Chapter 14

Over the next few months, Christine rearranged her life to the new circumstances. A few days after the funeral, she returned to work. A few weeks after the funeral, she and Erik cleaned out Aunt Alice's room and added a framed photo of Alice to the mantle in the sitting room. Over time, the pile of blankets and pillows Erik kept next to the sofa for his makeshift bed disappeared. His box of clothes found their way into a drawer in Christine's bedroom.

Most nights after work, Christine would come home to a beautiful meal prepared by her angel. Then after supper they would kiss and embrace then fall asleep side-by-side. Christine knew that if she asked, Erik would be willing to do more. She also knew, though, that she wanted to get married first. She was a Christian, and she wanted to do this right.

On occasion, Christine would come home to a quiet Erik, oftentimes sitting on the sofa staring at his hands, expression cold as ice. The first few times this happened, Christine tried to ask Erik what was bothering him. He would either say nothing and walk out of the room or reply with harsh words that Christine knew he didn't mean, although they hurt nonetheless. At times like this, a quiet voice in the back of her mind would tell her she deserved better from the man she loved. She tried to ignore this selfish voice.

As spring turned to summer, Raoul began to visit the Opera more regularly. Rumor had it that he was planning to give more money for the upcoming coming season, and therefore was visiting to ensure that his money was being used well.

Christine heard of his coming before she saw him. Meg passed along the whispers she heard from her mother and the gossip from the ballet corps' dressing room. These whispers sent her heart racing at first. She thought of the last time she had seen Raoul, when she had told him that she loved Erik. How would he treat her now? After a few weeks, though, she began to wonder if the rumors were true, for she hadn't seen the vicomte at all.

That was until rehearsal one Wednesday just before lunch. Christine was center stage, rehearsing a scene with the chorus. It was a busy scene, the ballerinas running in a circle around her as the chorus sang. The movement and music then stopped abruptly, and Christine began her aria. Christine always loved performing to an empty theater. In that moment, she was performing more for herself than for anyone else. She felt a sense of rightness as her voice filled the empty theater. She gazed upwards towards the balconies, taking in the magnificent architecture, completely lost in the music. As she sang the final notes of the aria, she heard quiet applause. Glancing down to the first few rows on the floor, she saw a familiar face. Raoul.

Monsieur Reyer stopped rehearsal there, giving notes to various people before releasing them all for a lunch break. Christine hurried to her dressing room, hoping to close the door and hide.

Whatever hope Christine had of avoiding Raoul died as she rounded the corner to her dressing room. There he was, leaning against the wall in an elegant suit. He looked up.

"Good afternoon," Christine said cautiously.

"It's so good to see you," Raoul said casually. "I was wondering if you would care to join me for lunch?"

"Oh Raoul, that's sweet, but…"

"I know your schedule," he cut her off. "I'll get you back here in time. I just would like to catch up."

Christine sighed. It wasn't worth arguing with him. "Fine. Do you have anywhere in mind?"

Christine found herself sitting at a quiet table in the corner of a fancy, upper-class café just across from the Opera. Raoul ordered for them soups and sandwiches as Christine sat quietly, watching him. Raoul looked older than the boy she had fallen in love with a year ago. There appeared to be darker circles under his eyes and a sadness within them that had not been there a year ago. It was as if he had given up some of his boyish hope for the world.

"So, Christine," Raoul said, turning back to her after he finished ordering. "How are you?" The way he said it seemed oddly formal, like he had rehearsed this conversation before. She knew Raoul well enough to know what he sounded like when he was being genuine. Maybe he was just nervous to be seeing her.

"I'm doing well," Christine said. "I love this new opera we are working on. And, somehow, I was given the lead, not Carlotta!"

"Rumor has it that she is looking to move elsewhere. Maybe Rome."

Christine's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I hadn't heard that!"

"Perk of being a patron for the opera–I know things," Raoul said with a wink. "And besides, that opens up the leading soprano spot for you."

Christine considered Raoul's words. The leading soprano spot, all hers. Christine liked her middle ground she was walking right now, playing smaller roles and occasionally being given the lead. But to be the lead, what an achievement that would be. The thought filled her with pride.

"Well that would be very exciting indeed," Christine said.

A brief silence fell between them. Christine spoke quickly. "How is Philippe?"

"He actually just got engaged," Raoul said. "My brother, engaged! Can you believe it?"

Christine chuckled but in reality, she could believe it. Philippe was the one who pushed her to stop singing if she were to marry Raoul. Someone so tradition-driven would most certainly get married.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Christine asked.

"Her name is Isabelle. She's the daughter of a long-time family friend."

"Well please pass along my congratulations," Christine replied half-heartedly. Philippe did not hold a very warm place in her heart.

Just then the food arrived. Christine was ravenous after a long morning of rehearsals, so she immediately picked up her sandwich and took a bite.

As she chewed, Raoul asked, "How is the Phantom?"

Christine stopped mid-chew to stare at Raoul.

"Come on," he said, "one of us had to bring him up."

Christine sighed and swallowed. "Everything's great."

"Come on, Christine. You've always been a terrible liar."

Christine glared at Raoul, not caring that it was impolite. "Everything is fine," she assured him. "He's a difficult man at times, but overall I'm happy."

"Is he hurting you?"

"No!"

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's complicated, okay? And why do you even want to hear about this anyways?"

Raoul looked frustrated. "I care about you! Do you remember what I promised a few months ago? I am going to protect you now, since you no longer have a guardian. This is me fulfilling that promise."

Christine shook her head. "Why are you doing this?"

"Christine," Raoul said, reaching across the table to touch her hand, "I love you. I know you don't love me anymore, but I cannot live knowing you are with the Phantom and not knowing if you are okay."

Christine sighed and pulled her hand away from his. "Fine," she said. "It's just, Erik has been really quiet and moody lately."

"Isn't he always like that?"

"No!" Christine cried. "He's normally so gentle and sweet. He makes me laugh and plays music with me."

For a moment, there was pain in Raoul's eyes. It faded quickly. "So, what changed?"

"That's the thing–I don't know."

They fell into silence for a moment. Eventually, Raoul spoke again, this time his voice soft. "I don't know him like you do, Christine. But you probably need to talk to him. He's a stubborn man, but you need to force him to talk to you. Sometimes I wonder if our relationship would have worked if I had listened to you more."

"So many things could have gone better between us, Raoul."

Raoul looked at her with sad eyes. Eventually, he sighed. "It's really good to see you again, Christine."

Christine smiled. "It's good to see you, too."

They fell into a conversation about Philippe's wedding and opera gossip, the seriousness and nostalgia forgotten.

After lunch, Raoul walked Christine back to her dressing room. They stopped at the door, and Raoul pulled her into a hug. Christine tensed for a moment, before relaxing into his embrace. It was so easy, familiar. "Remember," he whispered into her neck. "I am here, with you beside you, to guard you and to guide you."

Christine smiled, remembering him saying those words to her on the rooftop. She pulled away and looked into his blue eyes. "Thank you," she whispered before turning into her dressing room, leaving Raoul in the hallway.

Christine returned to the apartment that evening, unsure what to expect. She was nervous, but she also remembered Raoul's advice. She needed to talk to Erik. She needed to understand what was going on. The apartment was quiet when she entered. She kicked off her shoes and rounded the corner into the living room. Erik was standing in the middle of the carpet wearing his suit, wig, and mask. Christine stopped dead in her tracks.

"Why did you go with him?" Erik asked.

"What?" Christine asked, baffled.

"Raoul. Why did you go with him?" Erik's voice was harsh.

"I… uh… what? How do you know about that?"

"I went to the Opera today. I had to get out of here, so I decided to go to the Opera and hear you sing. Maybe that would help. But as I went to your dressing room, I watched you leave with Raoul. And when you came back, you hugged him," Erik said. "You don't love me," he said coldly.

"I do love you! Raoul just wanted to catch up, so he forced me to go to lunch with him. I didn't want to," she explained desperately.

"You lie," he said coldly. His voice was dark, reminiscent of how he spoke as he told her to make her choice back in the lair so many months before. "You are cruel, Christine Daaé. I thought I needed you, but I was wrong. Loving you was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I thought with you I would find happiness, but instead I've only been imprisoned in this godforsaken apartment, unable to go out for fear of arrest, and with a woman who doesn't really love me."

Tears sprang to Christine's eyes. "How could you say that?" she cried. "And how do you think you make me feel when you are so angry or sad or whatever and you say cruel things to me to make me go away? Being with you isn't easy for me either!"

"If you don't want me here, just say the word!" Erik cried. "And you can go be with your precious vicomte. That's the way things should have been anyways." He muttered the last sentence under his breath.

Christine narrowed her eyes at Erik. She wanted to scream at him. Did he really think loving her was a mistake? Christine took a deep breath. She knew how to break him. She knew it in the lair, and she knew it now. Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Christine walked towards him. She reached out and pulled his mask from his face, revealing the grotesque deformity, and stroked her hand down his right cheek. She watched as the anger in his eyes shattered into sadness.

"Erik," she said softly. "I'm sorry I hurt you by seeing Raoul. And I'm sorry that I've made you feel trapped here. I can't imagine how hard it must be to be cooped up here."

Erik's bottom lip quivered, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "I just can't live like this anymore. At the opera, I had a whole world available for me, but here, I have a few small rooms, the memory of the only mother figure I've ever known, and the hope that the woman I love will be home early so I can have some escape from this torture in my mind."

"In your mind?" Christine echoed.

Erik sighed. "It's just… being alone in such a small space let's my mind run wild. Sometimes I'm back in the cage in the fair; other times I'm living on the streets being beaten by a gang of men. I'm being told I'm ugly and that I can never be loved over and over and over again. And I believe it, Christine, oh do I believe it."

Christine took Erik's face in her hands. "You are beautiful. And I love you. Don't you know that?"

"It's not that simple," he said. "How can I believe you love me when I have a lifetime of evidence to tell me that this is just a trick or that you're doing this out of guilt rather than love."

Christine ran her hands down his shoulders, watching Erik closely. His gaze was downcast, his expression sorrowful, the walls he usually built up to hide his ever-present sadness broken.

"I'm sorry I said loving you was a mistake. I'm sorry I said you were cruel. It's not true, I know it's not," he said quietly.

Christine kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love you, Erik. And I'm going to keep telling you this until you get annoyed by me saying it. I want you to know it's a fact."

Erik smiled a watery smile. "I love you too, Christine." He pulled her into a tight embrace, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Christine breathed in the fresh smell of his suit and felt herself relax into the warmth of his arms.

"So," she said as they broke apart. "Where shall we move to?"