chapter 20

A n apology shouldn't give me more anxiety than time traveling or possible impending doom. Yet here we are.

The show went off without a hitch. Shockingly.

There may have been some worry that Erique would make a surprise guest appearance or something. We were in his private viewing box after all. But nothing. Which didn't help with being on edge all night.

No matter how amazing Christine was doing, it was hard to focus on the opera. Which also made it hard to pay attention to the managers and the de Changys sitting not too far away, who I was supposed to be serving all night.

The air had shifted where I stood in the small, yet surprisingly spacious private box. My mind was so preoccupied, that I thought I felt Erique nearby. But it was just me.

It was still a very moving and exciting show, when I could pay attention. And it was also really neat to see my patch work and updated painting on the sets as they cycled through scenes.

Something I wished my mom could have seen. She'd be so proud. Despite our problems and how she changed so much over the past years, there were still moments when she was my mama again. I'd like to think this would have been one of them. She would have been so proud of me getting to do some sort of art for work.

Even if it was just for a few days.

Raoul grinned ear to ear with excitement watching his lovely Christine perform. He was worried when he arrived that she wouldn't like the two dozen roses he brought for her.

Yeah. Okay.

Still, a total sweetheart. It's always nice to see him.

Philippe on the other hand. Just as uptight and off putting as he was two months ago. I was relieved to see a date had walked in with him.

He stared a little, but mostly let me be. Thank God.

I wished that was the only thing that bothered me tonight. As I ran drinks and food for the occupants of box five, my mind warred with conflicting thoughts.

What was I going to say to Erique? If he didn't do something drastic that was…

Ugh. Stupid brain.

Finally, the curtain fell bringing Danser Avec Le Diable to an end. A roar of applause filled the auditorium like I'd never heard for a performance. "Bravo. Bravo," yelled out from every corner of the room. Christine was remarkable. I wiped away the tears that welled in my eyes at the beautiful conclusion.

In the same moment, the shift in the air I thought I'd felt earlier, was gone.

Please don't, Erique .

Raoul leapt from his seat and rushed from the room before anyone had the chance to comprehend what was happening.

Which was a good idea, and one I was about to follow.

"Someone's in quite the hurry to congratulate the young diva," M. LeBlanc jested.

"So, it seems," Philippe said, unamused by his brother's excitement.

M. Fournier hurried over to me as the party trickled out from the room. "Just clean up and then you may go home. Well done tonight," he said.

The curls on his head bounced as he scurried out behind the rest of the visitors before I could stop him.

Raoul was going to her. She should be fine. But what if Erique hurt him in the process?

I decided to just leave when they were gone. Which didn't take long.

"Ok," I said to myself, and headed for the door.

"Excuse me," Philippe said, returning to the room. "I had forgotten my scarf."

I was restless and irritated by his presence. Obviously. I stepped back and let him in.

"Ah. Thank you, Melody," he said. Somehow my name on his lips sounded strange. Something I didn't care for. Maybe just remnants of the uncomfortable date.

I stood waiting, eager for him to leave again so that I could go. But why? I could just leave now.

He found it quickly on the chair he had been sitting. I took the opportunity to start my escape.

"It was a good show. Were you able to enjoy it?" he asked.

I stopped and faced him. "It was my first and it was amazing."

"You've never been to a show before?" he asked, stepping closer, toying with the red scarf in his hands.

"Not opera. This was an incredible experience."

"It was," he said. "I can see how my baby brother could be so drawn to such a girl."

"Christine is a wonderful person. And clearly very good at what she does."

"Indeed," he said.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." I nodded and turned to leave.

His hand gripped my bicep, halting me in place. A shadow of annoyance on a face that he attempted to hide beneath the politician's smirk peeked out.

"Ms. Reilly." He cleared his throat and removed his hand. "How have you been faring? That is a handsome dress."

"Thank you. It has pockets." I shoved my hands in the pockets on the skirt and wiggled it around.

"So, it does," he chuckled. It almost seemed genuine. Maybe Christine was a little right about him. Not a bad guy. Everyone gets nervous.

"Where's your date?" I said, glancing around anxiously.

"Indulging with the managers. I should probably be getting back."

"Yes."

"I must admit to something."

"Ok," I said with tempered impatience.

"I hope you don't think me pathetic when I confess. I am sorry that I had you working tonight. I would have much rather this been another evening together."

"You were the reason I was requested for tonight?"

"Yes. Shameful as it is. When you hadn't responded to my letter, I wasn't sure how else to go about seeing you again."

I flinched in confusion at his comment. "You wrote me?"

"Yes, while I was in Toulouse. I had it sent to the managers addressed to you. When I did not hear back after my return home, I admit I was disappointed."

"I'm sorry. I haven't received any letters." Though I can guess where it went.

I turned my attention back to the few people trailing behind. It was getting late. I needed to leave, inching towards the exit.

"Must have been mixed in the post," he said. "It is my understanding that our evening out was not satisfactory, and I would like to apologize. My mind was focused on my trip to England. Which took much longer than it should have."

I scratched my knuckles, nearly drawing blood. I didn't think Christine would tell him. "I thought you were in Toulouse?"

"An emergency which needed my attention had come up, prolonging my absence. Again, my apologies."

"It's alright. All water under the bridge."

He stepped closer again. I stepped back.

"I would much like to make up for the mistake on my part. I should have written several times. As well as called on you when I returned. When I hadn't heard…"

"Oh, no. Philippe. It wouldn't have helped. I just really don't see us going further than we did."

The scarf he'd been wrapping around his hands and toying with pulled tight at my words. Perhaps it was my own anxiousness, but the act left me uneasy.

"I feel like you need someone better suited for you," I added, hoping to calm the tension.

My back hit the edge of the wooden threshold as he moved closer again.

"What if I disregard that comment? That perhaps I know who it is I need for my future?"

Where there was nothing behind the eyes of his smiles before, there was now direct intent.

I swallowed hard.

Something moved just out of sight. My eyes cut over to the balcony. A second glance confirmed my first thoughts.

"Excuse me," I said, pushing past him.

I gripped the banister as I looked out to find Christine and Raoul hand in hand glancing up at the stage. Joy on their faces.

"He didn't do it…" I muttered.

The Vicomte stole a kiss from the young debutante who blushed and graciously took it.

Every worried thought that riddled me since the other night, melted away. The shame of thinking the worst still lingered, but there she was, proof of the man I'd been getting to know.

"Pardon?" Philippe asked, joining me. "Ah. Yes. I will have you know; I've given Raoul permission to court her proper now. It will never last though. Their worlds are of two very different experiences."

His words contradicted his actions towards me. Which further solidified my rejection of his odd advances.

"Yes. But that could be beautiful too. Love can be magic sometimes. I have to go now. Like right now!" I backed away. My feet carried me fast to the exit.

Philippe's hand found my arm again. "Please, Ms. Reilly," he said through a gritted smile. His chin quivered as he searched for the words. "May we share another evening? I would like that chance."

"There's somewhere I need to be. Have a good night, Philippe. I'm sure your date is waiting."

I yanked my arm back and hurried through the open door.

My room wasn't that far. It took only a few minutes for me to get in and out. Everyone loves cake, right?

"Erique!" I called as the door to dressing room seven closed behind me. I rushed to the vanity and placed the little box in my hands down.

"Erique!" I called again, wandering around the room. Jitters are terrible. No matter how many times I took a breath, trying to calm myself, it didn't help. They only seemed to get worse.

I hurried to the mirror, checking my face and "hair". I didn't even know why. Shit, I was still confused as to why I was there. I literally blew off Philippe who was apologizing to me, to come search for my Phantom so that I can apologize to him. Because he deserved it.

I stepped back, looking over my dress, making sure nothing was out of place. Like if I wasn't presentable, an apology wouldn't matter.

When no shift in the air nor words alerted me to his presence, I started to worry. Could he really be done with me? Or worse, was he ok?

I called out his name again, more laced in concern this time. He had to be somewhere. Erique was too high on himself to commit suicide.

When minutes passed and still no answer, I worried I had my answer.

I walked to the small box on the table and picked it up. Humming to ease my disappointment. I did this to myself.

In a last stitch of desperation, I called out again, fighting the ache that threatened.

The air shifted. "I should kill them all for taking my box," he said in an odd, yet gentle tone.

A slight smile lifted at the corner of my mouth. It was so comforting to hear his voice. The anxiety in my soul soothed and relief prevailed.

"You could have. But then I'd be the one left to clean up the mess," I answered.

The silence that followed was deafening. A drumline played in my ears masking as heart beats.

"I'm so sorry," I said, choking on the lump in my throat. "There's no excuse for what I did. How I treated you the other night. I just…" I scratched my scalp through the wefts in my wig. "I freaked out. Not about you. Just…erg…" My face dove into my hands as I groaned.

Two days to come up with an apology and I still didn't have one.

As if to put me out of my misery, he spoke. "Did you enjoy it?" he finally asked. "The opera?"

The flutter of life in my heart sent relief through me. "Yes. Though I could have thought of better ways to enjoy it."

I ran the tip of my tongue over the back of my teeth and clicked my tongue. "I wanted to say congratulations. Christine was superb, sublime and all the words that can describe such an amazing accomplishment. You should be so proud."

"She was everything I could have wanted on that stage."

"She was."

My mouth twitched around as I contemplated my next move. "Are we still friends?" I asked.

" Mon c?ur . Only God could take you from my heart," he said. "What's left of it anyway."

A soft, thankful chuckle left my chest and the tension in my shoulders seized. I wiped away a rogue tear. "You're ridiculous," I said

"Only for you."

I rolled my eyes and sighed, fiddling with the box in my hands.

"Crimson is your color, Angel."

"Thank you." I smiled like a fool, blushing so hard it burned my skin. "Anyway. I have something for you."

I set the box on the vanity again. Excited, I opened the top and dug out the small cake within. "You know how hard it was to find a small, skinny candle?" I asked. With the strike of a match, I lit the little candle after setting it at the center of the cake. "Congratulations... and happy birthday, my dear Erique."