself around to watch her carefully "What about her?"
In that moment, there was nothing she would have rather do than to take back what she had said. She shouldn't have asked, she should have kept quiet. She should have, but she had not. Slowly, she stood up and began to pace in front of him, trying to organize her thoughts and find a way to make him understand.
"A few days ago, I talked with Christine…well, perhaps the right word would be discussed" she began, looking at him. He didn't say a word or move a muscle, though his expression twisted with concern "I tried to avoid her the moment I saw her, but still she insisted on talking with me. Somehow I was happy to have my friend back, but then she saw the ring and tried to find out who was my husband. Eventually, she understood that it was you…and suddenly she became angry, trying to convince me that you were dangerous"
She stopped in front of him, his eyes never leaving hers. His expression was filled with pain and concern, waiting for her to continue.
"When she realized that I wouldn't change my mind, she began to tell me about the relationship you had shared, every little detail. I tried to stop her, but still she wouldn't listen to me" she choked, shutting her eyes tightly "I felt even worse when she mentioned something about a wedding ring and…your love declaration"
He closed his eyes, lowering his head. But Meg didn't stop, she was already being honest, so she would say what she really felt "It was then when I began feeling miserable. Why didn't you ever tell me all of what you had made for her? Why had you been different with her? And…why had you admitted your love towards her and you have never done that with me?"
He looked up abruptly, his lips pursed tightly. Erik stood up, walking slowly towards her.
"I wanted you to tell me all of that, not Christine" she whispered through the lump in her throat "And that only made me believe that perhaps…you still had feelings for her"
Erik reached for her arms and shook her gently "How can you believe that? After all I've done?"
"You never…" she choked, tears falling down her soft cheeks "You never said it yourself-"
"I did!" he protested trying to make her look at him "With every detail, what I said, every touch and every glance. I did! I thought you would realize"
"But I wanted you to say it" she whispered "I know it sounds selfish and ridiculous, but that's what I wanted. That just made me believe that you still loved her-"
He let go of her arms and raised his hands to his head, running his fingers through his hair with frustration as he walked to stand in front of the mirror "I don't! I never have! What I felt was not love"
"Then why didn't you say it to me?" she asked desperately.
"Because if Christine's rejection wounded my heart…yours would destroy it completely."
Erik looked at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes piercing through her soul. Meg walked to stand behind his back, lifting a hand and placing in upon his shoulder blade, caressing it gently. He turned around suddenly, trapping her hand with his.
"Erik I'm sorr-"
"No" he stopped her squeezing her hand "I would like to explain myself. Whatever Christine told you, please, do not believe my intentions behind the actions. What I did was a desperate attempt to keep her by my side, although what we had shared had been over before I gave her that ring. And also I would like to say that I have forgotten all about it…"
"So…you don't love her?" Meg whispered looking at him behind her eyelashes.
"No, I never did" he stated shaking his head "That was obsession"
Meg took a step forward, and rising on her toes, she placed a soft kiss in his cheek "Do you forgive me?"
He looked at her confused "For what?"
"For acting like a hysterical, crazy and possessive wife?" she whispered shyly, suppressing a giggle.
"By that's why I married you!" he laughed pulling her close to his chest.
She laughed despite everything and wound her arms around his waist, breathing in the scent that was only his. Although something caught her eye and she leaned back so she could see him straight in his eyes.
"And why are you wearing these?" she asked with wonder touching slightly the material of his brown sweater vest.
He wasn't wearing his formal black attire; instead he had wool pants that matched his sweater vest with a casual white shirt. She glanced up at him with an eyebrow up.
"I need to be unnoted" he said with a smirk as he pulled his vest slightly "Don't you like it?"
"You will never be unnoted" she giggled, turning around and walking towards the door "And yes, I do like it"
She bent down, grabbing his cap from the floor. When she was up, Erik was already beside her with a smirk.
"Let's go, Jacques" She rose to her toes, placing a soft kiss on his lip, just to then put the cap over his head, pulling it slightly from the front "They must be looking for us."