A/N: Sorry this update is a little late: I had a choir concert yesterday and didn't have time to write the next chapter. But here it is. Hope it was worth the wait :)

Chapter Thirty-One

Anger was building inside Erik, a quiet, white rage mixed with pain. It grew the more he looked at the child. Her child.

"Good," the boy said. The part of Erik that was a musician noted coldly the beauty of the toddler's voice.

Alison kissed him on the top of the head. "Would you mind going to play with Grandma for a minute? This man and I need to have a little talk, alone. Okay?"

The boy smiled at her. "Okay." He jumped off her lap and ran on short legs to the door. Alison got up and closed it behind him. She paused for a moment, gathering her strength, then turned to face Erik. He was holding the picture of her son from the bedside table. He turned it to face her.

"This is what you wanted to tell me, is it not?"

Alison sighed. "Yes."

"So you were intending on confessing your betrayal."

"Betrayal?" Alison asked, confused. "I don't–"

"I waited for you, Angelique!" he yelled, getting up from the bed and crossing over to her. "Five years I waited, longer than I had waited for Christine or for anyone else. I waited, hoping and praying that one day you would come back to me, wishing that wherever you were, you were waiting for me too. I lived on that thought alone."

"Erik–"

"You welcomed me with kisses and words of love: I thought that my fantasies had come true! I should have known that was too much to hope for with a monster like me."

"You shouldn't–"

"I hoped that I would find you faithful. Instead, you have not only betrayed me with another man, but had a son with him!"

Alison's eyes widened. "Wait, you think I–"

"Who was he, Angelique? Beautiful? Blonde-haired? Tall? Handsome? He must have been handsome. I should have expected no less from you or from any woman." He turned his head away in disgust.

They were both silent for a moment.

"Could you really think so little of me?" Alison's voice reflected a deep hurt.

Erik turned back to her, confused. He had not received the answer he had expected. "I–"

"No," Alison stopped him. "You ranted and raved at me for something I didn't do, now it's my turn. So shut up and listen."

"Something you did not–"

"Yes, something I didn't do. I waited for you too, Erik. Three years. Three years of everyone at college looking at me like I was crazy, or delicate. To them, I had been away for eighteen days. Not enough time to change a person's life, in their view. But after I got back, nothing seemed worth doing anymore, and do you know why? Because I had lost you!" Alison poked him in the chest. She was getting angrier with each word, and Erik was getting more confused.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to slip into depression? I had lost an entire life by coming back here, left behind the only things that seemed to make it worth living. Do you think that didn't hurt me?"

Erik was beginning to feel ashamed for his tirade at her. "No, but–"

"And I never had any other boyfriends. It wasn't as if I wasn't asked. I turned them all down. Guys started asking me just because they knew I refused everyone: they wanted the thrill of the chase. And after I had the baby, there wasn't a point in asking me anyway."

"And I am sure that must have been a great loss to you," snapped Erik bitterly.

"It wasn't, actually. Do you know why I turned them all down? Because none of them compared to you. Ever. I would look at them and all I would see is 'His eyes are different from Erik's.' 'He's too short or not as tall.' You affected the way I looked at every single other guy after you."

"Then why–"

"That child is two years and three months old. He was conceived a little less than three years ago." She waited for comprehension from Erik, but only got a blank look in return. She sighed in exasperation and took the picture from Erik's hands, turning it to face him. "Look at him. Really look at him. Look at his eyes. Do they remind you of anything?"

Erik looked closely at the eyes of the child in the picture and froze. "But…they look almost like…"

"Your eyes. Yes. That baby is your son, Erik. Not some other random man's. Yours."

Erik couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He just sat, staring at the picture and trying to make some sense of it all.

"A son…" he breathed.

"And he was all I had to hang on to, when I didn't have you."

"My son…"

"I had to make my life around him. He was my last connection to you. If he hadn't been there, God knows what you would have found when you came back. You might not have found me here at all, if it weren't for him."

Erik slowly placed the picture back on the bedside table and turned to Alison. To her surprise, there were tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Alison. Thank you." He took her in his arms and kissed her gently, and she felt her anger and hurt melting away at his awed and grateful touch. Then he pulled back to look at her. "And I am so sorry that I did not listen. I assumed he was someone else's son because…because he is so beautiful." His eyes filled with tears. "I believed that you had realized that I cannot give you anything but a scarred face and pain. Just as I hoped that you would wait for me, I feared that you had not."

Alison cupped his unmasked cheek with her palm. "I will always wait for you, Erik," she said softly. "No matter how long it takes."

"I never deserved you, Alison. Could never in a million lifetimes."

A small, embarrassed smile appeared on her face. "It was always me who didn't deserve you."

They kissed a gentle kiss, full of love and gratitude. Then they pulled back, just looking at each other.

With one finger, Alison traced the lines of his face, rememorizing them all over again. She traced the curve of his jawbone and the lines of his lips, around his eye and down his cheek. Then her finger slowly went around the edges of the mask. As she went to pull it off, he caught her wrist.

"Alison. Please," he begged, not taking his eyes off hers.

"I want to really see you, Erik," she replied. "I want to see the face that I've missed. All of it. What hides behind the mask is the thing that makes you you. I wouldn't change it if I could. Please let me see."

Consternation showed in his eyes for a moment, but he released his grip on her wrist and lowered his hand.

She slowly removed the mask. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression on her face. She was reminded of the first time he had let her see his face. His nervousness, the closure of his eyes, his hesitance: those were all the same. She smiled, dropped the mask to the floor, and used her finger to trace the lines of the other side of his face. His eyes went wide at her touch. She traced every bump and scar, every imperfection, and loved them all equally. She devoted her attention to touching every bit of his deformity, and she watched him sigh and move closer to her hand.

For Erik, it was sweet torture. Her every touch to the sensitive skin of his face sent heat through his body, making him itch to hold her and touch her and kiss every inch of her skin. But no one had touched him gently in so long, he wanted to relax and enjoy it. Fortunately for him, it wasn't his choice to make.

Alison cupped his damaged cheek with her whole hand, making him stretch closer to her touch, and she kissed his lips.

It's much better without the mask, both of them thought. He began to kiss her, deeper and deeper, holding her close to him. His hand slid under her shirt to touch her back, and they both gasped at the touch of skin on skin, for the first time in so long. Her arms went around his neck, pressing her body closer to his.

Their tender moment was interrupted by a loud, male shout from downstairs. "She did WHAT?" They jumped apart like guilty teenagers and Alison quickly adjusted her shirt as heavy steps came up the stairs.

"That's my dad," she whispered to Erik. They went and sat on the bed, trying to look as if they had been doing nothing more than talking. Erik grabbed his mask and barely managed to fit it on his face before the door banged open and Alison's father stepped into the room.

"Alison, who is this man?" he demanded.

"Dad, this is Erik. Erik, this is my dad, Michael."

Erik stood up, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Michael raised his eyebrows and shook Erik's outstretched hand. "I don't think I've met you before. Where are you from? And how do you know Alison?"

"Dad, please don't interrogate him. He only just got here and–"

"I am from Paris," Erik interrupted. "Your daughter worked at my opera house for a time and that is how we met."

"You own an opera house?"

Erik shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a child again under Michael's gaze. "No, not exactly, but–"

"How long have you known each other?"

"Dad–"

"Six years," Erik replied. It was almost a question.

"If you've known each other for six years, how come I don't know who you are?"

Alison jumped in before Erik could answer. "It's complicated. There were circumstances that unfortunately separated us, so you don't know him."

"But if you were kissing him, obviously you care about him. So why don't you talk about him?"

"Dad, please. It's just complicated, okay?" The tone of Alison's voice stopped her father in his tracks for a moment. When he spoke to Erik again his voice was softer.

"I just need to be sure that you will take care of my daughter. I don't know you at all, so it's a question I have to ask. Because if you break her heart–"

"I will not," said Erik quickly. "That is the last thing on my mind, monsieur. I promise."

Michael saw the sincerity in his eyes and nodded.

At that moment, Sadie rushed into the room. "Is everything all right? Did my husband yell at you too much?"

Erik looked even more uncomfortable. Everyone was staring at him and he didn't like it. "No, madame. It is fine."

"Sadie, please. I was going to ask you: do you have somewhere to stay? Because if you don't, we can put you in the guest bedroom. It's a little cramped because of the piano but–"

"I would like that. Very much," Erik replied. Alison smiled as she saw his eyes light up at the word piano.

"Then come with me and I'll show you where it is." Sadie left the room and Erik followed her with one look back at Alison.

Alison leaned back against the wall. "Dad, would you mind going? I need a minute to process all of this. To be honest, I haven't seen him in almost three years and I never expected to see him again. It's not his fault," she said, forestalling Michael's questions. "But still, it's a little overwhelming."

Her father nodded. He kissed her on the forehead and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Erik's in my house, Alison thought, her heart beating fast. Erik is in my house. He kissed me and he still loves me and–

Her excitement was cut off by a stray thought.

Now I've got to teach him about technology.

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