A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

19. Bad Things That Could (and Do) Happen

Y/n's POV:

For whatever reason, my entire October passed in worry. Something in my intuition declared we were doomed. Primarily, my worries lied with Erik. The sûreté had been far too quiet recently. Erik wanted to believe they had dropped the case, but I still prepared for the worst. Any day now, they might bust the door open and drag Erik away from me, never to be seen again. How would I raise our child, not to mention develop our homestead, all alone? If that happened, I'd either succumb to privation in some obscure frontier or be forced to return to Paris, forever labeled as the idiot who married the Phantom of the Opera.

I also worried for myself. This pregnancy had gone well. A little too well. If I had already experienced some complication, I'd likely feel more secure, but now, in my final weeks, something catastrophic was bound to happen. How could it not? How did a woman have a smooth pregnancy and delivery, emerging from it with a healthy newborn? It all seemed too improbable, so I awaited the fatal reality. Any day now, I'd either drop dead or lose the baby. Those appeared the only viable options.

Whenever I brought these concerns to Erik, usually over mealtimes or when we were trying to fall asleep at night, they hardly pressed upon him as severely. My fear over the baby had been the last in my string of worries.

 Finally, on one chilly October night, Erik said, "if you're so worried about things going wrong, I'd recommend you stop stressing altogether. It can't be good for either of you."

 "Maybe, but Erik, I can't just not worry. It isn't that simple."

 "And why not? Nothing will happen. The cows are doing well, and we gain experience by the day. The sûreté are off our trail, and it's time we accept it, Y/n. We're finally safe. As for the baby, we've had no sign of an issue, so why borrow troubles that aren't ours?"

Really, his logical reasoning should have eased my fears, but in this emotional state, something else was far more powerful. His soothing voice, his dexterous hands tracing patterns in my loose hair, calmed my anxiety faster than any words could.

In minutes, I was asleep and didn't wake until morning.

Anxiety can be briefly quelled, but this longstanding fear became my waking torment. Eventually, though, the worries proved themselves to not be entirely unfounded.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

One evening, I awaited Erik's arrival eagerly. He had rode into Elam early that morning to gather supplies. He had a new scheme in his head, and the first step was buying the machinery to do it. Suffering without music, he'd finally resolved that he was capable of constructing his own piano. After witnessing the work he'd done on the house and surrounding grounds, I didn't doubt him for a second.

While he was in Elam, Erik also planned on visiting the post office, ironing out a few difficulties with his building permit.

On the horizon, a cart kicked up dust on the dirt path we called a road. Eventually, the clopping of Nadir's horse's hooves echoed towards the cabin. Unable to restrain myself, I ran towards the cart, nearer to my husband, who I had missed terribly all day.

 "Oh, Erik! Erik!" I called.

He halted Nadir's horse and climbed down, tightening me into a protective embrace.

 "Are you all right, Y/n? My God, I rode home as quickly as I could, but I feared it would hardly make a difference."

My grin slipped off my face, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Erik was one for broad, vague statements of total despair, but the sudden emergence of one still alarmed me at once.

 "Yes, I'm all right, of course. Are you? What's happened?"

I was ashamed of the quiver running through my voice. Erik wrapped his firm hands around my waist and lifted me into the cart, now laden with an assortment of supplies for his piano. He continued driving to the cabin.