There will be another chapter posted very soon since I'm almost done with Ch 37, but please oh please leave me a review and let me know you're reading!
Chapter 36
Despite the scars on my face and the preconceptions others held that I was diseased, I maintained excellent health for the most part over the years. Occasionally my body betrayed me and I fell ill, but not nearly as of often as Meg, who seemed to catch every sniffle in Paris, or Charles, whose wife shared everything with him.
Ruby, however, had no idea I was very rarely sick, and when she walked into the dining room first thing in the morning, she screamed and immediately grabbed my outstretched arm to check my pulse, evidentally thinking I had dropped dead.
I suppose it was mostly my fault for never properly retiring for the night. Once Lisette and I shared a cookie and she went off to bed, I sat up a while longer to compose and had no recollection of dozing off.
"I apologize," Ruby said quite breathlessly as she grabbed a rag from the kitchen to mop up the mess. "You scared me half to death."
"My fully false death scared you half to death?" I said under my breath.
Ruby attempted to hide her amusement. "Yes, I suppose it did. I did not expect to find you like this, Monsieur."
"Nor did I expect to be found like this."
The coffee I had not drank had spilled when she jolted me from sleep and flowed like a waterfall from the edge of the table onto the dining room floor. Both Bessie and Aria came to investigate but quickly discovered coffee was of no interest to either of them.
My audience grew once Julia and Alex ran into the dining room to see what had caused Ruby to scream. Alex seemed somewhat disappointed when he realized there was no bear ransacking the house, and he excused himself to start his lessons with Charles. It surprised me that he so readily left the house, but I suppose it was more that he missed his teacher rather than the lessons.
Julia immediately cocked her head to the side, planted her hands on her hips in disapproving fashion, and shook her head. "So this is why Lissy has cookie crumbs on her face and pillow and is still sound asleep at this hour," she said as she gestured toward the empty plate with a few crumbs left behind.
"It is," I admitted.
Julia seemed somewhat surprised by my words.
"She woke to a nightmare," I added. "I did not have the heart to send her away when she walked in here last night."
Julia pulled up the chair beside me and placed her hand on my forearm. She drew circles with her fingers along the back of my arm and shrugged. "She gets them from time to time."
"She told me," I said.
"Monsters," Julia sighed. I could tell by her tone that she did not take her daughter's concerns seriously.
"It's more than that," I said, keeping my voice low.
"I know." Julia paused and shook her head. "I thought she was too young to remember him."
Her words confirmed that the monster in Lisette's nightmares were indeed Louis.
Julia paused, her hand pulling away from my arm momentarily as she stared at the table. "Every time she speaks of monsters, I tell her they are not real. For the longest time I hoped she would believe me, but I think I have made her feel like I do not believe her."
I suppose from Julia's perspective attempting to convince Lisette that her dreams were not real was the only rational thing to do considering she didn't want Lisette to remember her father at all-or at least not in this manner.
"From what she described to me, her dream sounded terrifying."
Julia pursed her lips and nodded. "I'm a little surprised Lissy told you. She has not said a word to me in months and I couldn't tell you the last time she actually said what was the matter."
"She said I saved her before she woke up," I said, keeping my voice low. My greatest fear was Lisette overhearing me repeat the words she had said in private. I did not want to keep anything from Julia while at the same time I did not want to betray Lisette's trust in me.
Julia's eyebrows shot up. "You saved her in her dream?"
"Yes. She said I played the violin and he disappeared." I decided it was best not to tell Julia the exact way Lisette had worded it, which was he exploded, like wood in a fire. Nothing could have brought me greater joy than the image of Louis Seuratti exploding in flames and resurrected in hell only to explode repeatedly for the rest of time.
"I am not sure that's a compliment on your playing," Julia commented as she caught me smiling to myself for a completely different reason.
"My thoughts exactly."
Julia once again began drawing circles on my forearm with her fingers. The sensation was calming, and as I studied her face, I forgot about Louis. "Lisette is very fond of you. I think she was worried that you would not have room for her."
"Room for her?" I asked incredulously. "There is more than enough space in the house."
"No, I meant in your life. With all of the time you spend with Alex, I think she worried about being left out."
"I should spend more time with Alex than I do."
"He is a forgiving boy," Julia said.
A trait he undoubtedly did not inherit from me.
"And Lissy needs someone she can confide in. I think if she wakes up scared again she will come to you instead of me."
"It is not something I wish we had in common," I said as I scanned over the papers laid out before me. I had arranged many letters my cousin Joshua had given to me in chronological order, but had not actually read them yet as I fell asleep at the table. I considered myself fortunate nothing was ruined by the coffee spilling.
"I know," Julia said dolefully. "I see you were both awake for the same reason." Her fingers spread over my wrist in a loose hold and she offered a reassuring smile.
There was no use denying her words. I sighed heavily and straightened one of the envelopes. "How did you know?"
"Why you never came to bed?"
I nodded.
"You become quiet-more quiet than usual," she answered. She moved closer, her knee touching mine, her fingers moving from my wrist to settle over my hand. "And you're distant even though you tell me you're thinking, but there is a difference."
"How so?" I asked. My brow furrowed and I found myself fascinated by the way she knew me. For so long I had convinced myself that I was truly an enigmatic ghost.
Julia smiled, appreciating the question. "I still remember the first time you fell asleep beside me. I could tell earlier in the evening that you were not yourself even though you said it was nothing more than your music, but when it's your music, you grumble."
I grunted. On more than one occasion Madeline had told me to stop grumbling when she was the one interrupting me. Her audacity never ceased to amaze me, and no matter how many times I growled for her to shut the door, she insisted on joining me.
"When it's something else, you keep it to yourself." Julia leaned forward and touched my cheek. Her gaze settled on my lips. "And I could always tell you were exhausted from purposely keeping yourself awake, such as the first time you fell asleep in my bed. I was worried about you that night, which is why I insisted you go upstairs."
I narrowed my eyes. "You knew?"
"I knew you were exhausted and that there was very little chance of you doing anything else for the night other than sleeping." She offered a sly smile before kissing me lightly on the lips.
"I could have done much more than sleep," I insisted, feeling the need to defend my manhood.
Julia ignored my words. "And then I fell asleep beside you and woke when you did."
It was more than simply waking when I did. I woke shouting and tearing at the bedsheets, desperately attempting to work my way out of a nightmare.
It was a violent clash of iron shackles, pools of blood, and mounds of black dirt. I was stalked by a red-eyed beast, having a pistol held to my temple head and hiding beneath a burning wagon. I was still paralyzed by liquor-infused fighting, a woman whose face I never saw and a man with a face I wished to never remember. It was my father, the Sultana, Garouche and myriad other faces in a crowd.
Worst of all, it was burying the first person who had ever loved me-and the first person I had ever truly loved.
"I did not want you to know," I said under my breath. Almost worse than having Julia see me without the mask was her knowing the fears that had plagued me for a lifetime. I had grown accustomed to my role as an opera ghost, more powerful deity than man. Not one person-save Madeline-knew anything of my past and after decades of hiding, I was not easily pried out.
Julia frowned at me. "Back then you did not want me to know anything about you." She poked me in the chest, against my heart. "But little by little, I have found a way into there."
"You've always been there," I admitted. I looked from her to the collection of letters. "One of the few."
"Then I am honored. How many letters have you read so far?"
"None."
Julia gave me a quizzical look. "Why not?"
My mood instantly darkened. "Every time I look inside one of the envelopes, I think of my uncle's death and how I buried him." I looked away from her briefly, my chest aching and breaths ragged. It had been many years since I had thought of his death, but no amount of time seemed to close the wound I had created. "Within weeks of his burial I convinced myself his eyes opened just as the last scoop of dirt covered his face and by that time the fair was too far away and I knew I would never be able to find him again and see for myself. It didn't much matter. In my heart I was certain I had buried him alive."
I inhaled sharply and sat up straighter. "I have never told anyone that, not even Madeline."
Without thinking I looked to Julia and saw the horror in her eyes at my revelation. "Of course you didn't bury him alive," she said firmly.
I started to shake my head.
"You dug a grave on your own, didn't you?"
I had. "With a small shovel at first until my fingers blistered, then I used my cupped hands like an animal to move the earth into a heap behind me. I remember setting the worms aside and thinking the ground was so cold and dark. For hours I sat on my knees, intermittently digging up dirt and sobbing until I could no longer breathe."
"How long did it take?" Julia asked.
As much as I didn't want to think about it, I still answered. "The entire day. It was almost dark when I finished." In the back of my mind I could still see the dirt on his ashen face as it stuck to the blood on his lips and nostrils. I almost regretted taking one last look at him. It was still his body, but it was no longer my uncle.
"And you were alone?"
I nodded. "Completely." In every sense of the word, I had been alone.
"Erik, you did not bury him alive."
"I know."
"But-"
I looked at Julia sharply and she paused. "He wanted me to leave him before he took his last breath," I answered. "Out in the woods. Just leave him. But I couldn't leave him there, he did not deserve to die alone."
"And he didn't. He had you," she replied softly.
"I disobeyed him," I said under my breath. "I argued with him, Julia, with a man who barely had the strength to take another breath. I begged him to let me remain at his side so that I would stay with him and instead he would leave me." The words escaped my lips before I considered what I said. "He did not deserve to be left behind and forgotten in the woods. I did. I deserved to be left. I deserved nothing more than to be left there."
"Why did you think you deserved to be left behind?" she whispered.
It was more than merely thinking I deserved to be left behind. The very essence of my being revolved around knowing I was nothing.
"Erik, I think-"
"Because I was worthless," I blurted out before she could disagree with me. In many ways, I still felt a lack of worth. "Because he was everything to me and I was nothing. I was absolutely nothing and he deserved something greater than mine as the last face he ever saw. He deserved so much more than this." I pointed a trembling finger at the right side of my face.
Julia sat very still, her eyes clouded with tears. At long last I felt as though I had finally admitted to myself what I had ignored for so long, what had truly kindled the hatred I felt so deep inside for myself. Thirty years and I still felt the need to be punished for my disobedience. My father would have needed no prompting to beat me bloody whereas my uncle had not once laid a heavy hand on me. Even in his last moments, when he asked me to play the violin for him one last time, I knew what he truly wanted was to distract me from his death. With his last breaths he still attempted to protect me.
"If I read every single one of these letters, do you think I would find a single phrase where he would have wanted you to feel this way?" Julia asked. She didn't wait for me to reply. "Please do not punish yourself, Erik not for a single moment longer."
"Why not?" I asked. There was a vicious edge to my voice that I immediately recognized and deeply regretted.
Julia did not so much as bat an eye at my tone.
"Because you dishonor his life and his love for you," she answered plainly. Without asking my permission, Julia reached for the envelope nearest her and pulled out the letter inside. She unfolded it, rested her elbow on the table, and silently read to herself.
"What are you doing?" I asked after a while.
"Meeting your uncle," she murmured before she handed me the letter and opened another envelope, which she momentarily set aside. She smiled, leaned forward, and cupped my cheek in her hand. The agitation I had felt since the previous night slowly faded. "You should refresh your memory of him."
