Love Never Dies
"Beneath A Moonless Sky"
Erik:"Reunion"
Today is the day.
Christine would be arriving within the hour, and my battered heart beat wildly in my chest knowing that mere minutes were all that separated us.
All of my dreams, my plans, were at last being realized.
Phantasma's first season could not have gone better. The masses had embraced and fallen in love with it; more so than with the competing parks, Luna and Steeplechase. I had to admit that fact alone thrilled me beyond measure.
It was a success. And in turn, that meant that I was a success.
While I was still quite sore at Giry for her infernal meddling, I could not deny how helpful she had proven to be. Were it not for her determination and patience with the low-life investors, corrupt politicians, and the ever immoral press – Phantasma would still be only a dream within my mind. I did not have the ability to grin and bear it – as Madeline would say – and therefore, would never have gotten anywhere were it not for her.
And Nadir. Affable and infuriating, Nadir. . . .
I had forgotten how greatly I had missed his company. I was quite happy to see how well he was enjoying Coney. He was my friend, and I hoped that he would remain a while, if not indefinitely. Retirement seemed to suit him perfectly here. He lounged during the day, while at night he enjoyed the pleasures of the island. He was the happiest I had seen him since his son Reza's death.
I felt for him.
I too, missed the child. I had none of my own – would never know what it was like to be a father – but I had grown quite attached to the dying child durning my stay in Persia all the same, and I could only glimpse what the child's loss must have been like for Nadir.
People, I have found, are irreplaceable.
We are not interchangeable. Once a person is gone, there will never be another who can take their place. There will never be another Reza for Nadir, just as there will never be another Christine for me. Yet, Nadir had not dealt with Reza's absence in the same manner as I had Christine's. Perhaps it was because he had known that Reza would not be his for long, where I had foolishly believed that she would be mine forever.
How wrong I had proven to be.
A rap upon the door broke my thoughts. I sighed and went to it. I knew the only one who knocked, and did not use the electric bell, was Nadir.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Daroga?" I asked, my lips curved in amusement. Think of the Devil and he shall appear.
Frowning, he pushed his way past me into the room. "I know you are up to something, do not try and persuade me otherwise. All week long you have been unusually happy!"
Smirking, I answered, "What Daroga, can I not be happy on occasion?"
"Erik, do not play me or take me as an ordinary fool! I know you, and I know there is something up your sleeve. Being your friend, and knowing full-well how you operate, I am trying to dissuade you from whatever it is that you have planned."
While I had been cautious not to reveal my plans to anyone, not even Nadir, it appeared as though my buoyant behavior had not gone unnoticed.
"Very well, my friend. I admit that I do have something coming up. As I told you when you first arrived – I want her back, Nadir. I want to show her how I have changed. So, with a little scheming, as you would call it, and money, she will be here in less than an hour."
"What? But, but – how? Erik, my God, what have you done!" He was completely flabbergasted. His naturally tawny skin darkened to a deep shade of fuchsia in his burgeoning anger.
"I said," drawing in a long breath before continuing, "that Christine will be here within the hour. And how? Well, my dear Daroga – all I had to do was offer the right incentive. A one night performance at Phantasma, for a ridiculous sum – which I knew de Chagny would not refuse – and here she comes!" I could not help the smooth smile of satisfaction that curved my lips.
Nadir was silent.
"And as to your last inquiry, I have only done what I must." Turning my back to him, I mumbled, more to myself than to him, "Only what I must. . . ."
"Erik," swallowing before he went on, he walked towards me. "You have no conception of what you have done. None whatsoever! She is a married woman – a mother! She is no longer the sixteen year old virgin you so desired. You have not only jeopardized her life, but the lives of us all! I cannot believe I deluded myself into thinking your talk of getting her back was just that - talk and nothing more!"
While I knew he had valid accusations and points, he was yet again wearing upon my last nerve.
"It will be nothing like before, Nadir. This time history will not be repeating its self."
"Erik, I am not concerned that you will act as you did before, but that you will not!" He sighed and fell heavily into the leather chair he favored. Running his hands through his black hair, taking a steadying breath, he continued, "I know you have changed, anyone can see so. You are not who you once were, as I am sure, nor is she. Time changes us all. What if the woman you find now, no longer resembles the girl you knew? And worse still – what if she does? You know how difficult it was for her to deny you then, and now, being in the position that she is in, I fear she will not be able to resist you."
"You say that as though it were a bad thing, Nadir. So what if she cannot resist me? Why should she!" The insolent child within had surfaced; the one who detested being told what he could and could not have.
"Because she is no longer yours! She has a whole life that will be disrupted because of your obsession! What of the child? Have you even considered him or have you been too consumed with your selfish need not to have thought of anyone but yourself? Things are not as they were. There are others, of whom you must think–"
"Do not – for even a moment – think that I have not contemplated every angle, every single aspect of what I am doing, because I have. And while I am quite aware that it might alter everything, it is simply a chance I am willing to take."
"But the child, Erik – please think of what this could do to him. His whole life could be ripped out from under him! It is not fair that he should have to suffer for you to achieve happiness."
"His whole life changed," I scoffed. "And that would be so terrible, would it?" I asked, glaring. "Was it not you who told me that the boy's father was a drunk, a louse, that his mother was almost killed because of this so called father? And you honestly believe that is better for him? Please," I spat. "de Chagny does not deserve him. Or her – or any of it!" Pacing the floor, completely worked up, I sighed and appealed, "My angel is dying there, I know it. I can sense it. And before long she shall. Can you not see that I can give them more than him?"
"I agree, as of late the Comte has not been the husband or the father that he should be. But sadly, in the end, he is still her husband and still the boy's father. You are not." He said the last with no bitterness, or malice; he was merely stating a fact.
"Yes, unfortunately I am aware of that." How well I knew that I was neither.
Releasing a sigh, I took a seat on the settee across from Nadir, who looked as though he were still judging my reaction to his previous comment, and when he saw no anger, he went on.
"Erik, my dear, dear friend. Please understand that no one wants you to find happiness more than I. But I do not think it fair, or right to sabotage a marriage – a whole family – in order to attain it. I know I said I would help you, but I did not believe you serious."
"Sabotage?" I laughed. "I assure you, I am not. If their unity is so weak that it will crumble from a little . . . . meddling, then how strong of a bond do they truly have? I promise you that I will not force anything upon her ever again. If she stays, it will be because she wants to. Freely – on her own accord. If she does not stay, then it was not meant to be and I will let her go. Forever."
His dark eyes searched mine for a sign of truth, which he must have found, for he relented. "Very well. I can see that no matter what I say, it will not sway you from the course you have chosen. But please, I beg of you, keep in mind the severity of all your actions."
"Keep in mind?" I snickered bitterly. "Daroga, the weight of my actions – every single one – is embedded on my mind. They never leave me. I am haunted daily."
"Do not ask me to participate in any of your schemes, Erik. Do you hear me? I will not; I refuse." He paused a moment, realizing who it was that he was denying, then added, "I am not trying to be harsh, my friend. I simply do not wish to be entangled in your love affairs again."
"Love affairs? As in a plural statement? Ah, yes, because there have been so many of those." I replied sarcastically.
"You know what I meant, Erik."
"Yes, yes I do, Daroga, and I swear to you that you shall not be placed in the middle of my love affairs, as you so call them, however. . . ." I paused, gathering a breath before going on. "However, I might require your help around the hotel and park – seeing as I will be otherwise detained. I will not have the time to devote to the business that is needed, and that is where I am hoping you will come in; there is no one I trust as well."
He smiled quickly, revealing his pleasure at being whom I had entrusted with such a responsibility, but just as quickly his face fell."But what about Madeline, is she not your business manager? Should not she be the one to attend to things while you are . . . detained? I am quite flattered that you asked, but still – what of Madeline? Do you not trust her equally?"
"While Giry has been of much help, handling small affairs, the booking and such, and has proven herself quite trustworthy thus far – she still told de Chagny where I was that night, where Christine was, and that is a betrayal I am not sure I can ever fully forget in order to trust her completely. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do." He seemed both inwardly pleased and sad at the same time. "And I assure you, that I will do my very best to tend to whatever you should require of me in your absence."
"Thank you, Daroga."
His face morphed from a mask of pleasure, to one of severity, and before he could get started in on another one of his lectures, speeches – whatever he was planning on saying next – I interrupted his thoughts."I know, Nadir. I shall always keep in mind how my actions affect others. All right?" I smiled lightly; a smile he returned. "I promise – it will be nothing like before."
My words eased him;he sighed. "I will make no mention of it. From this moment on, Erik, your actions are your own. I shall not interfere, or say a word – as hard as that will prove to be," he chuckled. "Unless you ask."
"You are a very good friend, Daroga, perhaps one that I do not deserve. I thank you." How he stayed around me as long as he had, I shall never know. But I was grateful for it – for him.
Smiling widely, showing teeth yellowed with age, he rose and walked to the door as I followed.
Before he could leave, I warned. "Do not say a word of this to Giry, do you understand?"
His eyes grew large, and he was once again the picture of anything but ease.
"But Madeline will surely find out! How can she not? You know that woman misses nothing. I am sure that if I realized you were up to something, so has she. You cannot actually believe that you can hide this from her?"
"I do not want to hide anything from, Giry. I simply wish to delay her knowledge. When the time comes she will know."
"She will be shocked beyond the telling of it, Erik! Why not tell her now and warn her?"
"I have my reasons, Daroga." That was all I would say. The topic of Giry had come to a close. If Giry knew Christine was to arrive, she would try to stop, disrupt, all the plans I had in motion, and that I could not allow.
"Very well, you must do as you wish. I said I would not lecture and I will not. I only pray to Allah that you find the happiness and love you seek." He said no more. I opened the door, and watched as he walked down the hall.
I knew all of his fears, because they were my own. I knew how valid his concern was, yet I did not care.
Nothing was going to keep me from her.
Not two minutes later, seated at my desk, rifling through papers for the new attraction I had in mind for the park, the electric bell rang, informing me someone was again at the door.
Opening it, I saw the one person I did not want to see.
"Would you like to explain to me what is going on?" Giry demanded, as she pushed her way past me into the suite.
Closing the door behind her, I innocently replied, "I am sure I have no idea what you are referring to, Madeline."
She turned, narrowing her hazel eyes. "Do not lie to me, Erik! Those – those minions of yours have been acting very suspicious all day, and now they have run off with the carriage used for our guests. And you! You have been acting unlike yourself all week. So tell me – what is The Phantom up to now?"
That woman could creep under my skin in the worst way. She knew how much I loathed to be reminded of the title I had once claimed as mine; one Giry reverted to calling me by when she felt the need to get a rise from me. But today, I was not biting.
"Madeline, I admit I have something . . . coming up. A one night event that will leave everyone breathless – a night I am sure you will find quite . . . memorable. But it is something good, of that I assure you." It was a merciful blessing that Giry did not read the papers and was not one to look for the latest news, for if she was, she would know that Christine was not only coming to New York, but to Phantasma – to me. The fact the Comtess de Chagny was going to perform after ten years away from the limelight was not something the press was going to pass up.
Peering into my eyes, she shook her head."I do not believe you, Erik! Your paper thin explanation is not good enough for me. I want to know what is going on and I want to know now!" She was heated, and not about to budge.
"I told you, Madeline. It is a surprise."
"Erik, so help me – I will walk out that door right now, and you shall never see me again, if you do not tell me what is going on!"
I could not have her interfere. I had planned the moment when Christine and I would be reunited, dreamt of it, and I would not have it sullied by her. I would give her just enough to satiate her.
"There is a very brilliant performer who is arriving today, with their family. This artist is to perform in the last show of the season. That is why Squelch, Fleck and Gangle have taken the carriage. They are receiving our guests." Squelch, Fleck and Gangle were my most valued performers and the ones who had been with me all the way back to the side show I had owned and run before coming to Coney; I trusted them to receive Christine.
"Who is this performer?" She questioned suspiciously.
"Someone, who I have no doubt you will agree, has vast talent."
"And what of Meg? You promised that she would star in the last show! And have a fantastic number! Or have you forgotten that?" It seemed that keeping the identity of the performer from her, did not bother her nearly as much as the idea that her daughter would be slighted.
"I have not forgotten about Megan, Madeline – I would never do that. I promised that she would star in the last, most important, show of the season, and I meant it. As we speak she is rehearsing with McKinney in preparation for the show. I guarantee that she will shine. However, it is not fair that she should take every ounce of glory. The performance I have planned will be short and will not take the spotlight from Megan." That was a lie. If Christine did perform, no one would ever remember or care about little Megan Giry; she did not possess an ounce of the musical magic that Christine innately held.
She softened a bit, but not completely.
"I still want to know who it is that will be performing." She was not going to let this go.
"Madeline," I sighed. "Please, for once trust me when I say that it is best left as a surprise."
"Erik, I will not be –" She stopped mid-sentence, as the electric bell sounded informing us there was someone at the door.
Again.
I had more visitors at my door in forty minutes than I had all week.
When I opened the door, there stood Megan, still in costume – a revealing checkered bathing suit – and bright with excitement. I was not sure why she was there; she did not have a scheduled lesson with me until next week.
"Hello, Megan. What can I do for you?"
"My mother's here, isn't she?" Before I could say yes, or no, she burst past me and ran to her mother.
Releasing a long sigh, running my hands through my hair, I closed the door. "Well, now it seems all the Girys are together. I already know why your mother is here, but I'll ask you again, what can I do for you, Megan?"
"Oh, Mother – Master! Did you see? Were you watching the rehearsals? It was fantastic!" She was aglow with delight. "It went so well!" Turning to me, her face the picture of gratitude. "Thank you for writing such a wonderful piece. I love it!" Clasping her hands together like the school girl that she still resembled, she squealed with glee. But just as quickly as her excitement had come, it vanished and concern ruled her. "Was I really all right? I can do it differently, if you wish?" She looked to her mother, then to me, for a sign of approval.
"Meg, dear – we were not there to see but I am sure you were marvelous." Giry lovingly stroked her daughter's face, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"I can't wait for the last show, it's going to be wonderful! The crowds will love it! And then, maybe I'll be–" But before the girl could finish, her mother interrupted.
"Meg, please dear, the master and I have some very important things to discuss." If looks could kill, Madeline's fiery glare – aimed in my direction – would have done so. "Go now. Spend some time with your friends. I shall see you later."
She was not pleased to leave, but did so with her head down, resembling a dog who departs with its tale between its legs.
As soon as the door shut, Giry was upon me.
"Erik I want to know who is coming here to perform!"
"Madeline it is a surprise." She was backing me into a corner, and I was going to have to persuade her; something I did not like to do.
"Have I not been by your side this whole time? Helped you in every way that I could?"
Nodding wearily – once she got started, she was not easily swayed – I walked into the Versailles styled sitting room and poured a glass of scotch. The warm elixir immediately soothed my irritated nerves.
"Meg and I have aided you with all that we can, with everything you have ever asked of us. It was us who helped you escape Paris, us who helped you buy that side show, and it has been us who has stood by you through it all. For all of that, I deserve your respect. And respect, Erik, is not toying with me!"
She was right. She did deserve respect, and while I felt bad for toying with her, I would not allow her to mar my long awaited reunion. Later, once I explained everything to Christine, I could care less what Giry would say or do. I knew I had to get Giry out of the picture, send her away for a while. I had hoped that she would not have caught on until later, that she would have been too occupied with work to notice, but that was not the case.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I do respect you, but I will not say who is arriving." Smiling, I revealed, "But I do have an extremely important task I need you to complete for me."
"An errand? You are still toying with me, and you expect me to run to do your bidding? I do not think so, Erik. I am leaving, I am taking Meg and we are leaving. You can handle it all on your own!"
She turned quickly on her heel, her crimson hair, usually pinned up, was down and fell over her shoulders as she made for the exit. I had to admit she was quite attractive for her age.
Before she could open the door, I took her by the arm and gently halted her.
"Madeline," I purred. I knew when I wanted it to be my voice was a powerful tool. I hated to coerce her, but I had no choice. "Please," I urged her, my voice deep, soft, lyrical velvet. "I need you to do this for me. Beckman has been ill and cannot make it here to inspect the business's progress. He wants a face to face meeting. You know you are the only one he likes. He owes us money, I want it Madeline, and I want you to get it for me." It was not a lie. I had heard from Beckman, and he did require a meeting, but I was planning on sending Giry, when the two new attractions I had under construction were complete. The trip to Beckman, our backer, however, would have to be done now.
Her cream colored cheeks, with their pale freckles, turned scarlet as I turned her around to face me.
"Please, Madeline. You shall be home in a few days time, not too long a journey, and I assure you that you will be back before the closing performance."
"No, Erik I cannot –" But her resistance was waning.
"You know how I feel about your position as manager, and how brilliant I think you are with the business. And yes, I agree. The only reason I am where I am today, is because of you." My voice was filled with a melodious seduction that had proven time and time again to be irresistible. "I am asking you again now, to please do this for me, as only you are able."
Her emerald eyes that gazed into mine were glassy, hazy and unfocused, a tell-tale sign that she was about to heed to my demand.
"Yes, I – yes, all right – I will do it!" Breathlessly, she snatched her arm from my grasp, her eyes beginning to clear, as she spoke. "But I am only doing this because you are right. Beckman does not like you, and I am not about to lose his money. I am going for the good of the park, for the good of its future, and not for you!"
Still flustered, she made for the door, opened it and said, "You are lucky that I have put as much of my own heart and soul into this place as you. If I had not, I would not travel all the way to Boston! And," she came closer, pointing her slim finger in my face, "I expect you to behave while I am gone."
I laughed. "Yes, Mother."
She scoffed and her mood brightened, "Mother! I think not!"
"Yes," I smiled cynically. "I fear no one wants that title – even its rightful owner."
"Erik, I did not mean–"
"No, Madeline, I know you did not mean any harm with your words. And I want you to know how very much I appreciate all that you have done for me. No matter what should ever happen I will be forever thankful." I meant it with all honesty.
My words pleased her and she smiled. "You can drive me near mad on occasion, Erik. But if I did not believe in your genius, I would not be here."
"Thank you, Madeline. I'll be sure to let Beckman know you are on your way."
"Yes, do that. I am sure, no doubt, that Beckman will be thrilled. The poor man, even with all his money, it seems as though he has no one to confide in. Every time we meet, he never shuts up!"
She laughed, as did I. Then she was gone and instinctively, I pulled the watch from my pocket and gazed at the time.
Twenty minutes. . . .
I had thought that nothing but excitement would claim me in the moments spent waiting to see her again, but fear and anxiety were outweighing it.
I dressed, careful to ensure every article of clothing was in place. I had always been a meticulous dresser, but I found that on this day, I was obsessed with looking my best.
Then I laughed.
Gazing at myself in the mirror, I realized how absurd I was acting. Why should I care how well I looked? After all, no matter how impeccably I was dressed, the white mask would always take center stage.
Then I remembered who it was that I was worried about looking my best for.
Christine.
The only one, who had ever genuinely proven to me that my revolting looks, did not matter.
She saw past it all.
From my desk, I lifted the gift I had made for the child – and his mother, no doubt she would remember, and slipped from my suite, using the secret passage I built during the hotel's construction. As much as I loathed being reminded of my days as the Phantom of the Opera, old habits, I had learnt, do not die easily. I simply could not resist crafting a hidden passage behind the wall length mirror within my bedchamber. Through the deceptive mirror, and the hidden halls beyond, I was able to access any section of the hotel. Each door required a specific key to open it. I would never again make the mistake of leaving access open for any inquisitive mind to stumble upon. I felt in my pocket, making sure the onyx and garnet rose topped key was still there; it was.
One of the many marvels of electricity was the elimination of fire as light. Gone were the torches from the walls, replaced by electric lights. It made things all the simpler. Within moments, I was upon the door which would open to the suite Christine was going to occupy. Inserting the key, I watched as the two-way mirrored wall swung open into the sitting room.
I walked about the suite quickly, positive that every item was as it should be, placed the music box upon the piano – fitting since the toy was a child playing a piano – then I went back through the mirror, closed it, and waited.
I did not have to wait long.
From where I stood hidden behind the glass, I had a perfect view of the entering family.
While I had sworn that I would not fail, that this time around it would be me whom she chose, I could not prevent the sharp pang in my heart as I saw them all together.
It was only momentarily however, for as soon as de Chagny opened his mouth and spoke, I felt nothing but disgust. I could not believe the tired, worn out and aged man that I gazed upon was ever the youthful boy who had nearly bested me.
Drawing my attention from de Chagny, the child fled to the piano, and lifted the toy music box. Immediately, he was taken by it, as I knew he would be. He did not seem to see the small note I had placed beside the trinket, informing him that the gift was indeed for him. His high spirit was quickly extinguished, as the frightened girl who traveled with them, anxiously inquired about a way out. She did not appear at all at ease in Phantasma; it was not meant for everyone.
They left and the first to make their way back to the sitting room was de Chagny. He went for the brandy, poured one, immediately followed by another, and then another. I watched him pace about the room, mumbling complaints about the atrocity of the situation. His displeasure was highly enjoyable to observe, it certainly made due for entertainment while I waited for Christine's return.
An hour later, they returned and I had to clench my fist at my side as I as listened to the way he spoke to her. The instinct to snap his unworthy neck, so strong it took all my self control to quell it.
Before long the boy was back at the piano, the music box again in hand. Gaining his parents' attention at last, I watched as the significance of the object dawned on their faces. That was all de Chagny could stand, and finally he left.
My heart went out to the poor child as I listened to him question his father's love. I knew what it was like, to doubt the love of a parent, and no child should ever have to endure such an uncertainty. But unlike me, he had one parent who quite obviously loved him. My beautiful girl was a marvelous mother. She was made for it. I had never seen her glow like she did when she was near the boy. A tiny amount of jealousy passed through me – I so wished that it were I who could have given her a child, tying her to me permanently, and not de Chagny.
The boy left with the young girl – the maid, I presumed – and I watched as Christine eyed the sheet music for the aria I had written solely for her and begin to sing.
I could have easily died happy in that moment.
When she was done, she picked up the music box, wound it again, and paled as she heard the familiar tune. Hastily, she made her way from the suite out onto the balcony.
It was then that I slipped from the shadows.
Noiselessly, I made my way to her, and the nearer I drew, the more intensely my heart raced. She was so exquisite; age had only caused her beauty to increase. The distance of ten long years about to be bridged – I could reach out and touch her if I chose–
She spun around, facing me. She showed no sign of shock, but instead I saw comprehension. Slowly, she stepped backward, her hand out-stretched, warding me off. Yet, like the moth, who is irresistibly drawn to the deadly flame, I went to her. She continued to back up, clumsily making her way into the suite.
"I should have known that it was you!" She shook her head. "I should have known it all along! This entire affair bears the Phantom's mark!"
I winced at the mention of my former title. She was angry, and I could not blame her. After all, it was I who had abandoned her.
"Christine." For a moment it was all that I could breathe; her proximity overwhelming my senses.
I grew closer, and when I was within reaching-distance, she ran to the opposite side of the piano.
"I cannot do this with you, Erik! I have a life!" She hissed.
I tried to move to her side again, but again, she shied away.
"Please, Christine let me explain!" I plead as I sprang forward, taking hold of her by the waist, causing her to lose her balance and her backside to press upon the ivory keys of the piano, playing out a discordant tune of denial. Though she struggled for freedom, I would not let go.
"Erik, please I am begging you – do not do this!" She cried, still attempting to escape my grasp.
"Listen to me, Christine! Please listen!" I shook her, angry. If she would stop fighting for one moment I could expla–
Before I could finish the thought, I was slapped.
Christine had slapped me.
In my shock, I nearly released her, but the sight of her flushed face, and full lips, kept my hands firmly rooted in place.
"That was uncalled for."
"That was uncalled for?" She spat, still squirming in my arms. "And what about all that you have done to me? What of that, Erik!" Her usually downy voice was raw and harsh with fury.
I had never witnessed her so livid before, and had also never seen her look as lovely.
"If you stop fighting me for a minute, and promise not to run, I will tell you everything."
The tigress in my grasp was not willing to relent. "There is nothing for you to explain, for there is nothing that you could ever say that would make what you did right!" The volume of her voice had started off low, no doubt not wanting to rouse the boy, but now it was reaching a crescendo.
"I suggest you lower your voice, my love. Or perhaps you wish for your son to come upon us in such a – well, how would one say it – state?"
She blanched at the mention of the boy. "No, no I do not. Now please, let me go!"
"Only if you will allow me to talk before you flee."
She went soft in my arms, no longer resisting; my hold upon her eased, yet I never wanted to let go.
"Say what you must, Erik and I shall listen, but do not believe that it will alter anything!" She warned.
I knew she was lying. I knew that she could feel the electrical force that pulled us together, and wanted to give in to it as much as I.
"I will however, let you explain." She added softly.
"What a pity." I grinned, running my hand up the length of her arm. "I was enjoying the fight."
I released her and watched as she flushed an even darker shade of crimson, bringing her hand to her heaving chest, backing away.
"Erik, say what you must and then leave." She had turned cold again; no longer the flame but a destructive glacier.
"You remember that night, do you not, Christine?" Cautiously, I moved closer, and noticed that she did not back away; she was lost in the memory of a night, I knew, neither of us would – could – ever forget.
"Yes, she breathed. "That night. . . ." Her eyes were glassy with remembrance.
"The eve of your wedding?" The comment came out more venomous than I had intended. I knew it was I who had left her, but that she could – the next day – marry him, tore at me.
"Yes, Erik – I remember." She was back, her focus clear and cold. "As if I shall ever be able to forget?"
"Do you wish to forget, Christine?"
Her icy resolve held firm. "Yes, I do wish to forget. But I am cursed – for I cannot." She sighed. "You still haunt my every moment."
"And you, mine."
She scoffed. "Do not play me for a fool, Erik. You left, remember? Why should my existence concern you at all? It has been over ten years and not a word from you. Yet you say that I haunt you. If that were the case, you would have sought me sooner."
She could not possibly believe what she was saying. . . .
But she did – it suffused her toffee colored eyes.
Hate.
She loathed me for abandoning her.
"You cannot possibly think that I had any other choice but to leave?"
"Didn't you?" Asked the ice queen.
"No, of course I did not!"
I grabbed her, drawing her body to mine, and ignoring her protests, I silenced her argumentative mouth with my own. Her lips hardened under mine, but I would not release them. I had waited so long to kiss her, and before I could process another rational thought, she was kissing me back – returning my ardor with that of her own. I ran my hand up her back where I wound it in her silken hair. My free hand roamed the length of her, once again lost in the bliss of exploring the softness of her curves. I allowed her lips to break free of mine, to draw in a ragged breath, then standing the separation not a moment longer, I drew her back to meet my demanding mouth.
I heard a sweet moan escape her and I never wanted the moment to end.
I was home. She was my home.
Then, as though being suddenly awoken from a comforting dream of warmth by frigid cold, her lips left mine and my yearning body was thrust backward.
Gasping and moving away, her arms out, again warding me off, the ice queen had returned. "How dare you try and claim me now!" She raged. "How dare you come and invade my life like this! What makes you think you have such a right? What, Erik – have you tired of whomever is your protégé now?"
Before I could object and assure her that there was no one but her – it had always been her – she went on.
"Perhaps when I was a stupid child, I would have come running back, but not anymore, Erik. I am no longer yours."
"Christine, how could you even – Of course there is no one – How could you ever think –" I could not articulate, I was stuttering – a thing I never did. I drew in a steadying breath, and tried again. "There is only you! There will only ever be you! Can you not see that I left because I loved you, because you deserved better than the man I was then, than the life that would have been yours? But that is why I have brought you to me now. I have changed. It has taken me ten torturous years to do so, but I am at last where I need to be. The cards have been rearranged, my love – fate has given us another chance. Everything has changed. But my love for you – that has never changed. I love you, Christine."
She stood frozen, and I watched as her chocolate eyes welled with tears and one slid down her porcelain face. "But you left, Erik. You left me. . . ."
I ran to her and rested her lavender scented head on my shoulder. "I know I did, my girl – but only because I had to." Pulling her away from my shoulder, I looked into her eyes and repeated, "Only because I had to." I needed her to understand, to see that I had no choice.
A final tear fell from her eyes and not another. She stepped from my embrace.
"I loved you, Erik. I would have followed you anywhere you asked me to. And the agony of awakening to find that you had abandoned me . . . I would not wish such a pain on anyone."
"I know I hurt you, my love – but I had to. Can you not see that it was you who gave me the strength to leave?"
She shook her head, still not comprehending.
"You will soon see all that I have accomplished here, all the wonders I have created – can share with the public – all because of you. All of it, every single thing that I have done, has been for you! I have truly changed, Christine, and I have you – the gift of your love, the hope of one day being worthy of you – to thank for it."
"Yes, Erik – just from the marvels I have seen so far in this hotel, I applaud you. But then, I have never doubted your genius. Your intentions, however. . . ." She let the sentence die in the air.
"I know that I have wronged you in the past, but that was then – I was different. What of now?"
"For us, Erik . . . there is no now." She sighed, bowing her head in defeat. "Once upon a time – there was a chance that perhaps things would have gone differently, but it was you who decided to throw that chance away, not I."
"But that was then, Christine –what of now, you still have not answered me."
"Yes, I have. I told you – there is no future for us. Now or ever. There cannot be, Erik. We have made choices – I have made choices – and they cannot be undone."
"You are right. No matter how much I wish I had the ability to reverse time, I cannot. But I do not want to waste another moment without you. I need you. And I know you need me." Reaching out, I placed my hand on her rising chest. "You have my heart, Christine. It is entangled within your own, and I want it back. It shall never be mine without you; it belongs to you."
Her ragged breath, blew sweet and warm upon my face. Her lips brushed mine and when I went to claim them, I heard him.
"Mother, I had another dreadful nightmare!"
Immediately, upon hearing the boy's voice, I extracted myself from his mother and moved to the side.
"Gustave!"
"What a dreadful dream, it was so awful, Mother!" He was already in her embrace.
Christine held the child and soothed, "There, there now, Gustave." The boy, who was so distraught over his dream, did not seem to notice my presence. "Someone I couldn't see was drowning me!"
Christine, already pale by the sudden appearance of the boy, grew shades whiter as he spoke.
"Hush, my darling – it was only a dream." She was highly bothered.
"I know Mother, but it felt real."
"There is nothing to fear, my love, for I promise I shall never let any harm come to you. Ever." She vowed, rubbing the platinum hair from his face, and kissing his forehead.
The golden child smiled and hugged his mother, seeming more at ease.
Glancing my way, then back to her son, she said, "Darling, I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine." Anxiously, she turned the child my way. "Gustave, meet Mr. Whye."
The child eyed me, and just like his mother – his natural beauty astounded me.
He was perfect.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." His voice was high and lyrical.
Just like his mother's.
"Welcome to my world, my friend."
"This place is yours?"
Grinning, I leaned down to his level, and whispered. "Every inch of it."
The child was elated. It appeared as though at least one of my new guests was enjoying Hotel Phantasma.
"Whatever you would like to see, I can show you. Any wish you so desire, simply name it and it shall be yours."
He was hesitant to answer at first, but then his eyes lit – the color within seemed to lighten, and he whispered, "Can you show me Phantasma? All that's wild and dark?"
"Gustave, please – Mr. Whye is a busy man and I am sure he has no time to–"
As the boy's eyes again darkened, I interrupted. "Of course I shall take the young Comte." I smiled, noting that the boy no made outward notice of my mask.
"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!" His perfect face was bright with joy. Then, as if remembering his mother, he turned to Christine and asked, "That is all right, isn't it Mother?"
My poor girl resembled a cornered animal, one with no way out but to submit. "Yes, yes of course it is all right, my love." She flashed him a weak smile. "But tomorrow – now you must return to bed."
"Yes, Mother." He smiled, kissed her cheek and bowed to me. "Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight. I will find you tomorrow and together we shall see it all."
"Thank you, sir!" He smiled enthusiastically and hurried off down the hall. The moment his door could be heard shutting, the tension in Christine's body left.
She could not possibly think that I would ever harm the child?
"You do not have to take him, Erik. I can tell him that you were unable."
"There's no need. I want to take him." As much as the existence of the boy bothered me, there was something about him I enjoyed.
She was still troubled. "No, Erik – you cannot possibly – I mean, surely you do not have the time–"
"But I do. Please, Christine. I would like to know your son. He is after all, a part of you."
"Very well, Erik." She relented – suddenly appearing worn thin. "You must do as you will." I could not understand her discontent; I was simply going to show the boy around. "You will find him," she added, "very observant, highly intelligent and unlike other ten year olds his age."
"I can see that he is not simple, Christine."
Once again, her sorrow filled eyes welled. "You will fall in love with him . . . of that I am warning you."
"That is good. For with the love that I feel for his mother, I do not doubt that I shall come to love him, as well."
Silence.
I moved towards her. Her eyes closed in pleasure as I came up and encircled my arms around her slight waist.
"Please, Erik – you must leave now. I do not know when Raoul will return, but he will. He always does." She said the last sadly.
"Can I come to you tomorrow, angel?" I could feel her attempting to resist, but her stampeding heart, hot breath and responding body, won out. "Yes." It was a sultry purr; her eyes still closed in intoxication. The arousal I felt as she arched her back against me, turning her head to graze my neck with her searching lips, was unparalleled to anything I had felt before. I had to see her tomorrow . . . the two of us . . . alone. . . .
"Tomorrow, my love. Tomorrow." I promised, my voice raw with want.
I pulled the mass of curls to one side, and kissed the back of her neck. Before she could open her eyes, I was gone.
I watched through the glass a moment as she looked about in surprise, and standing her beauty no more – I walked away, and never wished more for the dawning of a new day as I did in that moment.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow. . . .
*Author's Note:
Thank you all so much for sticking through with the story. I know it took me over a month to update, and I'm so sorry for leaving you all on a cliffhanger – that was mean, lol! I have every intention of finishing the story. I'm still not sure how it's going to end. It's up in the air as of now. So yes, my apologies for the delay, but as long as you guys keep reading and reviewing – I'll be writing ;)
Special thanks to my amazingly awesome beta Grayskies29: You. Are. The. Shit. ;p*