Christine set her tea aside and smiled at the sight before her. Erik was still fast asleep on her bed with his face half-buried against the pillow, his arms holding it close. The blankets were tangled around his body and moved in a slow rhythm with his breathing. It was the first time she had ever truly seen him sleep. Before they succumbed to fatigue in one another's arms the previous night, Erik had confessed that he had never before spent the night in a real bed, let alone in the company of another.

"But what of the bed in your home? The one I slept in so many times..."

"That was only for you, Christine. I never stayed there."

"Then where-"

"It doesn't matter. I've always had difficulty sleeping. Maybe tonight, with you here, that will change."

Christine sat on the edge of her bed and ran her hand through Erik's hair. He didn't stir one bit. He had been right; once he had fallen asleep, it seemed as though he hadn't moved an inch. The lines on his brow finally relaxed, as did the eternal grimace across his scars. He almost looked younger. She smiled again and kissed his cheek.

"Erik?"

He moved at the sound of her voice and groaned.

"Erik, wake up. It's nearly noon."

"Hmm?" Erik lifted his head and opened one eye, the bright sunlight making him squint. "Christine?"

"Who else?" she laughed.

"Shut the curtains," he mumbled while shoving his face into the pillow. "It's too bright."

"No, you need some sunlight. Your poor skin is so pale." Christine tried to roll him over, but he refused to budge. "Erik-"

A sharp knock on her door made her visibly jump, but the voice that followed made her go ashen.

"Christine? I'm home. May I come in?"

Raoul. Christine grabbed Erik's shoulders and shook him. "Erik, get up. You have to hide!" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it had its effect. He shot off the bed, grabbed his stray bits of clothing and shoes, and then hurried to hide behind the oversized draperies at the window. Christine fixed the tie of her robe and took a moment to straighten the bed before taking a seat at her vanity.

"Come in," she called with a trace of fear.

Raoul burst through the door still dressed in his overcoat. A large smile spread across his face as he moved to kiss her square on the lips. It took her breath away, but not for the reason Raoul assumed. She pulled away and frowned.

"What was that for?"

Raoul touched her cheeks and smiled again. "Christine...I missed you so much. You look...radiant. How are you feeling? I heard that you've been happy these past couple days. Considering how I left, I can only guess the reason is-"

"No, Raoul, I'm not with child."

His face fell and he retreated a step. "Oh. But...Louis said-"

"I saw him for thirty seconds and didn't trade a single word with him. I don't understand why he came to my door in the first place. You know my feelings for the man," Christine snapped.

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry," he sighed while taking a knee next to her. He gently took both of her hands in his and chewed his lip.

"For what? Sending Louis to my door? Or..."

"Everything."

Christine narrowed her eyes but didn't pull her hands away. "Your letter-"

"I know. I didn't mean it. Please believe me when I say that none of this is your fault. After Philippe died, I didn't expect things to change for me like this. I didn't think marrying you would cause any difficulties. But it seems...that isn't the case."

"When would you like me to move out?"

"What?" Raoul breathed as his jaw dropped.

Christine shrugged and finally looked up at him. "You plan to divorce me, I assume."

"Divorce...? No. No! Why would I ever want that? I love you," he said while kissing her hands.

"I've ruined your life."

"Stop it. Never say or think such things again. I'm so sorry for everything you've suffered...that I've done... Please, Christine...can we start again?"

Her brow furrowed as she studied his eyes. Instead of the cold Vicomte that had left her two days past, she saw only Raoul before her. The same Raoul she fell in love with years ago, who captured her heart at the Opera, and rescued her from the labyrinth like a daring knight without armor. His blue eyes shone with the same love that entranced her so long ago, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Raoul... I wish more than anything that things could be as they were...that we could have been happy in this life together." She looked down at their hands and slowly sighed. "But it isn't possible."

Raoul's breath caught and he reached to touch her cheek, but Christine batted his hand away. His pleading eyes almost made her turn back, but she steeled herself and continued on.

"We haven't been happy. Not since before my last performance at the Opera."

"When that devil tried to kill us both, and succeeded in killing my brother!" Raoul snapped, his eyes growing cold again.

Christine shook her head and said, "No. When I willingly kissed him in front of you."

A snarl escaped his lips and he pulled his hands away from hers to stand over her. "That disgusting image haunts me every night. That you would even want to touch that...that thing. It turns my stomach."

"Is that why you won't kiss me when you're on top of me?" The words were bitter and razor sharp, but Christine maintained a quiet air and steady voice.

Raoul's anger faltered, his retort catching in his throat. Instead he took a step back and tightened his jaw. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't pretend. We're not children anymore. You know precisely what I mean."

The sound of his teeth grinding filled the room, and he finally threw up his hands in defeat. "All right! I admit it! I can't kiss you when we make love, but not because of him. It's because I never see love in your eyes for me...only...revulsion." Raoul moved across the room to stare out the window. He shook his head and sighed. "You don't love me anymore, do you, Christine?"

"Raoul-"

"Say it. I know it's true."

Christine moved towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "That young boy I was friends with...who grew up into the dashing young Vicomte who wooed me on the Opera rooftop...I still love him. But...I'm afraid he's gone," she whispered.

"He isn't gone. He's standing here before you," he replied while turning to face her, his hands turned upwards in surrender. "He just sees things more clearly now."

Christine's brow knitted in confusion. "More clearly?"

"I'm a Vicomte, Christine, but I should be the Comte of this county. But certain...circumstances have held me back."

"Are you blaming me for all of this?"

"No. Never. The only blame should fall upon me. I've been so obsessed with how the other nobles of the county will perceive me...us...that I've forgotten one important thing: they are beneath me. I don't owe them a damn thing. If they don't approve of me or you, then they can all go to Hell. You are my wife, and I love you. And I refuse to let anyone come between us ever again." He rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss both of her cheeks. "I swear to love you again as I once did. I will love you tirelessly, until I see your eyes brighten once again at the sight of me. I want us to work, Christine. I want to grow old with you."

At first Christine didn't resist to fall into his embrace, but the lingering scent of her Angel, who stood less than a meter away, made her tense up and step back. Raoul's hands fell defeated at his sides as she shook her head.

"Christine?"

"A Comte needs an heir. I can't give you that."

"I know. We can figure that out later. Right now...all I care about is you."

"'Figure it out later?' What exactly does that mean, Raoul? You'll find another woman to have a child by you and pose it as being my own?" She took a step towards him and narrowed her eyes. "Or have you already found her?"

His face darkened and he had to consciously grip the side of his coat to prevent his hand from flying. "Be careful," he warned.

Christine laughed and shoved past him. "Why? What else can you do to me? You already force yourself on me nearly every night since we were married."

"I have never forced myself on you!" he roared. "What do you take me for, Christine? That monster you used to follow around like some pathetic schoolgirl? Have you forgotten how he was moments away from violating you when I broke into that vile pit he called a home?"

"I refuse to discuss him with you. All that...you could never understand it."

"Understand what exactly? How you claim to love that...that thing? Even after he threatened both of our lives? After he murdered my brother?" He narrowed his eyes and grabbed her by the elbow. "You still love him, don't you?"

"Raoul, let go of me," she snapped while yanking free of his grasp.

"You do! That's what this is all about! You're still in love with that devil!"

"Raoul-"

"What if he's dead, Christine? Would you still go on obsessing over a ghost? A real ghost this time?"

"He isn't dead," she whispered, a distant look in her eyes.

Raoul laughed and said, "And how can you be sure of that? The Opera burned to the ground! We left him behind. The police haven't found him, even with the detailed description I gave them of his abhorrent face. If you could call it that."

"Stop it."

"What? Speaking the truth? He was a freak of nature. His father should have killed him in his crib. If my child looked like that-"

Christine didn't let him finish. Her open palm connected with his face and sent a sharp cracking sound through the room. Raoul jerked to the side and cupped his reddening cheek as he attempted to stifle a grunt of pain.

"Don't you ever say such things. You would kill your own child?! Our child?" Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Maybe it is a good thing I can't have children. I wouldn't want you near them!"

Raoul slowly drew his hand away from his cheek to see a small spot of blood where Christine's wedding ring had cut him. He gritted his teeth again to quell the rage in his chest before standing tall to face her. The coldness in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.

"Yes. If my child looked like a twisted demon from the pits of Hell, I wouldn't think twice to destroy it. Such a creature has no place in my family, and has no right to my name."

"Well you won't have to worry about it. Because you and I will never have a child. Your name will die with you. As it should," she added with a biting edge to her voice.

No more words were traded for several minutes. They simply stared at one another with growing hatred in their eyes. A slight flutter of the curtain reminded Christine of her angel's presence, and she took a deep breath for strength.

"Just leave me alone, Raoul. I don't wish to see you anymore. Leave me to pack my things. I'll depart by nightfall and you'll never hear from me again. You can tell everyone I fell ill and died. I don't care."

"And why would I do that?"

"So you won't have to shame your name anymore, so it won't bear the stain of divorce."

"Divorce?" Raoul laughed. "You think I'm going to allow that?"

"That's why I said-"

"You're not leaving me," he growled. "You're not moving a step from this room. Not until you come to your damn senses."

Christine sneered and shook her head in exasperation. "My senses?"

Raoul moved towards the bedroom door and paused, only looking over his shoulder. "You're my wife. And you will stay in here until you learn to play the part."

"And if I die in here?"

"Then so be it."

Without another word or glance, he slipped through the door. The clanking of metal sounded as he locked the door with a key, which he deposited into his pocket. His fading footsteps down the hall echoed into the bedroom, and Christine sank onto the vanity stool in shock. She stared at her hands and struggled not to shake with fear. Seconds later, the pale white fingers of her angel slid through hers. When she looked up, his unmasked face hovered before hers, his eyes filled with pain. Christine subdued a cry and reached for him. Erik drew her into his arms and kissed her cheek.

"Erik..."

"I'm here."

"I told you," she cried, "he hates me!"

"Shush. None of that talk."

"But...you heard him. I'm his prisoner."

"The window is unlocked."

Her fingers gripped his back as she shook her head. "I can't run into the night. If he were to find me... I have nowhere to go."

"Come with me. To my home."

"To your... But, I thought...the Opera-"

"I don't live there anymore, Christine. I found a new home."

"Where?"

"It's difficult to explain. I can take you there. Tonight if you wish."

For a long moment, Christine stared out the window while considering his offer. She chewed her lip and tried to imagine where he would take her this time, if it was deep in the bowels of the city's sewers, or perhaps in some dark corner of the forest. The frightening reality of his old home still haunted her dreams some nights, and it caused her to slowly shake her head.

"No."

"Christine-"

"No, Erik. I can't. I won't run off into the night again."

"But the Vicomte-"

"I will deal with him. He can't keep me locked in here forever."

Erik took a deep breath and nodded, his hands tightening on hers. "I don't want anything to happen to you. If he hurts you..."

"I can take care of myself if I must. Raoul is quick to anger, but he's foolish when his temper rises. You should know that."

He failed to suppress a smile and pulled her into his arms. "All men are fools. Particularly when women drive them to madness."

"I know. I've seen it before."

"What will you do?"

Christine shrugged and laid a hand against his scars. "I'll talk to him again. Maybe...if I catch him in a good mood...he'll listen."

Erik nodded and kissed her palm. "Do you want me to stay?"

Her lip trembled as she drew him into a gentle hug. "Can you?"

"Until tonight. Then I must return home. I can't stay away for too long."

Christine tightened her embrace on him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not abandoning me. Even after...I abandoned you."

"I won't ever leave you, Christine. You're all I have."