The Aftermath(Phantom Of The Opera)

Chapter 9- And Then It Was Quiet.

It was no more than four months after Christine and Raoul returned from their honeymoon. Raoul was often gone on business trips, but when he was home, Christine tried her best to focus on making him happy.

"Christine?" Raoul called out. But there was no reply. As he drew closer to their bedroom, he could hear what sounded like someone was violently ill, and he sighed. She'd been sick for the last week. When he opened the door to the bathroom, Christine sat in front of the toilet, shaking and wiping sweat from her face. "Are you all right?"

"I should have known," Christine said, her voice raspy.

"Known what? You're frightening me." Raoul sat down next to her, holding her small hands in his

Christine didn't speak. She only held her hands against her stomach. At first, Raoul took this as a sign of sickness, but as she remained still and frigid, Raoul realized what she'd meant.

"My God, Christine, this is wonderful!" Raoul grinned, kissing her cheek. Her eyes were angrier now, smothered with betrayal.

"Wonderful? Did you mean for this to happen, Raoul?" Christine said, spitting through her teeth.

"Christine, I'm not-"

"You promised! You promised we'd wait! I thought you understood! How could you do this? You promised me!" She screeched, hitting his chest with as much force as she could use, which was surprisingly a lot for how frail of a girl she was.

"Christine, I didn't mean for it to happen! But can't we be happy it did? You said we'd have a child at some point. It just came sooner than expected," Raoul reasoned.

"I never wished for it to come so soon! I don't want this," Christine cried.

"How could you say that? It's your own flesh and blood!"

"I don't want a child!"

And then there was quiet. Raoul never thought those words would come out of her mouth. It was his biggest fear, truly. All he'd ever wanted was a beautiful family with Christine. And she wanted the exact opposite. Perhaps, she didn't want him either.

Christine quickly noticed the expression on Raoul's face change. She spoke softly, cautiously,"Raoul, I didn't mean..."

"I know what you meant, Christine," Raoul said, holding his hand up to keep her from talking. "I need a drink," he sighed. And then he left.

Christine sat on their bed, and she held her stomach and cried. She forgot who she felt bad for. She forgot why she'd started crying in the first place, but none of that mattered anymore. She'd ruined everything.

Raoul didn't want her.

Erik would come back.

Her life would return to the hellish state it used to be.

"No," she whispered to herself, as the room began to darken. She lit a candle, wanting to wait up until Raoul got home. "He promised you he'd never let Erik take you again. Raoul's a good man. He promised."

The door slammed. Christine flinched. He was certainly drunk now. Heavy steps followed and stopped outside her door. She froze, waiting for Raoul to come in. The door slowly opened.

Raoul's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked rather messy. It was something you never saw in the Vicomte. It was something that frightened Christine.

His gaze met hers, and he was met with her look of sympathy. He walked over to Christine, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. She sighed in relief, and breathed in.

She smelt no alcohol. The truth was that he really didn't go to a bar, as he'd previously planned. He sat in the stables, and he thought about it all. He thought about why he'd fell for her in the first place. He thought of everything. Every moment. Every smile. Ever tear shed. He thought of it all.

"I can't express to you how sorry I am. It was so awful of me to act that way. I'm so sorry," Christine rambled.

"Christine, don't apologize. We'll get through this. I know it." Raoul pulled back to smile at her and gently kissed her hand.

      "Raoul, how are you so sure? I.. I haven't the slightest idea of how to do this." Christine was in fact clueless. Her mother died before Christine could keep any memories at all, and Madame Giry was a ballet dancer, always strict and brusque.

     "It's all right. You are not alone. I am with you, always, are we clear?" Raoul said, trying to seem more serious than he felt. He was much more full of joy. And for Raoul, there was nothing to fear. He had grown up with a father, and the Vicomte was raised rather well.

    So, he wasn't entirely frightened by the fact that he was going to have a child of his own. In fact, Raoul was entirely confident that everything would go smoothly.

   Something Raoul didn't think of at these moments was still there. Christine. There was Christine, whom Madame Giry and he had compared to glass. If Christine was, as they stated, like glass, then the changes, the cracks, would be hard to alter, nearly impossible to fix without merely getting a new piece of glass.

       Christine, though, was not replaceable, nor was it likely that the changes on her would be fixed. She was already altered so completely, so utterly. She was no longer the same person. If you were to see the woman standing on a street, you could easily identify her.

   If you were, however, given to lists of personality traits, one new and one old, you would not see many similarities. Raoul would never get hope that the glimpses of the girl he used to know would come more often, but he cherished everyone he had, nonetheless.

    "I suppose you have to leave tomorrow," Christine noted.

     "And why do you suppose that?" Raoul asked, placing a piece of her hair back into place.

      "You've been home for eight days. For the past two months, you always leave on the ninth day," she said simply. She picked up on many things. It was rare when she announced that she did.

     "Yes, I do have to go, but I'll be back in two weeks time, and I'll stay for much, much longer next time," Raoul reassured her. Christine smiled.

     "Well, we must make tonight special, then." Christine placed her hand on his cheek.

     And that night, Raoul saw more glimpses of the girl he used to know than he had in a long time.

It's been far too long! My sincerest apologies, and a warning for anybody who is not in high school yet: it's the worst. (: