Chapter 21

A Fresh Start

Christine Mansart

When I woke up I was lying in a strange bed in a room I didn't recognize. It seemed I had a bad habit of waking in the beds of strange people. First Erik and now whoever these people were. Not to be cruel but I did not remember much of what happened last night. All I knew was I had a stuffy nose, my throat hurts like hell and I am freezing. Although I am no doctor I can recognize the signs of a cold or influenza. If I had either one than this was going to be one mess of a week, and it was not looking too great as it is.

I had not known that it was possible to become ill after one night in the rain. It had never happened to me before and I had spent long days in the rain with my father and never once became sick. But father had told me that I must be very careful if I were ever to be impregnated because my immune system would be compromised. Surely being in these cold clothes and in the rain had caused me to become rapidly ill. That was not good for either me or my children and I hoped to God it was nothing too serious. Anything stronger than a cold could be detrimental to my children. It could cause my body to abort the fetuses in order to expel the virus.

But whatever it was, it was nasty enough and I wanted it to go away the moment I became aware of the symptoms. My body felt achy all over and I let out a yawn that would have made a lioness order me back into bed. It was interrupted by a loud hard cough that rocked me where I stood. Groaning I stumbled towards a corner and curled up in a ball there. Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to sleep against the wall, but it was so uncomfortable. I looked at the bed a few feet away. It looked so welcoming and soft but to crawl to it would be too much effort in my current state. Instead I lay down on the floor, my head resting on the rug.

"Erik…" I rasped, but it was no good.

My voice was barely audible in its current state and even with his incredible hearing it would be hard for Erik to catch this. Bile rose in my throat and I belched up a bunch of sick-fluid. I reached over, my arms weak and painful as I knocked over a chair. It fell with a resounding crack, and Erik jolted awake. He looked stunned, blinking a couple times and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. I coughed again and he looked down. I did not see his expression because I blacked out and ended up collapsing in my own vomit.

"Oh my God Chrissie, oh angel…" I heard him running to me.

"Mmm…sick…" I moaned.

Erik was shaking me but all I could manage was to moan and lift my head a little to look at him. He put his arms around me, and lifted me up to his chest. He kissed my lips, despite their throw-up and carried me to bed. I sunk into the bed where he tucked me in, kissing me on the head and holding me close. I felt like a child needing my father, the same way I had on the boat. As much as I couldn't stand being helpless right now I was powerless to do anything about it. Erik brushed his lips over my head and that was it.

I blacked out for I don't know how long, all I knew was my snoring resounded like a continuous rumble in my plugged ears. It was bright outside when I fell asleep but when I woke up it was cold and dark. I was relieved to find myself in a warm bed in a peaceful dark room in order to soothe my pounding head. Though the chill of the darkness was torturous on my fever-chilled body and my eyes ached. I forced them open and turned my head, squinting in the darkness to see my husband. I could just see him through the light pooling in the hallway. It was dim and small from a lantern but adequate enough so I could see him.

My heart broke at the sight of him lying exhausted beside me in this gigantic bed. He was passed out cold; too tired to even wrap his arms around me, limp as a washrag. I ran my fingers under his eyes that were darkened a little from the sickness of too-little rest. I knew it was not a good idea to be so close to him when I was sick but I just had to kiss the man for doing all that he did for me. It seemed that he was the most forgiving and sweetest man in the world. I had literally torn his beating heart straight from his chest and he had still allowed me back into his life.

Not only that but he had given me the power to heal him or destroy him all over again. It seemed no matter how many times I hurt him he would be there when I needed him. I had done everything possible to make this better. Marrying him was no trouble; consummation was not a problem either. The rockiest part had been my pregnancy but even then, though he was terrified of the idea. He had allowed me to keep the children and forced himself to be the man he was scared to be. Now he was taking care of me, despite his fragility when it came to his health knowing full well he might catch it.

As I watched him sleep I felt tears coming to my eyes, wondering how in the world he could love me after everything I've put him through. All the rejection and the infidelity, the torment he had been through on my behalf. True we weren't married at the time so to say I was unfaithful was a bit overdramatic. But to leave the one who loved me the most should have been a worse sin than infidelity. Worse than being unfaithful to a husband I did not love, in order to have the lover I adored. Women who took lovers were at some point forgiven, because with that husband, I could at the very least claim unhappiness.

But when I had consciously chosen to leave the love of my life and then complained of misery it would be my own fault. The worst part was what I thought I had driven him to, the thought that I had killed him. I could not believe that he loved me so much that he drove himself mad. So mad that the mere sight of that home by the lake where we had shared so many memories broke his heart. He'd run away to a lonely home where he had clearly intended to die, recreating his pain in the hopes that someday I may come back to him.

Erik had made me a dress more beautiful than the last knowing full-well that I might never see him again. Everything he had given me was based on the hope that I would love him as much as he did me. It made me weepy to think of how much he adored me and I had nearly married someone else because of nostalgia and silly girlish dreams. No amount of familiarity was enough to throw away true love. For him to say I thought more of money and looks then what was in his heart was the worst thing he could have ever said to me.

But he had the right to feel that way because it was only logical. Raoul was everything that most girls would want in a man. He was wealthy, handsome, and charismatic and compared to Erik who was poor and aging. There was no reason for me to not want Raoul and for a while I did but then he was just so loving and attentive and utterly dull. Everything was so carefully planned, even when he kissed me it was as if he was afraid to go too far. Never losing control and if that was how he kissed me just imagine how uninspired his lovemaking would be.

He would be gentle and careful, allowing me to be in control, telling me to let him know when to come. I would have too much control to the point of where he was allowed to touch me. It would be slower than molasses because he would be too gentle, his strokes too shy so that it was boring when he finally did climax. I had heard of women who faked their ending pleasures in the marital bed. That would have been me if I had married Raoul, the dutiful Madame De Chagny always pleasing her man.

That to me would be so dreadfully dull and the affection he had for me would be little compensation. I found it thrilling that Erik could be my master in the bedroom, that he could actually cause me physical pain but still make me shiver. His kisses were loving but not careful, they could be forceful and rough too. He kissed me the way we both enjoyed but the way he would be in control. I had no say in the ways we made love; it was based completely on my trusting him. Which I did and that made it both surprising and enjoyable. Much better than the dutiful sex a life with Raoul could give me I am sure.

The thought of the simple love and cushy life that Raoul had to offer me after the passion and adventure Erik had shown me was so unattractive to me nowadays. I was beginning to question the good sense with which I ran my life. It was apparent that not only was I insatiably curious but I had a passion for dangerous men. Neither of these were good traits when it came to my safety, but then my choice in men was not much better. I found the more time I spend by my husband's arms and around him it drove the need for safety away from me.

That was why I had taken off from Raoul's warm embrace back to Erik's though I had feared that it had been too late, because no man in his right mind would love a woman who had scorned him. But my Erik was not like most men and though a genius was a fool when it came to love. Not that I had any more sense than he did with matters of the heart. I had found out that he was far too weak when it came to me the same way I was with him. It seemed even when he had injured my heart the only thing he had to do was wrap his arms around me and then it was over. He knew it too and that's why he put his heart back in my hands to keep or destroy.

I lay in my husband's arms and tried to remain wrapped in my sleep. But my children wanted me to get up and so I did, running around looking for the water closet and finding no luck. I felt my children becoming restless. That was defiantly not good and I placed my hand on my stomach trying to settle them down. I rubbed my belly usually this calmed them down. But it was no good. This was unfortunate because my children kept kicking. I tried to find a door to outside and was again thwarted in my efforts. I felt my stomach rising in my throat and I knew I had to find a door before I got sick again.

My eyes discovered all around me was a living room where our hosts were sleeping in the furniture. The two of them were laying deeply in sleep with the midget on his gigantic chest. He was snoring louder than Erik and I combined. In fact to be honest it sounded more like the roar of a bear. One that was deep in hibernation at that. But the woman seemed completely accustomed to the sound and looked as peaceful as a child. It was an adorable sight, and I felt a need to cover them. There was a small blanket on the chair and I used it to cover the sleeping beast and the dwarf.

In the corner of the room, was a smoking ashtray. The smell of smoking, overused tobacco was filling the room. I had always hated the smell of tobacco. It reminded me of the fire that burned my house down when I was little. It smelled like those evil flames, the ones that took mama away from me when I was six and broke my daddy's heart. It made me feel sick and my stomach turned so violently that I wretched and bile came out before I could clap my hand over my mouth. The sour fluid poured out of my mouth making me gag even more. I ended up retching so loud that I ended up waking one of our hosts.

The poor little woman whose name I could not remember at the moment came rushing out with big concerned eyes. She looked very tired and I gestured for her to go away but instead she put the wastebasket beneath my chin and I threw up more. The woman was too short to hand it to me and I was too shaky to pick it up. So I went to my knees and gripped it. I hadn't eaten anything and it was amazing to me that my body could still reject contents that weren't there. She patted my back as I was down at her level.

"You poor thing, "she told me.

"I am sorry I woke you." I whimpered as my back began to ache.

"Oh nonsense my dear I was wondering when you were going to wake up." She said gently.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked.

"Almost two days, you must be very tired." She said, softly so as not to wake the giant.

"I am ill and pregnant, I threw up…my husband put me into bed and then…I must've passed out." I said apologetically.

"That man is your husband?" she asked curious.

"Y-yes is that bad?" I stammered, not knowing how she was going to react.

"Oh no, you are free to marry whomever you wish." She said, "Still it is rather strange."

"Ugh would everyone please quit saying that!" I snapped without meaning to.

"Forgive me Ms. Daaë." She said and I spun around to look at her,

"What…did you just call me?" I asked softly.

"You don't remember me why should you, I was merely a costume girl who handled your dainty shoes." She looked down.

I frowned thinking hard then I finally said, "Mattie Fleck…"

She had indeed been my shoe-attendant at the opera, making sure my ballet slippers were neat and clean. I looked up at her and noticed she was crying a little, as I remembered her cleaning and dusting my little shoes and wishing me a good morning. Of course she had been the same for everyone there and I had been just a child. But still it was amazing that she remembered me all this years later. Did all oddities have this supernatural memory or something? She had left, sometime before I turned ten and I had not heard from her since. I wondered where she was as she was my first friend there, but had allowed her to fade from my memory over time.

"Of course I remember you, but what-how-why?" I had too many questions.

Fleck laughed gently and hugged me, "It's all right that you forgot me Christine."

"I did not mean to." I looked down at my lap.

She shook her head and kissed me on the head, I felt so sick and tired that I wanted to go back to sleep. But I was feeling selfish for wanting to when it would wake Erik and he needed his rest. Mattie lifted me to my feet and dragged me to the sofa, putting me in the armchair where my head lulled on my neck. Sleep was weighing down my eyelids but I could not allow it to take yet when my old friend was sitting here trying to take care of me. I tried to focus on her and managed to turn my head as she perched herself on the arm of the chair.

"I had to leave because Carlotta complained about the midget running about." She said; I rolled my eyes, typical of her. "But I kept up with the news of you because Madame Giry she sent me copies of the Époque."

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes," she said brightly, "I knew all about your stardom, the catastrophe, and your engagement." Mattie's eyes knew, serious.

"Oh… I see well Erik and me…" I stopped how to explain the fact that I had married my tormenter rather than the aristocrat.

"Why you married him is a story for another time." Mattie said gently, "you should sleep some more so your fever abates."

She threw a light living room blanket over me, poured some awful tonic down my throat and turned off the light. I shook my head, my eyes closed and I allowed myself to drift off as I heard Mattie quietly leaving the room. I caught the heartfelt look on her face as she looked soulfully at the giant roaring on the couch. I smiled; it seemed that Erik and I were not the only ones in love here or the only ones trying to make a fresh start here in America.

A/N: If you are enjoying this story then check out "The Grandson" my latest story.