Between Mirrors and Roses (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction) ✓

31: Erik the Husband

Christine

Erik created a hideaway for himself in his office downstairs: a place he could retreat to when he needed to be alone. Sometimes he would disappear for hours, sometimes for days.

I didn't mind. I liked the time to myself and liked knowing that I wasn't entirely dependent on his company for entertainment. I grew worried, however, because these instances of seclusion occurred randomly and without warning. During them, he must've slept in his room, if he slept at all, because I would wake to see undisturbed covers where he should've been.

One of these times, I wandered the empty house tailing Jeanette for nearly two days before making up my mind to disturb Erik in his new lair. I knocked timidly on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. I had to do it before my courage left me.

Erik spun around at my entrance, scrabbling for his mask.

I closed the door and took a few steps toward him. "Oh, leave it off," I said.

He stood for a few moments in indecision then let it fall from his grasp. "What do you need?" he asked.

I fingered a fold in my dress, glancing around the room. The desk that Erik stood near dominated the room. Open books covered another table. "You've been in here so long. What are you working on?"

He sighed and rubbed his face, temporarily obscuring it from view. "It is a house for a wealthy man in town. It needs to be finished by tomorrow; that is why I've been neglecting you. My apologies."

I wandered closer and looked at the plans spread out on the desk. Erik's sketches were precise and beautiful. The house depicted was much grander than ours but had similar sweeping arches and proud windows. "I wasn't neglected, not really," I said. I shifted a drawing to view the one beneath it. Somehow, the measurements and notes on the blueprints didn't detract from but added to their artistry. "So you are not building the house, just designing it?"

"That's correct. I don't care to be seen by people, so I am paid for the designs and the instructions I leave." He fidgeted with the papers, sliding them into a neater stack.

Neither of us was sure what to do. I didn't want to leave yet but wasn't sure how to say what I had come to say.

Erik moved around the table until he was beside me, and he wrapped a piece of my hair around his finger. "Oh Christine," he sighed.

I had to scold my foolish heart for beating so fast. Pathetic, that even a tiny touch could elicit such a reaction.

"I know I must be a better husband—"

I cut him off. "You are a wonderful husband," I affirmed. "I just wish you would warn me before you disappear like this. I completely understand needing to be alone or having work to do, and sometimes things don't happen according to intentions, but if you know you'll be absent for any length of time, let me know so I can make other plans."

Erik was a bit startled at this outburst (so was I), but he had the grace to admit my point's validity. "You are right, of course. I will try to better inform you of my intentions."

I glanced at the papers with a touch of distress. "And I know that I can't help you with this stuff because I don't understand most of it, but if there is anything I can do to ease your workload, please tell me." I looked back at him, and his expression seemed wary. "I mean, if there are things to fetch or look up or copy, busywork that doesn't require studied skills, I can help. You don't have to give me a complete architectural education for me to be of use." I shrugged and smiled nervously. "Even if all I do is make tea or food. I doubt that you've been eating as you should."