Chapter Twelve

The next Sunday she slipped out of the dormitories at the usual time, attempting to avoid everyone else, including Christine. She didn't want to run into Christine today of all days. She hadn't seen Erik since before she broke up with Patrick and she had missed him terribly. No one, she decided, would get in the way of this visit.

She snuck to the chapel and slipped inside the secret door. She all but ran down the tunnels, picking her way to Erik's home without missing a step or triggering a single trap. She stopped in front of the entrance, her breath coming fast. She quickly smoothed down her hair and straightened her clothes. She felt suddenly, inexplicably nervous. Don't be silly, she scolded herself. It's just a normal visit. You do this every Sunday. Why is this such a big deal all of a sudden? She shook her head to clear it and stepped into the lair.

Erik was sitting at his desk, drawing. He was completely focused on the paper in front of him and didn't seem to even realize she was there.

"Hey," she called to him.

He jumped and turned around. "Hello, Angelique. I did not realize you were… is it seven o'clock already?"

She smiled a small, tight smile. "Yes, angel, it is."

"I am sorry," he said, looking contrite. "I simply lost track of the time."

She walked over to the desk. "What are you drawing?" He gave no answer, but held the drawing out for her to see. With a sinking feeling, she recognized Christine's features, captured perfectly on the paper. She closed her eyes and let out a breath through her pinched lips. He didn't seem to notice and put the drawing back on his desk, making minor adjustments to it as he did so.

She looked up at him. "How have you been?"

He sighed. "Better. But I still cannot stop thinking about her," he admitted sheepishly.

"I would like to remind you what I said, that she's not worth your time. She rejected you and married the Vicomte. She left you without a single goodbye. She doesn't care about you at all." She saw him wince and softened her words. "I'm sorry. It's just that I think it would be better for you to move on and forget Christine."

He looked up, almost horrified. "Forget Christine? I could never! I love her too much to even try. She is so beautiful and perfect and–"

She cut him off. "Yes, I know." She strove to keep her voice from wobbling and giving her pain away. I should have realized that this would be painful. I just hope that all of our time together after this won't be this bad.

"Are you all right?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

She gave him an over-bright smile. "Of course! Why in the world would you think I wouldn't be?"

He frowned. "There is no reason in particular. I just thought… but it is not important. As to what I was saying before, even if I did forget Christine, what else would there be to do besides music? Now that I have had this contact with her, how could I go without it? Who could I ever love besides her?"

She bit her lip, trying to stave off the tears that sprang to her eyes at his unthinking words. Could you even try? she wanted to say. Could you love me? You don't know how much I care about you: even if I told you, it wouldn't even matter to you. You only have eyes for your beautiful Christine. I broke up with Patrick to be with you; when are you going to see that I love you?

She turned away, determined not to let him see the hurt etched on her face. She was too proud for that. She would continue to be his friend and continue trying to convince him that there was more out there for him than Christine.

And she tried. But he didn't make it easy. Every day that she saw him, he would always either be crying over Christine or talking nonstop about how wonderful she was. Each time her name left his mouth, it tore a small hole in her heart. She would comfort him and listen to his ramblings, trying to be as good a friend to him as she could, while still trying to get him to understand that Christine wasn't good enough for him. It hurt more each time he refused to listen to her words.

To make matters worse, she was having daily chats with Christine, which mostly consisted of Christine moaning and fearfully looking around the room, as if expecting Erik to appear any moment and kidnap her. She would talk about how she felt him watching her and how scared she was that he would attempt to force his way back into her life again. "I feel him watching me all the time now," she would say. "His eyes follow me everywhere and they frighten me so! Oh, how I wish Raoul was here to protect me." Then she would smile at Alison. "But I have you to protect me now. You will keep him away, won't you?" She looked like a pleading child, and under the naïveté of that gaze, Alison could do little else but agree and give Christine a hug.

I don't understand why Erik fell in love with her, Alison would often reflect. She's a naïve child with no brain and very little to recommend her other than her looks and her voice. Although I suppose I'm not being completely fair to her, since I would probably find something to criticize in her even if she were the most perfect person in the world, simply because of the place she holds in Erik's heart. But she irritated me as a character even before I fell in love with Erik.

Day after day, Alison sat and listened to her, playing the part of the patient friend and, at times, nurturing mother. She held back her anger, frustration, and pain at Christine's attitude towards the man who had given up everything for her. Christine's words opened wider the hole that Erik had made in Alison's heart. Months went by in this way and Alison knew that it wouldn't be long before her heart broke altogether; she just hoped that nothing horrible would come out of it.

The break came quite suddenly one day as she was trying once again to convince Erik that he should just get over Christine. Erik had become increasingly irritated with Alison's efforts. Every time they saw each other, she kept insisting that he was too good for Christine, and that bothered Erik. It chafed at his sense of himself and his love for Christine. So when she broached the subject with him for the millionth time (at least, that's what it felt like to him) he snapped.

"DAMN YOU! CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING CHRISTINE?"

She shrank back wide-eyed from his outburst.

"I do not understand what your intent is in telling me the same things over and over again. Christine is not "not good enough for me," it is I who is not good enough for her! Do not try to lie to me on that score. I know all too well what I am, there is no use trying to tell me differently. Your constant… nagging about this is getting on my last nerve. I will never love anyone but Christine and that is final. Do you understand?"

She looked at him for a moment, unmoving. There was something shocked and fragile in her eyes. Before he could determine exactly what it was, it was gone, replaced by calm coolness.

"I see." Her voice was frigid. "There is no changing your opinion. I can see that I've been wasting my time."

He frowned. He hadn't been expecting that response. He sensed that he had deeply hurt something inside her and realized that he needed to make it right. He put his hands out in a gesture that was the closest to an apology he could get. "Angelique…"

She stepped away from him. "No. It's all right. You've made yourself very clear. I think I'll just… go now."

With a rigid back, she walked stiffly to the arch in the wall and disappeared into the blackness. "Angelique, wait!"

He sat down hard, let out a breath, and put his head in his hands. I think I just did something very, very wrong. But why do I feel so bad about asserting my love for Christine? His conviction in his love wavered. He frowned. This was wrong. He would love Christine forever and that was that.

Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He knew exactly what would help him remember why he had fallen in love with Christine in the first place. Maybe it will ease this strange guilt. He got up decisively, and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

Alison stumbled along the tunnels, blinded by the tears she was so desperately trying to hold back. Her foot caught on a rock and sent her sprawling. I'm lying on the floor in the dark again, just as I was when he found me. That was the beginning. This will be the end.

I've shed enough tears over him and he has made it very clear that he will never love me. There is no point in torturing myself by spending time with someone I can never have. That will be the last time I see him. She brushed herself off, all hints of tears gone from her eyes. She looked at the tunnel behind her one last time. "Goodbye, Erik," she whispered, allowing the pain and vulnerability to show in her eyes for a split second. Then she turned around and strode down the tunnel to the world above, without looking back.

I'm sorry if this chapter is a little choppy in places. But please review!