Him.

Chapter V

It was three years later when Erik saw Haya again, and a lot can (and did) happen in three years.

Erik had two small children, one three, one approaching his second birthday. The first child, a beautiful girl, was named Marjory, the boy proceeding her was named Henri. Both children were stunningly beautiful and looked and acted like any children may. They loved their father and mother, and they often-times went on visits to their uncle's house. It was said Henri looked like his uncle, for he certainly looked nothing like his mother and father. They didn't know if the children looked like their father very much because of the deformity, but Marjory had very dark hair that obviously came from Erik.

Haya, on the complete other hand, has secured a divorce with her husband. The bastard had said her career took over their love-life and made it practically non-existent. There was nothing left, so she no longer was married to him. He even had the gull to take some of her money! That didn't go far when the courts eventually favored on her side. It was by miracle that it had happened, Erik thought when he learned of it.

But he didn't learn of it until a letter that came before her arrival got sent into the mail. He immediately lettered back and told her to stay with him for a while to get her career going again and to hopefully help her feel better.

Erik found her on his doorstep to what he assumed to be as soon as she could possibly arrive. He welcomed her in with a hug, and an introduction to his two beautiful children.

"They're darling, Erik," she said happily, watching as the two ran about the small room.

"Thank you, I am very proud of the both of them. Marjory is an angel, and her brother is a strange one, but I guess he gets it from me. Both sharp as a tac."

Haya nodded and looked at Erik.

"Is your wife alright with this?"

Erik scoffed, "She hasn't a clue yet."

"Wonderful!" Haya exclaimed, "So where is she?"

"Erik?" An airy voice called.

"Speak of the devil," Haya muttered.

Philippa waltzed into the room and gasped vehemently at the sight Haya. She'd hardly laid eyes on her for two seconds, Erik thought with disgust.

"What is she doing here, Erik?" The blonde asked with no guilt, only hate in her voice.

"She is going to be staying with us," Erik said and reveled in the look his wife sustained, "Because this is my very good friend, Haya Beauregard."

Philippa narrowed her eyes.

"How dare you? You haven't even consulted me!" She gritted at Erik, her face red and awful.

"I am the man of this household, you will do well to remember that, woman," Erik scorned his wife, infuriated at the fact she was treating Haya like an animal. "I won't hear a word or protest or you'll be staying with your brother by yourself."

Erik looked at his poor children who had just witnessed the whole thing and softly exhaled, walking up to them and picking them both up in his arms.

"Everything is okay, alright Marjory? Henri? Maman and papa love you, okay?"

The two children nodded with a slight giggle.

"And you're going to love Aunt Haya, too."

Haya was touched at the sentiment and at the fact that Philippa looked anything but pleased. Erik could see it. The woman looked like she was going to blow her head off the way she was breathing, Erik noticed. He felt bad that he had to do this to his wife, but he was sure they would get over it.

"I say that I'll make dinner, and Haya, I hate to ask, but I must speak urgently to my wife... Could you watch over the little ones? Consider it bonding time?" Erik asked her with a happy smile.

Haya nodded immediately and took Henri in her arms, smiling at her father's legacy. Erik could tell she was confused as to how he'd slipped that one past Philippa.

"Look at you," she cooed, and that was the last Erik heard before pulling Philippa into another room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked him.

"I am being the man of the house and allowing a friend that I have known longer than I have been married to you stay in my home. I would never, in any other case pretend that I, as a man, was better than you. But when you are blatantly and offensively wrong! I must set down my foot! Philippa, she is no different than you or I. I've seen enough bodies to know," Erik whispered heatedly, his face so close to hers that he almost felt disgusted.

"Erik, she is colored!"

"So what! Did you hear none of what I said! Do you even know who her father is? A plentiful New Yorker! She is rich! Do you know who her mother was? A Princess of Cathan! I don't want to be angry with you," Erik suddenly said quietly, caressing her tear-stained cheek.

"I don't want to be mad at you, either."

Erik closed his eyes as they pressed their foreheads together and smiled uniformly.

"You're too beautiful to be mad, love. Just remember that she is your equal, alright? Just until she doesn't feel the heartbreak of her divorce any longer."

"She was divorced?" Philippa asked hollowly, pity coming through to her senses.

"Yes, the man was awful to her, he hardly let her career go as far as it should. I've played for you her compositions many times... The anonymous composer with a faux name ring a bell?"

Philippa suddenly seemed excited. As excited as she was capable past her bigotry.

"That was her music!"

Erik nodded and watch his wife smile.

"I will attempt to put away our differences for a while. I will try," Philippa said determinedly.

"Good, now we are to have a civilized dinner with her. And many more to come."

The woman nodded, taking her eyes and making sure they weren't red, she returned to Haya's presence.

Erik followed his wife and sighed heavily. He knew that that was only a temporary truce in that battle. Things like that were practically burned into people's bones.