Arms full of bouquets of flowers, Christine waited for her dresser to open her dressing room door.
She cracked the door and smiled.
"He's already in there isn't he?" Christine whispered.
"It's been an honor, Miss Daae," the woman curtsied and walked away.
The Soprano let out a little whimper before pushing the door completely open.
"My Prima donna may be officially retired but the muse lives on!" Erik lay stretched out on the settee, , reaching his arms up and out to her.
"Please don't, I'm already crying," Christine dropped all the flowers to one side dressing room door. She then closed and locked the door, "Did I do the right thing?"
"I cannot answer that for you, Angel. I have tried and you have often not liked my answers."
The Diva let out a slight sob as she wiped her eyes, smearing the kohl around them. She finally walked over and sat on her vanity's chair facing her husband, "Did I though?"
"Other singers have retired around your age, if that makes you feel better. And you did say earlier this year this was what you wanted." Erik removed his mask so she could see his full smile, "I know this wasn't the career you planned on retiring from but..."
"I have no right to complain about any career," tears ran down her cheeks leaving a light trail of black from the kohl. "You're the only reason I had one. First in Paris, then here. And don't forget, I alone turned down new contracts at the Met."
"Very true. However somewhere in that past we are not to dwell on, your last performance brings down the Garnier, figuratively. All of Paris weeps. I sit in Box 5 openly known as your husband, my days as the Opera Ghost over. Our eight children sit with me." He smiles large at her, exposing all his teeth.
Christine laughed as she wiped her cheeks, "Is that a fantasy you allow yourself? Also eight children!? How would I have time to sing? And how did you come to that number?"
"I just figured we'd have several more without ten years of separation between us."
"I too have thought that." Christine turned her head, "However, it's been five years since Arthur and no other child. And you know we're not the most careful…Something happened to my womb with Arthur's delivery."
"Dr. Bundy saved your life, damn your womb!" Erik exclaimed as he sat up.
Christine's eyes widened at her husband's outburst.
Erik sighed and rubbed his forehead, her reaction the opposite of what he was trying to convey, "I'm sorry, Christine, it's just tonight is supposed to be a celebration of your career. Honoring the angelic singer the world loves. They've been setting up a party in your…"
"What do you mean damn my womb?" Christine turned to the mirror of her vanity. She opened her jar of cold cream. "You were the one who wanted more children."
He opened his arms, "Angel please."
"How excited you were when you thought I forgot to put my diaphragm in. But your seed from that morning was already in my 'damn womb' giving me Authur even though I douched after," She rubbed the cold cream on her face and then wiped it off with a towel, removing her make up.
Erik jumped up from the seatee, "Damn it, Christine! What is the meaning of this?"
She spun around, "You really don't know? Are you still really that dense?"
His face squinched in perplexation.
"You speak of a fantasy in which we have a large family in one breath, then do not care that I am now infertile in another!" Christine's arms widely gestured.
"You're alive and that's all that matters!" Erik yanked his wig off and threw it across the room. He ran both of his hands through his thin locks as he paced. "You've almost died in my arms twice! Twice!"
"But what about how I feel, Erik?" She stood. "All I've ever been is a singer and a mother. After tonight I won't be singing and with my damaged womb, I will never give birth again. What am I to do? Who am I?"
"You're still a mother. Arthur is still going to be here for quite some time. And Tilda and Charlotte still need you. And you're also my wife."
She groaned and started pulling off her costume, "Am I though? Everything we've done together has been for Phantasma and the children."
"Not for Phantasma but the music, our music!" He grabbed her hands and held them tight.
Christine stood there the top half of the green costume dress hanging at her waist, "But it hasn't been our music in so long. We've been sharing it with Phantasma or it's been created for Phantasma. When was the last time we've done or created something that was just for us?" She let go of his hands and pushed the strap of her chemise back up on her shoulder. She then finished removing the costume and wrapped herself in a dressing robe. "I'm going to have to find myself again, Erik," The Soprano reclined onto the Settee. "Or at least find who I am outside of being a singer."
Erik bend over and picked the costume up. He draped it awkwardly over his arm, "That will still include being my wife, correct?"
She giggled and smiled at him, "Yes, though I do have a question."
The Phantom nodded his head.
"What are your plans for after Phantasma?"
"What do you mean?"
The Soprano sat up, "You don't want to keep working the park until you die, do you?"
"I always believed I would pass it on to Gustave," Erik draped the costume over the back of the settee before sitting down next to his wife. "However, he has made it clear he's happy with his new life and job. And Charlotte is still too young."
"Have you asked Gustave if he's interested?" Christine placed her hand gently on her husband's thigh.
Erik arched his good eyebrow, "What do you mean? Why do you ask?"
"It's just that you've never discussed any future plans with me. Like here I am retiring but have you considered it? You've been at this much longer and far more involved than I."
The Phantom rubbed his forehead, "Retire? And do what?"
She lifted her hand off his thigh and smacked his chest, "Spend time with me! With our children. You said yourself Gustave was running the place quite well when you were out sick. Without the park and theatre taking up so much of our time, you and I can really discover each other again, truly heal the past in ways we haven't yet." Christine caressed her husband's neck before gently cupping the damaged side of his face, "I know there are parts of you I still haven't seen."
"Likewise, Angel," He spoke softly as he leaned in and kissed her. Before it got too passionate, he pulled away. "So did you want to get dressed and accompany me to your party?"
She still held his face, "No I do not. At least not until you give me an answer."
"An answer about retiring?"
"Yes. I was already looking into things we can do this winter and there is a lovely hotel in Florida, The Tampa Hotel. The children can come but the hotel requires they stay on a separate floor with nannies and only visit. The hours we would have together," She smiled large at him. "Time away from the cold, and they have all sorts of music! We can be entertained for once instead of being the entertainment!"
The Phantom pulled away from his wife and looked towards the door.
"Erik?"
"But we already have plans for next season. We're going to direct Don Juan Triumphant. I thought you were excited about that. What if I retire after next season?"
"Erik!" Christine snapped. "Erik, really?" She forcefully turned his head back to face her. "If not now, then when? One season will turn into two and then…"
The Phantom chuckled, "Well there is one part of me you know."
Christine wrapped her arms around her Angel. She leaned back onto the settee pulling him on top of her. He rested his head softly on her chest and listened to her beating heart. He closed his eyes and sighed as she massaged his scalp with her nails.
"Think, Angel this could be all winter." She hummed softly.
"What if we compromise, Christine?" He lifted one of his hands to her chest. His thumb grazed back and forth over one of her nipples that peaked through her chemise. "What if I relinquish running the park and only direct Don Juan Triumphant next season? Then I fully retire. And we can still spend all winter in Florida."
She stopped humming, "I said this could be all winter. There is no compromising."
"I find a little compromise only fair," Erik turned to be laying on his side. He now cupped his whole hand over her breast. "You planned your retirement. You knew tonight was your last night singing. You ask this of me when I was not even considering it."
The Diva twirled some of his hair around her finger. She sighed, "You are correct."
The Phantom smiled, "Good. I'll talk to Gustave in the morning. And what about your party?"
Christine closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tighter around him, "I am quite content here."
Author Note: The Tampa Hotel was a real hotel in Tampa, Florida that opened in 1891 and operated until 1932. Though it's peak days were 1891-early 1900s. It was a who's who's of where the Nouveau Riche came and stayed during the winter months. It was only open from October to March. The building is now part of The University of Tampa with one part of it home to The Henry Plant Museum, named after the man who created the hotel and brought the railroad to the west coast for Florida. The museum is set up to look like hotel would have in the 1890s.