"You know, my father once told me a tale about a young girl, apparently much like me, that had gone on this great adventure, she too, had been shot..." Erik only listened partially as she began to tell some small tales about her childhood. She wanted to talk about everything as long as it took her away from the pain the whole in her flesh was causing her. Erik just loved listening to the sound of her voice. He realized that these small, intimate moments were the ones he treasure the most with his wife. When they made love it was amazing, he admitted that much, but there was something more to their relationship that he was barely beginning to comprehend. When he had made love to her in the study it was a moment he would always cherish. He had known then what it felt like to be truly one with another person.
No woman-and he said this with the most sincerity-had ever affected him like she seemed to. There were so many different layers of this woman and he loved finding and discovering each and every one. She was not afraid to speak what was on her mind and he admired that greatly in her. She had been the first who had ever to dared stand up to him and he admitted that he missed their arguments where she became the spit-fire he knew her to be at times. But when she became angry she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
But when you took away that anger there was a kind woman who had a heart far too big for such a small frame. She could make love to him with a tenderness he had never been shown by a lover and she could make him feel like a man for giving her her deepest desires. He was falling in love with her no matter how hard he fought against it. Who was he to be deserving of her love. He did not ever believe that she could love him truly if only for the reason that she had yet to remove his one shield; the mask. Until everything had been thrown into the open he knew she could never love him with all that she was.
"Christine," Erik said, interrupting her story. She smiled up at him and shook her head, exasperated. He hesitated a moment before speaking again.
"There is something I want you to see."
He left the bed to walk across the room. Christine's eyes could not help but look over his nude form. He had a ruggedness that she admired greatly and for a woman his body elicited very sinful thoughts. He grabbed something and when he turned to face her noticed her look. He smirked and she sighed, knowing that there would be no lovemaking for a while. He joined her in bed once more and gently laid a worn book on her lap. Christine glanced at him before slowly opening it with her only good hand.
"Oh, God, Erik..." she whispered. Her mother's book. It was obviously a diary and Christine ran her fingertips along the worn pages. She felt several tears catch in her lashes and she looked to her husband, wanting to know where it had come from.
"I stole it from Monsieur Delauney."
"I have not read it. She was your mother and it is not my business," he said. Christine could hear the hurt in his voice and his desperation. She knew that he craved a small piece of Emma, no matter what that was. She handed him the diary.
"Why don't you read it to me?"
Erik's smile was well worth her offer and as he opened the book Christine noticed the parchment that was lying on her lap. She picked it up, realizing it must have fallen from the diary. With slightly shaking fingers she opened it.
"Erik?"
He turned to his wife to see her holding a piece of paper he had not noticed. Her hands were trembling and she slowly handed it to him. Erik frowned.
"It is a letter. To you."
Erik could not contain his surprise. He looked down at the signature and had to swallow a lump in his throat when he saw Emma's name. It had been written a few years prior and Erik slowly began to read it out loud, much to Christine's gratitude
My dearest Erik,
When you find this letter I know that I am going to be in another world with God's angels softly singing me to sleep. You remember the stories I used to tell you, Erik? Of the angels in Heaven? Well I am with them now and I want you to know that I will always be watching over you. After everything that we went through I want you to know that I love you more than you could ever know. You know how hard it was for me to go on sometimes and you were always there for me, my shoulder to cry on. I will always be thankful to you for that. I also know that you probably think I hate you for turning from me, which is not true. It hurt me deeply that you turned your back on me, Erik, I cannot lie, but I understand why you did so. My love for you, little brother, did not diminish because of that day and I need you to know that. I could never hate you, Erik, and I hope you do not hate me.
You always were so smart for a boy your age...you knew how much I loved Nadir and you knew I should have stood up for that love...I could not do so, Erik, and you know the reasons. Perhaps I was weak and because of that I broke a man's heart. I know that Nadir does not know of Anthony...but Erik, please, please, when you get this, tell him. I should have done so from the day he was born but I could not, because I knew that my father would kill him if I did so. Tell Nadir that he always had my heart. When I married Gustave I came to love him with all of my being and I know that I did not deserve that love after I had shunned Nadir's. Hopefully everyone can forgive me for the things I had done and the things I had failed to do in my life.
I wish you could have seen Christine, my daughter, grow up. She is wonderful, Erik, truly, and far too much like me for her own good. I think you would have liked her, and she you, and she would understand the reasons for the mask and what lay beneath it. I hope this letter reaches you in a good time of your life. I hope you are happy and loved and raising a family, and if not then you must only look up at the stars, and the brightest one will be me, and you will know that you are never truly alone.
I love you, Erik
Your sister,
Emma