I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart. Luthien, my ever faithful beta, I wish you all the best. Danke für deine Hilfe, du bist fantastisch!

MAKING UP IS HARD TO DO PART 2

Once their friends were out of the room, an awkward silence fell upon them. Joséphine turned her head away again, for she did not want him to see her insecurity. For a moment, both were lost in their memories, reliving the past months and everything that had brought them up to this crucial point in their relationship.

Neither of them noticed that they had never stopped holding hands.

Finally, Joséphine took a deep breath and looked back at her husband. Their eyes met, and Joséphine was once more astonished by the raw emotion she saw in Erik's golden ones. Yet, she was unsure how to read it. She wanted to know what Erik had to say about what she had witnessed between him and the Vicomtesse at the ball, but on the other hand was terribly afraid to learn the truth. So, she chose to inquire about her stepmother, still astonished by what her maid had told her earlier.

"Is it true, what Mathilde told me about Clara?" she asked him softly.

"Joséphine, at the ball, I..." Erik, choosing to start at the same time, needed a moment to understand that Joséphine had asked about something else. Although he had rather get this misunderstanding out of the way, he understood her reluctance, and obliged her wish.

As he did not know how much Mathilde had told Joséphine, he asked:

"Is it true that she tried to poison her stepdaughter? Yes, it is. That this vile woman fed you arsenic during the last few days? Yes, it is. That, in her unbalanced state, she risked other people's lives in her desperate attempt to finish yours?"

Erik sensed that he was talking himself into a rage, but he couldn't prevent from feeling a deep and burning anger when he was even thinking about Clara. Too late did he notice how his rather blunt approach on this matter had affected Joséphine, for she had let go of his hand and now had a tight grip on the blanket and a frightened look in her eyes.

"Oh Joséphine, I am sorry, I did not mean to scare you, I just assumed that Mathilde had informed you about..." he started, but Joséphine brought him to a halt by reaching for his hand again. Erik could not help but being grateful once more that, despite everything that had happened these last 24 hours, she still was touching him so willingly.

In his desperate quest for love, he had convinced himself that, as recompense for how the world had treated him, he deserved someone's love, and especially Christine's, whose love and affection he had felt to have rightfully earned by teaching her and protecting her while she grew up in the opera house.

But now, even though he wanted nothing more than for Joséphine to love him and take him back, he was unsure if he even deserved her love.

Joséphine's voice roused him from his thoughts.

"Yes, she told me, but it is still hard for me to believe that she was capable of doing all this. I wonder if I am at least partly responsible for all of this by defying her and taking the money away from her just days before it would have finally been hers," she mused.

Erik froze. He snatched his hand away from her, making her look at him in bewilderment, not knowing what had come over him.

"You mean everything would be fine if you had not married me?" he spat, all too ready to give into the well-known rage caused by rejection.

Joséphine's eyes widened. Why did he always have to be so sensitive and so quick to be angry?

"No, Erik, that was not what I said, and certainly not what I meant!" she chastised him.

He looked at her, his golden eyes blazing.

"Don't you think that it would have been easier if we hadn't had to deal with Clara's jealousy at all, too?" she beseeched him.

Erik knew she was speaking truthfully, but it was still all too easy for him to fall into this old habit of distrust, looking constantly for the worst in everyone.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"If you had not stood up to her, which was your right to do, we never would have met," he said slowly, his voice but a mere whisper.

'...And you would have never had to go through all this pain,' he added mentally.

Joséphine gave him a sad smile, which made him wonder if she had guessed what he had been thinking.

"Mathilde told me that she is at the hospital, but under guard, since she confessed everything," she continued, unwilling to ponder on 'what if's'.

Erik nodded.

"Why did she go through all this trouble and then confess so shortly before obtaining her goal?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Erik, what did you do?"

"What makes you think I did something?" he asked her, his voice giving nothing away.

"Mathilde said you were at the hospital, and that she confessed in your presence," Joséphine replied. "And well...when I asked you..there was a look on your face that was...you did not harm her, did you?" she demanded.

The corners of his lips tilted upward; he was impressed that she could read him so easily even with half of his face hidden under the mask.

"No, I did not," he finally answered. "I merely used some of my rather unique talents to make her confess."

Joséphine waited for him to elaborate, but Erik shook his head. "It is not important that you know how, Joséphine, but believe me, I did not harm her in any way."

"Why not?" she questioned him.

"I would have gladly killed her, and a few months back, I would have done it without scruples."

"Then what changed?"

"You made me change," Erik admitted quietly.

Joséphine opened her mouth to reply, but Erik continued.

"The night you found me, my world had broken apart. I had lost everything, my home, my music, the woman I thought I loved," he explained, looking carefully for his wife's reaction at the mention of Christine. He saw her flinch, but otherwise she gave nothing away.

"You asking me to marry you was definitely surreal," he professed. "But at the time this marriage seemed quite convenient for the both of us."

Joséphine held her breath to keep herself from trembling. She dreaded what he would say next.

"But I want to stop this pretence now."

As Joséphine's eyes filled with tears, Erik realised his mistake. Quickly, he rose from his kneeling position to sit down next to her on the bed, then took her hand in his, lifting it up to place gentle kisses on it.

Joséphine looked at him unbelieving, her expression doubtful and lost.

"Oh Joséphine, forgive me, I..." he struggled to find the right words, "...I am at a loss how to express what I feel for you." Slowly, he took off his mask, baring himself before her both physically and emotionally.

"What I meant is that I want to be your husband, not just on paper, and I wish nothing more than for you to be my wife. No more pretences, no more secrets, no more hiding behind masks between you and me. I love you, Joséphine."

Joséphine wanted desperately to believe him, but doubts about the sincerity of his feelings were still nagging at her. She knew she could no longer avoid confronting him.

"What about Christine?"

Erik knew that now more than ever he had to choose his words carefully. "She's in the past, and of no importance for what I want my future to be. A future with you, if you will have me."

"But I saw you with her. It did not seem like she meant nothing to you," she accused him, new tears welling in her eyes.

"I am so sorry. I never should have gone to that ball. I should not have needed the confrontation to know that I am no longer interested in her. I should have listened to my heart, not to my brain," Erik admitted.

"And yet you call yourself a genius," his wife replied dryly, making him cringe.

"It was one of the most stupid things I have done," Erik admitted grudgingly. "And I have done foolish things in the past."

'Like abducting a woman and threatening her fiancé so that she might marry me, or causing the fire in the Populaire by crashing the chandelier.'

"I really want to believe you, Erik, but...it hurt so much to see you with her, and when I look at you now, it's..." Joséphine broke down, sobbing uncontrollably now.

"I never meant to hurt you so much, Joséphine, please, believe me," Erik pleaded, distraught by her display of emotions. "I know how it must have looked like, my love, but I really did not kiss my former pupil," he told her, avoiding mentioning Christine's name. He wanted desperately to make her feel better, but he was not sure how to accomplish that. Grabbing a tissue from the bedside table, he handed it to her.

She took it gratefully, and tried to compose herself somewhat. "Then tell me what happened."

"You remember that she recognized me when we presented us to the newly-weds?" Erik began.

"Yes."

"I had to talk to her, if only to make sure that she would not tell on me and betray my identity to the Vicomte, so I met her outside on the terrace."

Erik paused, recollecting this dreadful moment, gazing towards to window. "Did you know that in all the time I spent tutoring her, she never even asked my name?" he asked rhetorically.

"She was about as surprised to hear that I had a name as she was to learn that I was married. She was pouting, seemingly disappointed that I had moved on. It was then that I finally saw her for who she really was. A little girl not content with having gotten her prince, but demanding the monster's affection too."

"You are not..."

"I am not a monster, I know," Erik interrupted her objection, looking down affectionately at his wife. "But that I feel like a man, cherished and loved, is solely because of you."

Erik had to fight not to smile when he saw Joséphine blush at the compliment. "As I said," he continued his account, "the fact that I was no longer interested did not bode well with her. And...well...before I knew it, she was pressing her lips on mine. Which was when..."

"When I stepped onto the terrace to get some air," Joséphine finished his sentence, a pensive look on her face.

Erik nodded, watching her closely, trying to guess how she would react now that she knew what had happened.

"Clara offered me some punch right before she recommended I step outside to get some fresh air," Joséphine told him solemnly. "I can't believe that she behaved so nicely toward me when she was poisoning me at the same time."

"Joséphine..."

"But you made her confess, and she won't come back, right?"

Erik nodded, bewildered by her agitation.

"Can you promise me? Promise me that she will not intrude on our life again?"

"I promise," he replied sincerely, taking her hand. "And if you let me have any say in this matter, no harm will ever come to you whatsoever, now and for the rest of your life."

Joséphine gazed down at their joined hands, noticing the wedding band on her own, and the unadorned fingers of his. Slowly, her gaze rose to meet his. She was amazed at how vulnerable he looked right now, not because he was not wearing his protective mask, but because of the look in his eyes.

He really was unsure if she believed him, if she still wanted to be with him after all this, she realised with astonishment.

Did he not know that she would have wanted to be with him even if he had only decided to stay with her in case he had not won over Christine? True, it did not speak well of her self-esteem if she settled for being his second choice, but who cared? Especially now as it turned out that she wasn't his second, but his first and only choice. He loved her, not the Vicomtess. Her!

Joséphine rejoiced inwardly, trying hard not to beam up to him and pull him down for a kiss. But no, she would make him wait a little while longer, waiting on pins and needles for her answer. For the kiss she had witnessed may have been forgiven, but not forgotten.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Do people already know about Clara? What will happen once it gets out that she's the culprit?"

"Well, I...I don't know. I guess the truth is bound to be found out. She admitted her crimes after all in front of witnesses."

"Maybe those can be bought. And then...we will get her to a sanatorium, telling everyone that she has caught the same illness I suffered from, and no one has to know what she did," she said, her voice sounding panicky.

Erik's expression grew stern. "She tried to murder you, and you care about her reputation?"

"Don't you understand Erik? If it comes out what Clara did, people will look at us differently. No one will say anything directly to our face, but they will treat us differently. I am not going to be a social outcast just because my stepmother has gone mad!"

He looked at her doubtfully. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Overreacting? People are cruel, and you know it, even better than I do. Don't tell me that you have forgotten how people treated you simply because of the way you look."

Erik shook his head, suddenly ashamed that he had accused her of being too emotional. He remembered all too well all those moments.

"I will do what I can to hush things up. I can go right back to the hospital, if you want," Erik said resolutely, about to get up from the bed.

Joséphine held him back, grasping his hand. "Later, Erik." She almost smiled at the look he gave her, but tried her best not to show her feelings.

"Sit down, I am not finished with you," she told him, her tone neutral.

Erik did as she said, bracing himself for a potential rejection.

"Tell me, what will happen the next time you see Christine? What if she tries to charm you again?"

Erik shook his head. "I won't give her another chance to ambush me. And if you do not trust me on that, I will stay away from any social gatherings where she will be present."

"Erik, that is ridiculous. I will not let you hide from her and give her the satisfaction to think she still has some thrall over you."

"But..."

"No, Erik. If you want this..." she motioned between the two of them, "marriage to work, you will not hide in the shadows any longer, and you will meet her with your head held high, and by my side," Joséphine told him fiercely, her tone challenging.

Erik did not know what to say to that, so he simply nodded his head.

Something else then occurred to her, and she had to know if her husband had also heard the rumours. "At the ball, I heard..." she paused, wondering how best to phrase what she wanted to tell him. "There were rumours about Christine being pregnant."

Once more, Erik nodded, his expression unreadable for her. "I know, the f...Raoul told me when he was here last night."

"How do you feel about it?" she asked him tentatively.

He took a moment to consider his answer. "It is certainly good for them, and I think they will be happy together, but truthfully, it also makes me a little sad."

Joséphine stilled. "Why? Because her child won't be yours?" she asked, clearly offended.

Erik gave her a look that said 'Well, isn't it obvious?', but when she did not react, he explained. "No, of course not. I never even thought about having children with her, or anyone else, for that matter."

Misinterpreting her relieved sigh, he elaborated. "But it saddens me that I will never have the joy of being a father."

"Erik, I do not intend to stay a virgin in this marriage," she told him.

He actually looked embarrassed. "You know what I am talking about, Joséphine, and you can't deny that you feel the same."

"Apparently I do not, and I have no idea what you are talking about," she told him, getting impatient with his delicate wording.

Erik motioned towards his face. "I was born like this. How can I do this to a child?" he stated, his voice and expression equally guarded now.

Comprehension dawned on Joséphine. Of course he had never thought of having children on his own. She opened her mouth to reply that it did not matter to her, but closed it again to really think about it. Would she love a child that was born with the same deformity as his father, or an even worse one? Of course she would, she loved Erik. Would she prefer an unharmed child? Of course she would.

Even in her upper-class circles, where money and a title could get you very far, and make people forget some of the flaws you had, a child with a deformed face would not lead an easy life and be confronted with myriads of problems. But it could always be sure of his mother's love and support. No matter how her child looked, she would love it unconditionally. So would Erik, wouldn't he?

"If our child was born with a deformity, would you neglect it as your mother did, or would you make sure it felt loved and cherished?

His answer came quickly. "How could I not love a child that is yours?"

"So even if our child happens to come after his father, it is sure to have it's parent's love and affection," she concluded, hoping he would realise what she meant by it.

Erik looked at her doubtfully. "Surely you cannot..."

"...love a child that is yours?" she interrupted him, no longer able now to hide her smile. "Tell me again why you call yourself a genius." At his lost expression, her smile turned into a laugh. "My God, Erik, I love you!"

He looked at her, baffled at her outburst. Then a smile broke out on his face, and he bent down to kiss her. She welcomed him warmly, throwing her arms around him, pulling him even closer. Their kiss soon became heated, neither wanting to end what they had missed so very much, but it was Joséphine that finally pulled up for air. Some colour had returned to her face, and she was breathing heavily. Erik thought she looked marvellous.

"You want to be my husband for real?" she asked him, beaming up at him.

"I offer myself to you with all my faults and strengths, and I vow to love you and care for you, Joséphine, as long as we both shall live," he told her, reciting part of the wedding vows they had exchanged at the registry.

She brought him down for another kiss, cherishing the feel of his cool lips on her. Once the kiss was over, she looked him deep into the eyes.

"So tell me, why is it that I have such an awful taste of garlic in my mouth?"

A/N: Almost at the end now, I suppose that's why it's taking me so long to finish...I have trouble saying goodbye...