Too Hurtful To Even Try

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Christine's American debut came like an unrealistic dream.

She awoke, her heart full, yet her mind tortured. For what was about to lie ahead.

Raoul was curled beside her, arm draped around her middle, and Christine felt an instant pang of self hatred.

In honesty, what had Raoul done but love her? Sure, he had his faults, but hers were far greater in comparison.

Christine slid from his embrace and felt him stir but not waken. She crept silently into the other room, her mess of curls falling down her back and touching her waist. The long white night rail she wore was warm and she removed it, leaving a thin nightgown that hugged her skin.

"Maman," a voice said behind her.

Christine turned band faced Gustave, forcing a smile onto her face. "Oh Gustave..." she murmured. Her son's expression was tense and almost angry. Christine swallowed, tears forming in her eyes. But suddenly he dashed to her and embraced her tightly.

"He is just like me," Gustave said as Christine kissed his dark waves.

"I know, my dearest, I know." She whispered against his head. "Can you forgive me?"

He pulled away and gazed at her, "There was nothing you could do, Maman." Gustave hugged her again. "Would you ever have told me?"

Christine nodded, "Yes. When you reached sixteen I was going to take you to the Opera Populaire and to where I first met...." she swallowed.

"My father?" Gustave dared say. "Or Erik, as he tells me you call him."

She sighed and didn't say a word. Her silence seemed to be enough for Gustave.

Christine held her son close, the thoughts of his father- his real father- consuming her mind. Love for both men ran through her, breaking her apart and yet making her heart swell in happiness.

"Do you love him?" Gustave asked, pulling away fully and raising to his full height. He was almost as tall as her.

Christine cast she gaze down, "Very much."

"Are you going to elope?"

Christine chuckled, "What an idea! Of course not, my son." She kissed his cheek and looked at him sadly. "I have made my bed and now I just lie in it. Please, do not mention anything to your... father," she gestured to the bedroom. "Or your brother."

Gustave nodded, "Of course not."

Christine sighed deeply, "Gustave... forgive me for living in this disgusting lie! I could hardly take it..." She wanted her angel. She wanted her angel so very badly... she wanted to take her boys and stay here with Erik. But how could she do that to poor Raoul?

Gustave seemed to understand.

~~~~~~

Christine sat in her dressing room, gazing upon her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was done up in a beautiful twist, but Gustave and Enzo agreed she should leave some of it down.

Now, almost half of her chestnut ringlets fell down the front of the white nightgown she wore to cover her dress, and the other part was pilled in a braided bun that complimented her elegantly.

"Gustave- hand me those earrings," Christine murmured, her eyes not leaving her reflection. "The diamond ones on the left."

He did just so, and swiftly she locked them into place.

She turned and smiled at her boys. Her innocent, beautiful boys. "There. How do I look?"

Enzo's watery blue gaze was fixated upon his mother as his little blonde head craned up at her. "You look so beautiful, Maman!" He giggled as she kissed his cheek.

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