Page 67 of Our Strange Duet

Meg and I would wander through them, peering up to admire the giants and guess at what myth or heroic military moment they’d been made to commemorate.

My favorite was the statue of the winged Pegasus. The enormous horse reared upright, its front hooves kicking mightily over the city. Grabbing its bridle and barely restraining the magnificent creature was an impossibly beautiful figure: Renown.

The pair towered over us now, looking both unfamiliar and threatening in the dim light.

Raoul performed a quick sweep of the area and returned to me. He looked so concerned, so utterly guileless. I fell back into his arms as he murmured whispered assurances into my hair. “Christine, there’s no one here. It’s just us. We’re safe. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

I nodded, marveling at the way I fit into his embrace, as if we were two statues ourselves, carved from the same piece of marble and meant to forever entwine. His chin rested on the top of my head, and his arms folded round me, a bulwark against raging storms, a harbor made to shelter and protect. I clutched at his lapels, wanting to draw him even closer still.

“Christine.”

I tilted up my face, and the sight of him, looking down with such care, nearly undid me. Every fear, every panicked wondering, vanished, evaporating like dewdrops against the heat of a rising sun.

I’d never before seen such a look, such a tender expression of utter adoration. I wanted to lose myself in it, wanted to bottle it so that I’d never forget what it felt like to be so cherished and…

My breath caught, my mind shy to even think the word.

Loved.

It was there in each of his gestures. It was there with every word he spoke, consoling me, comforting me. And it was here, in my heart, as bright and beaming as sunlight, as pure as summertime.

Love.

I loved Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny. I loved the boy he’d been. I loved the man he’d become. I’d love every iteration of him. The past, the present, the future. The now and always. I loved him all.

“Let’s just go,” he asked, stirring me from my revelation. “I know the managers said you’d sing, but if you’re really this scared, if you really don’t want to, Christine, I have my carriage. We only need to order the horses, and we can go…anywhere. Wherever you want. Wherever you’ll feel safe.”

I took his hands, letting our fingers twine into an unbreakable knot. “I feel safe anywhere you are. Anywhere you go.”

His smile was colored with relief, a beacon of light among the shadows of the opera roof.

I don’t know who instigated the kiss. Him, or me, or perhaps us both, working in tandem with a simple ease I hoped would last forever. It didn’t matter who began it, because our lips found each other and joined in the sweetest, most dizzying miracle.

I felt transported back to the beach where we’d shared our first kiss. I’d been so giddy then. So nervous and excited, and wholly stunned that this beautiful boy, this handsome wonder of a human, wanted me as much as I did him. It was a singular ecstasy, like bubbles in champagne, or bursting fireworks, or confetti sparkling midair.

“Oh, Christine, my forever favorite,” he said, exhaling in a rush of breath and delight. “I love you.”

His words stole my breath away. If it was possible to die from happiness, I was in grave and mortal peril. There was so much joy within me I thought my heart might burst, oversaturated and as sparkling as a kaleidoscope. “I love you too.”

Raoul let out a happy whoop and lifted me off the ground. We twirled in a giggling circle, my satin skirts fluttering around us like a candy-pink cloud. The moment felt perfect. The world felt perfect. The most extraordinary man within it loved me. Nothing else mattered. We had each other.

My fears were gone. My worries had ceased.

What did I have to be afraid of with Raoul at my side?

Nothing. No one. Not even Erik.

“I…I have to get back,” I said, trying to guess at how long we’d been away. “They’ll wonder where I am.”

He looked surprised. “You’re going to sing?”

“I am,” I decided. Erik might have arranged the situation that put me here, but it was I who had the power to pull it off. My voice and I. And I wasn’t going to let him steal another bit of happiness from me. “I’m going to sing, and then…and then…” I laughed, overwhelmed by every possibility which lay before us. We could do anything. We could go anywhere. Together. “Order your fine horses. Have the carriage waiting. We’ll leave the minute I’m done! I want to spend the rest of the night—the rest of forever—kissing you.”

Raoul cupped my cheeks and brought his lips to mine again. “I’ll do it all. All you ask. I’ll wait for you,” he promised.

I pressed a final kiss to his lips, then, taking his hand, led him back to the opera.

I was in such a happy fever dream I didn’t notice the rest of the company’s mood. I couldn’t quite take in their tearstained, pinched faces. I couldn’t taste the fear in the air.