If everything goes according to plan, 2-3 more chapters after this one, plus an epilogue. Let's see how this plays out.

Chapter 33

"Hi, Mama. It's Christine."

She held the phone away from her ear, expecting the shriek that ensued. Once the crying and screaming her name had calmed down, Christine held the phone closer to speak again.

"I'm so sorry," she said to the other woman, who was now softly crying. "I never wanted to upset you like this."

"Chrissie, where have you been?"

Christine bit her lip. "I can't tell you. Remember, I said that in the letter. That I couldn't tell you details for a very good reason? I still can't. But I'm safe, Mama."

"Please tell me where you are. Can I come pick you up?"

"I'm, well, I'm not in the United States right now. I'm in Europe." She held the phone away from her ear again and winced. "I know, I know. Please don't cry. I'm okay, everything is okay, all right? I promise."

But everything was not okay. She had just left Erik, had devastated him by her refusal of his proposal. Who knew what he was doing right now, how he was feeling. She couldn't bear to think too much about it. Her own heart was aching, and she wanted nothing more than to call another cab and head right back to him.

Now that she had talked to her mother, what was stopping her? She could go right back, couldn't she? How satisfying would it be to run into his arms right now! To take all of her words back, and… what? Promise to marry him without her mother present?

The woman in question was asking when she could see Christine.

"Soon," Christine promised. "I'm catching a flight to Dad's hometown right now."

"Stay there. I'll be on the next flight out, so can you stay there for a few days? Give me time to meet you, Chrissie."

Christine couldn't ignore the plea in her mother's voice. She longed to see the other woman anyway, and she couldn't see the harm in a brief reunion. "Okay, okay. Call this number, and I'll let you know where we can meet."

Her mom scolded her for all the secrecy, but she sounded more than relieved. After a few more words, Christine said her goodbyes and hung up.

It was easy enough to fly from Zurich, Switzerland to Stockholm Arlanda Airport, the closest airport to her father's hometown. Christine had never been there, but she had seen plenty of pictures and heard her father's tales of where he had grown up to feel like she knew the smallish city.

While Uppsala was the location of Sweden's oldest university, Charles Daaé hadn't been educated, but he had often spoken of the university's grounds and grand buildings. He had also often described the Uppsala Cathedral, Scandinavia's largest cathedral and the seat of the Archbishop of the Church of Sweden. Even after leaving Sweden, her father had loved visiting churches, sometimes taking Christine to whatever holy places he could find while they traveled. She knew she would have to visit the cathedral before she left.

Charles had left when he was eighteen to pursue music in the United States. It was at a show in New York that he had first met her mother, after all.

Even though the plane ride would only take two and a half hours, Sweden was far enough away that she had bought herself a couple of days before Erik could find her. Driving or taking a train would take at least twenty-four hours of straight travel, so she would have time to find a place to stay.

She wasn't sure why she was so sure that he would follow her. He had before, of course, sometime after she had gone home to Boston. However, that journey of his had been triggered by the conversation with Raoul he overheard, and at the time, he had thought she was in danger.

Will you come back?

He had asked her the question, broken her heart by asking, but she had answered honestly. I don't know. The house in Switzerland hadn't felt like home. She had only been there because of him, because he was the reason she had gone to that country, lived in that house with him.

He was her home.

She ached with the realization. She could wander the rest of the earth for eternity, and she would never find a place more suited for her than wherever let her stay at his side.

Her plane began to board the first passengers, and Christine looped her purse over her shoulder. She had to do this, couldn't turn back now. But no matter her decision, someone was going to get hurt. She was so tired of hurting Erik, so tired of seeing that look in his eyes that showed her what her words and actions were doing to him.

She had been surprised at Nadir's reaction over the phone, surprised that he hadn't immediately gotten angry with her for leaving Erik. Instead, he had blamed the other man for her actions.

And she hated that. She was to blame for being unable to let go of her old life in all of the ways Erik had needed her to.

The plane ride was only a few hours, so she spent the time staring out the window in silence. The skies were mostly clear, giving her a view of the passing landscape below. Was Erik on his way to Sweden now? Or was he still sitting in the music room, perched upon his piano bench without playing?

Once she had landed in Stockholm, and passed through customs without issue, Christine paused on the covered walkway just outside the airport to flag down a cab. Luckily, the driver knew some English, so she was able to request that he take her to a hotel in Uppsala, any place in a reasonable price range.

The blast of colder air when she stepped outside took her breath away for a moment. She fished her jacket out of her suitcase and slipped it on. Sweden was more fully in the throes of autumn than Switzerland had been, even up in the mountains as they had been. Uppsala was a gorgeous city, much like her father had described, and here, the trees were already beginning to turn brilliant colors. Brick buildings rose up throughout the city, and she spied the cathedral's gothic-style twin towers before they had even entered the city's central.

The cab pulled up to a small downtown hotel, which seemed perfect. She could walk to get to whenever she needed to go here. Christine thanked and paid him, then walked inside, lugging in her bag.

For a second, she considered the possibility that they might not have an empty room, but she managed to pay only a little more for a single bedroom with a private bathroom. She exchanged her American dollars for Euros at the hotel counter, then paid for a week's stay. Luckily, she still had cash leftover from emptying her bank account in Boston. She didn't want to touch the cash card Erik had given her, saving that for emergencies only.

Or for when her own money would run out. If she was serious about this separation, she would have to eventually think about a way to earn more funds.

For now, she would focus on a shower and crawling into bed. Before she stepped under the hot water, she shot off two texts. One was to her mother, giving her the hotel's address.

The other was to Nadir: I'm in Uppsala at the CityStay Hotel. I hope all is well with you. If you talk to Erik, please give him my love. That sort of message might be a slap in the face to Erik, but she couldn't help it. She still loved him without her heart, and she didn't want him to doubt that.

After she showered, she found a text message waiting for her from Nadir. I'm glad you arrived safely. Use cash only and do not go out at night.

She frowned at that. Nothing about Erik, and only a weird warning.

She quickly typed back, Ooookay.

The sheets were scratchy, the bed hard, and she laid there for a while, alone, listening to the sounds of cars on the city streets outside her window. Had she done the right thing in leaving? But if she had stayed, what would have happened? She couldn't have married him, couldn't have taken that step without her mother, but he had made it clear that she couldn't contact Anna as long as she lived at the safe house.

Leaving had been the only choice left to her.

But it still hurt so damn much.

Over the next three days, Christine oriented herself with the city.

Like she had told Nadir she would, she had stayed inside her tiny hotel room after dark, but she spent the rest of the days exploring the landscape that her father had once called home. She didn't know where he had grown up specifically – neither did her mother – but she liked to imagine where exactly he might have lived. In a tiny apartment overlooking the Fyris River? Or in a small two-story yellow house on the outskirts of the city?

She thought about renting a bike. Everyone rode bicycles around here, and even the mail carriers delivered on two wheels with large baskets attached to the front. However, she was one block away from the cathedral, one block from the river, a quick walk from anything she might need. The freedom to move about the city however she wanted was heavenly, even though she now felt lonelier than ever.

This far north of the equator, the days were shorter, and she remembered her father telling her about Uppsala's six-hour days when in the midst of winter. She didn't know how long she would stay here, but too many more weeks, and she would have to buy a heavy winter coat. For now, her jacket worked well during the day, although the mornings were chilly. Every day this week, she had woken up to the beginning fringes of frost on her window pane.

On her fourth day there, Christine explored a bookstore after lunch. She decided to head back to her hotel afterward, stopping for a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll, rather liking the Swedish tendency to demand a fika, or daily coffee break. She had learned to love sitting and watching the locals gather over a cup of black coffee every afternoon.

Today, she got hers to go, wanting to head back to read her book. The sky was gray, hinting at rain, and she didn't want to get caught in it.

Inside, she stretched across the double bed, the only place to sit in the room, which was only big enough for the bed anyway. At least beautiful gray-blue wallpaper adorned in white flowers covered the wall behind the bed, and she had a large window with a gorgeous view from which she could make out one of the cathedral's towers.

She was on the second chapter when a knock sounded on the door. She often had dinner sent up to her room, so this wasn't unusual, but she had yet to order anything for the evening. Christine hated the way her heart began to pound, but she had every right to be nervous. She hadn't heard from Erik in these past four days, and only tepid, short messages from Nadir that seemed to be making sure she was still alive.

Through her sudden rise of anxiety, she remembered that her mother was coming in that very day, though in her burst of adrenalin, she couldn't remember if that was supposed to happen before or after dinnertime.

The knock rapped again, this time followed by a woman's voice asking uncertainly, "Christine? You in there?"

Mama! Christine leapt off the bed and rushed to open the door. However, instead of seeing her mother on the other side, she was assailed by a short, thin girl with a head of perfect blonde hair.

"Oh my God, Christine!" Meg squealed, her voice thick with tears.

Christine could only return her hug, and the two girls clung to each other fiercely for several long moments. As soon as Meg let go and stepped back to grin at Christine through her wet eyes, Christine was again wrapped up in a big hug, this time from her mother. She breathed in her mother's familiar perfume and swallowed down her own tears.

Finally, the three women had calmed enough to step inside the hotel room, so Christine could shut the door behind them. The three of them stood there, staring at each other in relieved wonderment, before the trio burst into nervous but happy laughter.

Christine hugged her mom again, then clasped Meg's hands. "Meg! I knew Mama was coming, but you, too?"

Meg's blue eyes sparkled. "When she called me to say you were alive and well, I couldn't believe the good news! I just had to come!"

"But your ballet debut-"

Meg waved her off. "I've had almost no days off since rehearsals started, and we have a couple weeks before the show opens. They could afford to let me go for a few days to find my long-lost friend."

"I haven't been lost," Christine said, frowning at the rhetoric.

The two of them sat on the bed while Anna hovered nearby, clucking her tongue about the sparse hotel room, Christine's clothes, and saying how Christine had lost weight even though she knew she hadn't.

"You vanished, Chris," Meg said, huffing at her. "Almost two months passed without any word whatsoever."

"I-I wrote you a letter. Didn't you get it?"

"Of course I did! But what was I to think?" Meg's eyes filled with tears again. Christine had already gone through this with her mother, didn't want to face it again with Meg, but she could sense that her best friend needed to vent. "All you said was that you were unhappy in Boston, and you were leaving. You said, don't try to find you, and you would be in touch as soon as you could." She balled her hands into fists. "But you didn't get in touch, Chris. Even Raoul was worried about you!"

Christine scoffed at that, but she shouldn't have. Meg's face darkened. "Please tell me you didn't get him involved in this, Meg."

"In case you've forgotten, we are friends. You once trusted me with anything that was going on in your life. What happened?"

Her mother stepped in, sitting on Christine's other side atop the bed. "Please, my darling girl. Tell us what's going on with you. Where have you been? Why didn't you contact us?"

"I wanted to!" Christine didn't mean to shout at them, but her voice rose shrilly. She clapped her hands over her face, ashamed by her sudden hot tears. She felt the two women's hands patting her knee, her shoulder, their arms hugging her close. How did she ever believe she could live for long without them in her life?

Was it truly impossible to be with Erik while also having a relationship with her mother and best friend? Christine couldn't believe this to be true.

They waited for her to gain control of herself, and soon, Christine felt her words rise up. "I wanted to call you both – I really did. But I promised I wouldn't."

"Promised who, Chrissie?" her mother demanded to know.

"Erik."

His name hung in the air, finally set free, seeping power, making everything seem thicker around them.

Meg, ever sharp, gave a little gasp. "The Parisian man?"

Christine nodded. "Do you remember your going-away masquerade party, Meg? Remember the man who kept following me around? That was him. We- we had a fight, and the next thing I know, he was leaving the country. But I couldn't stand the thought of him leaving possibly forever, and so I followed him."

She held up both hands, placating. "Please don't think he kidnapped me or anything. It wasn't like that! He didn't even know I had followed him until it was too late for me to turn around. And once we had arrived in Europe, he did try to get me to go home, he really did. But-but, Mama, I love him. I truly do! What was I supposed to do? I didn't have a choice but to go with him if I wanted to be with him."

"Oh, honey," Anna said, patting her arm. "We all make some mistakes when we think we're in love."

Christine jerked back from her, knocking against Meg. "I don't think I am – I know it, truly know it. All of this time, I have lived with him, been with him, and my love for him has only grown."

"Christine," Meg said softly. The use of her full name caused Christine to grow still. "Isn't this the same man you said terrified you while you were in New York with him? I thought you had broken up with him."

"It's the same guy, but he… he has tried to change. That's why he left Boston. He did his best to get away from the situation that was causing him to get into trouble and do things that- that I didn't like." Christine chose her words carefully, not wanting to give away too much, at least not yet. Already, she had said so much, and she feared their reactions if they truly knew Erik's past.

"And he loves me too," Christine added.

"He said that?" Anna asked.

"He did. But even if he hadn't, his actions every day show me. He takes care of me, provides everything for me. He… he doesn't care that I'm a bit messed up." She pressed a hand to her chest, flat because she had taken off her bra and tucked it in the small dresser near the bathroom. "Mama, I don't feel like I have to convince you, but Erik and I… we complete each other. We fit so well together, and we've been through so much."

"So where is he, hon?" Her mother peered about the small hotel room as if she expected the man to pop out of somewhere.

"I left him." God, she was tired of crying, but there were the tears again. "He- he asked me to marry him, and I said no!"

Meg gasped. "Good lord, if you love him, why?"

"I couldn't marry him without you both there. How could I do that? A secret life is one thing – a secret marriage is an entirely different one."

Anna puffed a sigh. "I'm glad you didn't."

"Mama!"

"It's true, Chrissie! If you're getting married, I have to be there." She clucked her tongue again, sounding every bit the mother Christine remembered. "Tell me more about this Erik."

Christine did, skirting around his past and focusing on the man he was today. She told them about his talents with piano and violin, the elegant way he looked when he played, the way he could conjure up new melodies unlike anyone she had ever seen. She told them how he had taught her to sing, and she sang a single verse of Faust to show them, impressing them even with her voice cold and scratchy from crying. For a moment, the remembrance of Faust and all of the memories the opera contained for her made her weep all the harder.

She told them about his physical prowess, how he had defended and protected her, and how he had worked to make sure she was always satisfied. At this, her own mother had at once both colored red and murmured, "Finally, at least there is that," while Meg grinned.

Christine also told them about his physical deformities, both those he was born with and those he suffered during his terrible life before her. While she skirted over the details, she gave enough so that both women could try to understand that Christine was in this for love and nothing else. How could they possibly doubt her intentions?

After a while, her mother fetched her a glass of water, and the three of them fell into a weighty silence. Rain had started to pelt against the window.

"What now?" Meg breathed.

"I don't know," Christine admitted.

And that was when a hard, insistent knock happened upon the door, and all three of them jumped.

"I… have no idea who that is," Christine said, slowly standing up from the bed.

Meg tugged at her sleeve. "Maybe they'll go away?"

They spent long seconds listening, but the rap of knuckles against wood sounded again. There was no peephole at the door for Christine to see who it was.

After a moment, Christine's phone made a sound to indicate she had a text.

From Nadir.

That is me at the door.

She could easily text back that her mother and best friend were there, and that now was a really bad time. If she wanted to keep those two parts of her life separate, now was the time to make that decision. But she was so tired of lying and covering up the truth, of giving partial information or running away from anything.

She walked over to the door and opened it.

Nadir stood there with a small traveling bag, his long coat dripping rainwater.

She raised an eyebrow at him, well aware that the two women behind her were wide-eyed and listening to every word. "Why are you wet?"

"I had the cabbie drop me off several blocks away."

"Paranoid, as always, Nadir?"

"I'm afraid I have every right to be, Christine." He peered over her shoulder. "Is this... should I come back later?"

She heaved a sigh and stepped aside. "Nadir, this is my mother and my best friend, and I'm so tired of secrets. Anything you need to say to me about Erik, you can also say in front of them."

He gave her a long, measuring look, his brown eyes warm as always. For a second, she thought he might step away, to decide that there was no way he was bringing two more people into whatever mess he was about to drop on their laps. She found she was holding her breath.

Anna said slowly, "Hey, aren't you… Christine's professor?"

Nadir stepped into the room, white teeth flashing as he smiled in greeting, his hand raised to shake hers. "I believe we have met before, but that was a long time ago, and under false pretenses. My name is Nadir Khan, and I am a friend of Erik."

As Christine closed the door behind him, she knew they were in for a long night. She helped him out of his coat and set his bag to the side. "Might as well explain from the beginning, Nadir," she said, giving him an approving nod. "Tell them about the first day we met."

He grimaced, clearly remembering the near-strangling Erik had given him. "Is this the road you really want to go down?"

She couldn't help it. She stepped closer to him and gave him a big hug, so happy to see him again after so many weeks.

"I'm ready."

Erik shows up in the next chapter - promise!