Destiny Takes Time | By : GueritaSalome Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 19824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 22 – Moving On
As the days passed and Erik resigned himself to the fact that he would likely never see Christine again, he tried to keep himself occupied. He wrote a few new pieces of music, one of which was a lullaby, though he did not know where the inspiration had come from. Occasionally he ventured out of his lair to lurk about and watch what went on at rehearsals, but he no longer really cared how things were run. A new girl had been brought in to be leading lady. In Erik’s opinion, she sang better than Carlotta, but was nowhere near as good as Christine was. It didn’t matter who took her place, though; it was all the same to him.
“How are you doing, Erik?” Madame Giry asked as she entered his study and found him reading.
“I am well,” he answered, without glancing up from his book
At least he didn’t appear to be drunk at the present moment.
“I realized I hadn’t come by in a while and wanted to see you,” she said.
“Have you heard from Christine?” he asked.
Anne felt awful. More often than not, he asked about her whenever his friend came to check on him. She hadn’t planned on telling him anything, but decided that perhaps if she at least let him know something that it might satisfy his curiosity for a time.
“Yes, we just got a letter from her.”
“I trust that she is doing well?” he inquired, almost afraid of the answer.
“She is fine from what she has told us,” Anne replied, hoping that he wouldn’t press her further.
The news that Christine was married to Raoul and that they were expecting a child had reached Anne. However, she could not bring herself to tell Erik. It would be too cruel to let him know the whole truth. Though no one ever told her, she had the feeling that there had been something more than a simple teacher-student relationship between him and Christine before she fled the opera house. For her to have left with another man and now be carrying his child would surely hurt Erik deeply, and he’d already suffered enough. He knew that Christine exchanged letters with Meg and her mother, and he’d been told that she was well. Anne saw no point in telling him the rest.
“That is all you know right now?” he continued. “Is she with anyone?” He’d long suspected that she might be with the vicomte.
“No, she is with no one that I know of, Erik. Christine has not mentioned anyone in her letters,” she lied, trying as best she could to sound natural.
“I see,” he said stoically, flipping a page in his book.
It worried Anne that he seemed so indifferent. Erik had never been so cold toward her before that she could remember. She would have preferred to have him answer her crudely or behave in a manner that showed he was feeling some kind of emotion. The man she saw before her appeared to be only an empty shell, completely the opposite of his former self.
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Christine sat with her hands folded over the mound of her midsection. She only had a couple of months left before her child would be born.
“Raoul, I’ve been thinking, and I want Madame Giry to be with me when I have the baby. I want to go back to Paris.”
“You aren’t planning on telling her that it’s not my child, are you?” he asked warily, knowing how close she was to her foster mother.
“Of course not. I’ve already written to her and Meg and told them that we’re married and that I’m expecting. No one suspects anything. I just want to be near them. They’re the closest thing I have to a family, you know,” Christine answered as she absent-mindedly stroked her stomach.
How jealous he was of the man whose bastard was stretching her waistline.
“Are you sure that you will be able to endure the ride? Paris is quite a long way from here,” he reminded her, hoping that she would say no.
“Yes, Raoul, I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “What do you say? Will you help me?”
Raoul still had the hope that once Christine gave birth, if he could show her that he accepted her child, she might have a change of heart and want him as her husband. Everything he did or said was with patience. If he hoped to win her love, it was necessary that he show understanding.
He nodded. “I believe that could be arranged. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find you a place to stay that would suit your needs while you finish out the rest of your confinement.”
“Thank you,” she said, and for the first time in weeks, she smiled at him.
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