Again, thank you all so much for reading! Keep an eye out for part two of the epilogue, coming soon. ;)

Epilogue- Part One

10 years later

Applause, thunderous and encompassing, surrounded her for a few glorious minutes. Christine had nearly forgotten the rush that came with performing, and to experience it again was…exhilarating. Amazing. Flowers were thrown at her feet, and a beaming smile was fixed on her face, happy tears swimming in her eyes. She looked up and to her left, and there he was: Her husband, standing up in a private opera box with their two children at either of his sides, all three of of them applauding for her.

Only a year after their first-born, Gustave, had entered the world, Madame Giry had informed them that there was to be a design contest for the rebuilding of the Opera Populaire. The winner would receive total creative control over the building, but would have to work with the budget provided by the man in charge, a Monsieur Lafarge: a flamboyant, rich Frenchman who loved opera and heavily supported the arts.

Erik had not considered entering even a little bit, but of course Christine encouraged him to.

"This is your chance, Erik," she had said to him, a little Gustave in her lap, tugging on her curls. "This is your chance to start over. Build a new life and name for yourself."

"Why, pray tell, would I want either of those things? I am happy the way things are," he had replied stubbornly, but with so much love in his eyes as he gazed at the two of them.

"I only have a feeling that this could be great for us. That is all." She had shrugged. "Don't you think so too, little Gustave?" At his mother addressing him, the baby had giggled and cooed, and she had laughed back lovingly.

Eventually, Erik had agreed to at least entering. Most of Paris thought him long dead anyway, and no one save for Madame Giry and Christine knew his actual name.

But of course, Erik won. Before the first meeting with Monsieur Lafarge, Erik had constructed a flesh-toned mask that matched his skin color near to perfection. It was so astoundingly natural that it allowed him to look normal when face to face with anyone involved. Of course, they had come up with an excuse if anyone should look too closely and notice something amiss. He would simply tell them that it was covering an injury.

Everything went without issue. Erik's new mask was so realistic that there was rarely an inquisition about it, and once the opera house was finished, Erik and Christine were welcome patrons and even had their own box.

Of course, people recognized Christine, and they were very inquisitive about that fateful night of Don Juan Triumphant that she had gone missing. Christine had previously come up with a story that she thought, hopefully, everyone would believe: When she disappeared after the Phantom's opera, she had fled home to Sweden on her own when the Phantom set her free. She had just been too distressed over the events to stay with Raoul, and needed to be alone for a while. Sweden is where she had met her husband, Monsieur Destler, and they had come back to Paris when she became pregnant because she had missed it so and wanted to raise their child here.

She had to feign innocent surprise when people would tell her the news of the Vicomte's death, and that he had been frantically searching for her for months after her disappearance. It was not difficult for her to produce tears when needed, for the events still haunted Christine every so often anyway. The guilt and pain of the entire ordeal was just something she lived with.

Other than that unpleasant part of her life, Christine could not have been happier. Their second child—a bronze haired, brown-eyed, serious little girl—came when Gustave turned five. Christine offered that Erik name her, since she had named Gustave, and after just a few seconds of staring at the newborn baby's face, Erik had whispered in awe, "Melody."

And so she was called Melody.

Christine had never considered returning to the stage, even when Erik became the manager of the Populaire. Her children kept her busy enough, and though her voice had only continued to soar after years of guidance from Erik, she knew she would only find enjoyment singing for him and for her children, not for the world.

It was quickly obvious to Erik that, though Monsieur Lafarge had enjoyed watching opera, he did not know much about the actual craft. Erik had offered to give him pointers, proposing to guide him along the way, an the moment Lafarge realized that Erik knew a great deal about the craft of opera, he had offered him the job of manager on the spot. Erik had vehemently told him no, but Lafarge told him to think about it and come back with, hopefully, a different answer.

With more encouragement from Christine, Erik eventually accepted. At first he was very against it. He had spent most of his life in solitude, and should he accept he would have to spend a lot his time talking to and directing people. Of course, many of those interactions would be demands, but still, he was extremely hesitant. Christine thought he should go for it. It was finally his chance to live a normal life, like he had wanted all along. He would finally get to share his talent with the world. She ended up convincing him, and with how well everything else had been going, he had finally decided he would do it.

Erik thrived as manager. His fatherhood had taught him patience, and, dare she say, kindness. Still, he was firm and direct, just as he was when he was just her voice teacher, and the new opera house was extremely successful under his direction.

When Christine was not keeping the children, she helped around the opera house as well. Sometimes she would shadow Madame Giry, who had reclaimed her title as ballet mistress, and others she would serve as support for the young women of the opera. Having been in their shoes, Christine was there for the young girls with encouraging words, comforting smiles, and helpful advice.

The leading soprano, a cheerful powerhouse named Madame Bernard, had fallen ill a mere three days before the premier of Faust. When Erik could not find another to fulfill the role, he had begged Christine to step in. He had always thought she would be a perfect Marguerite; even now that she was ten years older. He still saw her as youthful and exquisite as the day she had made her debut in Hannibal, as he would often remind her. She had been reluctant at first; having been away from the stage for such a long time, but she would at least have a few days to practice and she knew it would please Erik and help him immensely. And that is why she had performed tonight, and would perform until Madame Bernard was well enough to take back her place.

After the curtain call, Christine hastily changed out of her costume, and was met by her children's embraces as soon as she came out of the dressing room door.

"You were wonderful, Mother," Gustave exclaimed as he squeezed her waist and stood on his toes to kiss her cheek. Goodness, he was getting so tall! Christine beamed at the praise and kissed his curls in return.

Melody tugged on her skirt, trying to gain her attention. "Really Mama, you were enchanting," she told her seriously in her sweet, melodic voice, looking up at her. "However, you must tell Papa to find a new percussionist immediately. That man was off beat with every cue he had." She shook her head in annoyance.

Christine laughed, amazed at her young daughter's ear for that sort of thing, at such a young age! She was so much like Erik, and it warmed Christine's heart.

"Come," she said to the both of them, taking their hands. "It is way past your bed time and Papa will be waiting in the carriage. And do not forget to thank him for allowing you to come for one night. It took me days to convince him."

"Yes Mother," they murmured in unison.

As they made their way outside, the children chattered happily about the opera and their favorite parts. Christine took them through a side entrance, knowing the main halls and lobby would be flooded with people just waiting to talk her ear off. Not tonight, she thought. Tonight she just wanted to take her darling kids home and collapse into bed with Erik at her side.

The moon was shining full and bright as they walked to their carriage, and Christine could see Erik talking with their driver as they approached. After all the time they had been married, the thrill from seeing her husband had never eased. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into a warm embrace and have him kiss her right then.

Instead, he helped her and the children into the cab before getting in himself. As the children bickered back and forth playfully, Erik took Christine's hand and kissed her knuckles. Her stomach fluttered.

"You were absolutely wonderful," he murmured, voice slightly awed and full of warmth.

"Thank you, my love," Christine replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. "It was all for you."

"Thank you for letting us come tonight, Papa!" Melody said, and Gustave followed with a, "Yes, thank you!"

Erik nodded once. "And what did you two think of your Mother's performance?"

The two of them talked over one another saying how great she was and how amazing the entire opera was and Erik chuckled, nodding. Christine blushed at all of the praise.

Life was very happy for all of them. Christine and Erik had taken to parenthood quite well, surprisingly. Of course it was difficult, but the good always surpassed the bad. Gustave was a gentle little fellow, but with a liking for sports and physical activities. He was very charming, well mannered, always having a smile on his face and always willing to be a helpful older brother. Though he had a nice singing voice and enjoyed when others sang, he did not care much for doing it himself.

Melody, however, adored singing, and her sweet little voice made Christine's eyes fill with awed tears nearly every time she opened her mouth to release a note. She definitely had a natural talent, and Erik had already begun giving her voice lessons. Christine might have protested against it if it were not for Melody's profound desire to learn. The child had badgered Erik for months before he finally agreed to teach her, after Christine approved. The unique little girl was surprisingly focused during lessons, despite her young age. She also took criticism well and seriously, never getting offended or crying.

Christine was sure her heart had grown to three times its original size since she had had children. The love was sometimes overwhelming and scary, but oh so worth it.

By the time they made it home, the children had nodded off. Gustave was such a heavy sleeper that they knew they would never get him inside without carrying him, so Erik quickly paid the driver and lifted the boy from the cab gently. Christine carried Melody inside with ease, as she was a tiny little thing, and once both children were tucked in bed, Erik and Christine held hands as they made their way to their bedroom.

"Are you very tired?" Erik asked, after they were both dressed in their nightclothes.

"I gave you my soul tonight," she sighed, falling down onto the bed. "I am dead."

"Nonsense," Erik lied down next to her and placed his hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. "My wife is very much alive."

He leaned over to kiss her, and she cupped his unmasked face and returned it with fervor.

Erik rarely ever wore his usual disguise when they were in the safety of their home anymore. Christine had remembered the shouting fight they had had right before Gustave was born.

"Erik, I do not think you should wear your mask at all when the baby arrives," she had broached hesitantly one night, rubbing her swollen belly.

His eyes had widened, and then he had replied angrily. "Excuse me? Are…are you mad, Christine? Do you think I want my own child to be frightened of me?"

It had taken hours of convincing that their baby would not be afraid if it was familiar with his face from the day it was born before he finally understood. After shouting and tears and anger, he had eventually admitted with reluctance that she was right, and he never wore his mask or wig inside the house anymore, save for when Madame Giry would visit.

The children knew that their father had been born special, and they never looked on his face with fear. That was the face of their Papa, the one they had known their whole lives. They were a little confused when Christine explained to them why he wore a disguise whenever they would leave the house, but Gustave was old enough now to understand now. Melody still questioned why she had to keep his face a secret, but she would learn as time went on, Christine was sure.

"Christine?" Erik broke their kiss and sat up, tearing her from her memory.

"Hmm?"

His ocean eyes blazed into her with an intensity that never ceased to make her tremble. "I…do not know how I could ever thank you…for what you have given me." His struggle for words was so unlike him, and she sat up as well, taking his rough, warm hands into hers with concern.

"What do you mean, Erik?"

Erik's voice was low, thick with emotion. "Everything, Christine. For tonight, singing for me as you did. It was…" He paused, seeming to be at a loss for words. "And…thank you for giving me those two ghastly, wonderful children." She laughed breathlessly, trying to hold back the happy tears that threatened. "For marrying me and wanting me. If I somehow live a thousand years, I would still never be able to comprehend it all. You are…good, so loving and beautiful, my Christine. Everything I am not."

Christine stopped him with a gentle finger on his lips. "Oh, Erik," she breathed. "But you are all of those things. I know you are." She paused, swallowing, looking on him with never ending desire. "And what about what you have given me? Passion, love, music…" Not allowing her to finish, he kissed her with so much desperation that it was almost bewildering, and her fingers tangled into his hair as she kissed him back with equal need.

Erik had not believed her words. She had seen it in his eyes the moment before he kissed her and felt it in him as he did. After all this time, he still needed reassurance from her. His wounds were rooted very, very deep, and it broke her heart.

But it was all right. Christine would supply as much love and assurance as he needed, whenever he needed it, until he finally believed her. Someday, he would. She would spend the rest of their lives convincing him.