The Final Act (A Phantom of the Opera Phan Fic)

Chapter Four ~ In Which They Meet Again

Alexander's POV

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I tried desperately to be quiet as I stole into my apartment. I hoped and prayed Charlotte would be away or in the bedroom. To my dissatisfaction, she stood in the kitchen cooking up a masterpiece I was sure.

"You're back early." She said with surprise, putting the kitchen knife aside and coming over to greet me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "How is your brother?"

I hesitated a moment, forgetting what I had told her I had planned on doing in Paris. "Oh...he's fine."

"He must be. You weren't suppose to be back till tomorrow afternoon."

I gulped. She had trapped me. All the new excitement and the mixed lies I was telling mashed together into one heaping mess. "Right. Well, he's getting better faster than we expected. Much, much better."

"Uh huh." Charlotte looked at me curiously, her arms tightening around the back of my neck. "What did you really go to do, Alex?"

She knew. Charlotte had always been quick minded. She could read directly through my poor lies. Well, the really poor ones that was. A good lie usually took months of planning, and then when it was executed it just barely slipped by her.

I sighed heavily and sank slightly in her hold. "I went to Paris to find sheet music."

Charlotte's brow furrowed. "Sheet music? For the Opera House?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you were composing." She moved to place her hands on my shoulders.

"Well, I lied about that too." Every confession came pouring out. I could not hide it any longer. "I'm sorry, darling. I really am! I was going to tell you...I was. It was just so difficult, and I didn't have anything to show for, and you are so into music, and I'm so out of it with the compositions...." I trailed off and hung my head. "Oh, Charlotte, I'm so sorry."

I felt so miserable. I was going to deliver these things subtly, but that did not work out at all. Now I was standing shamefully before my wife, confessing all the lies I had kept for months. Certainly, it felt good to get them off my chest, but to confess to such failure to the woman I loved was not an easy task.

Charlotte's delicate hand went to raise my chin. She fixed my eyes on her own green gems and smiled softly at me. "I'm not angry at you. I want you to know that. I'm a bit troubled that you kept all this from me, yes, but I am not angry at you, my love. Never could I be angry at you for not being able to do something you never wanted to do in the first place."

She understood me so well. That was probably one of the reasons I married her. "I still should have told you." I said, taking her hands in my own. I kissed her knuckles gently, as if it were a form of my deepest apologies. My foolish form of charm washed over me as I acted like a infant dog trying to find a way to make up with its master.

Charlotte giggled a little and moved to wrap her arms around me. She hugged me, kissed my neck and ear. "You can make it up to me by doing a few chores."

I grimaced a little but knew it was far lesser a punishment than I truly deserve. "I was hoping you would say something along the lines of a kiss or some other charming caress."

"No, no. Just chores." She teased, kissing my ear again before she moved off to finish dinner.

I sighed a little but faced my fate, tackling first the garbage before anything else. I realized the rest of the afternoon was going to be filled with chores and hard, physical labor, but it would be worth it all to apologize to my darling Charlotte. Anything for her, yet I would still keep Erik and his compositions my little secret.