Chapter 66

Gustave's POV

To the Guest who commented on Erik's scar, can you please let me know what chapter that was? I did forget about it, but I would be glad to include the story if I can remember what I had in mind myself. :'D

I could feel Erin's eyes watching me like she was watching a tennis match as I paced like a mad-man.

"I can't do this," I breathed as I put my hands on my hips. "How could he even find me? We moved hundreds of miles away just a couple of months ago. Has he been tracking me all of this time? What if he's crazy? What if it's not even him? What if it's a scam?"

"Well, France is an awfully long way away for scam mail, but I suppose people will do anything nowadays," she replied, a humorous tone to her voice.

"I wish you weren't quite so calm about this," I replied.

"Gustave," she said, tossing the cushion aside that had been wrapped in her arms, "everything is going to be alright. Tonight may not go well. There's no way to predict if it will or not, but no matter what, you will always have me. You always have Chrissy and your father. That's all that matters. So maybe things will go ok. Maybe they won't, but if they don't, life is just a series of events. Nothing stays bad forever. It will always turn out."

She fixed my crooked tie with a smile. I put my hands over hers and kissed her briskly. "Do you really believe that?"

She kissed me back. "I really do."

"Well, I don't, but it still makes me feel better for some reason. You'll have to let me in on how you do that sometime."

She hit my chest with a laugh and went back to sit on the settee. "You would turn that into something negative."

"Where did you send Chrissy and Alex for the night?"

"Well, I know you said that you didn't want anyone around. Your father offered to go up to Richmond for the weekend. He said he wanted to be as far away as he could. He offered to take the kids. I told them they could go, but apparently Ruby told them they could stay in the servant's house with her. They opted for that instead. They sure do love her."

I smiled. "I don't blame them. I would have loved her when I was a kid, too."

"I wish I could have known you as a kid."

I laughed and sat next to her as I buttoned my vest. "You wouldn't have liked me. I was weird."

"You're still weird," she said as she put her gloved hands on my face, "but I love you anyways."

Before I could object, she kissed me deeply, and for the first time since receiving Raoul's letter, I wasn't thinking about the bloody dinner with him. I found myself kissing her harder as she tugged slightly at my hair. Just as I was laying her back onto the settee, the doorbell rang. I groaned with frustration and sat up, smoothing my hair back into its place.

"I'll get the door," I grumbled as I pulled on my tuxedo coat.

Erin giggled. "You sounded just like your father just then. Wait. Before you go..." She jumped to her feet and grabbed the handkerchief out of my pocket. She wiped, what I presumed to be, smudged red lipstick off of my face. "There. Now, you're handsome as ever. I'll give you a minute, and then I'll come down. All will be well. You'll see."

I kissed her forehead before turning on my heel and dashing down the stairs.

There, I came face-to-face with him. It was Raoul de Chagny in all of his glory - well, what was left of it anyway. He looked much older, but I suppose that we all did.

He took off his hat where I could see is tired, baggy eyes and graying hair and beard. His head was tilting down, but his eyes looked up at me. I was much taller than him in my mature age. He looked much meeker than I could ever remember seeing him before.

"Gustave," he said softly. I could tell all of the cigarettes had finally taken their toll, "you look so like your mother."

I cleared my throat and waved him in. Erin stood at the base of the stairs looking lovely in her red and black evening gown. She smiled and held her hand out which the Viscount took and bowed.

"My wife," I said much more sternly than I meant to, "Erin."

I might have been crazy, but I thought I saw Raoul tear up a bit as he looked at her. "Glad to see you've found such a beautiful young woman," he said.

Dinner went on without much else to say. Erin would occasionally ask about France or how I was as a child. Raoul answered politely as anyone would suspect a Viscomte would. It began to get later, and Erin excused herself for the night sensing that I needed to be left alone to get out of this man whatever he wanted with me.

When she was gone, I downed the rest of my drink and set the glass to the side without a smile. "Raoul de Chagny, why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

He sighed. "You know you are my son."

"Was," I corrected. "I was your son."

"No," he said softly, "you are. You are the closest thing I have or will ever have to a son."

"Are you sure? Are you sure you don't have another child with all the women you slept with while you were with my mother?"

"That's alright. You can be harsh. I've heard much worse, and I deserve it."

"Yes, you do, and I feel no remorse being harsh."

He grunted. "But you should no, while I was no pleasant husband to your mother, I never cheated on her. I did many things, but I never did that." I sat in silence and stared at the last few drops in my brandy glass. "I am proud of you," he continued. "You have made a life for yourself. That's more than I thought that I could ever say for a son of mine."

"I'm not your son!" I snapped.

"Would you just listen, you ignorant child?" He slammed his glass on the table. He breathed heavily for a moment, attempting to control himself. "As far as I am concerned, as far as my money is concerned, you are my son." I bit my tongue, trying not to argue. "I watched you grow for ten years. I was there when you were born. I remember your first steps." His voice cracked and became shaky. "I remember your first words. You called me 'Daddy' you know."

"Would you get to your point?"

He sighed. "My point is that, after your mother died, I turned my life around. Now, I still don't have a lot of money, especially compared to you and your father, but I do have a significant amount. I have no family left. You're all I have, Gustave, and I want you to have it, to invest it in your business."

"I don't want your money."

"Gustave, I am an old, dying man. I -"

"I don't care! Don't you understand? I want nothing from you! You were abusive. You were a gambler. You were a selfish, selfish man, and if it hadn't been for my father, my real father, I might have ended up just like you, valuing nothing but beauty and pleasure."

"I know that, but I changed, and I want -"

"Like you said, it probably isn't enough money to make a difference anyway."

"Gustave -"

"You know what you could do with it? You could invest it in some charity benefiting women that have been in abusive relationships. I'm sure a donation from you would mean a lot to them."

I could tell I finally struck a nerve. Raoul jumped up and threw his chair behind him. "You want to know something, boy? You did turn out like me. All men are like me, even your father. Why do you think he wears a mask like a freak? Why do you think he built an amusement park? He wants to be beautiful, to be a source of pleasure. You're the same. You should be ashamed. We should all be ashamed. I wanted to make amends with you." He shook his head. "But who's the selfish one now?"

I bit my lip as I watched him leave. The front door slammed shut despite the fact that a servant chased after him to close it. I shut my eyes as I heard Erin come running to see what the commotion was about. She stood for a moment before kneeling at my side, taking my hand.

"Gustave, what's wrong? What happened?"

I sighed and stood up. "Go to bed, Erin. I'm not in my right mind right now."