This is the first story I wrote and I'd like to dedicate it to Katdancer. I was going to take it down when she left a review for me. She encouraged me to continue writing and was a great friend to me.

I own nothing, except Idonea.

Chapter One: Did she hate you?

A carriage in France

It was a murky and gloomy day in Paris. The sun wasn't shining, the sky was gray and the rain was silently falling. It was dreary and cold. All the shades were drawn in the carriage, except for one. If one were to peer inside the carriage one would see two men inside the carriage. An older man, his face was weary from enduing everything that the world had inflicted on him. The younger man, his son, wore a similar expression, however his youthful shoulders were ready to bear the burdens of the world.

"Tell me," the young man asked in a quiet and contemplative voice. "did you ever care for Idonea as much as Christine?"

The older man's head jerked up and he frowned darkly at the boy. "How dare you ask me that question." He stated firmly. "You know I loved Idonea very much. She was my one true love. The only woman for me and I was blessed to have known her."

"I loved my mother too," he assured his father. " but Idonea was much stronger than her." He hesitated for a moment before explaining himself. "I've always wondered about one thing though."

"Then spit it out boy." He said gruffly. "If I were fifteen years younger, I'd threaten you into silence."

The boy chuckled, not even put off by his father's gruff tone of voice. The smile faded on his lips as he turned sober. "Did Idonea ever….hate or envy you? I mean, for your relationship with Christine?"

Those words cause his father to hesitate for a long moment. He dwelled on the words before responding to his son's question. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "She said she was resigned to it. But only God knows the mind of a woman."

"She was a special woman." The boy mused. "Those eyes…. so-"

"Intriguing." He finished. "Mysterious." He leaned back into his seat and gazed out the window. He allowed himself to get lost in the gloom of Paris. If he concentrated hard enough, he could just see Idonea's beautiful violet eyes in his mind. He could smell her scent, taste the raspberry scent on her skin under his mouth again for one moment.

"Are you still missing her that much father?" He laid a gentle hand on his father's knee. "I know, it's only been a year, but, you two shared so much."

He refused to face his son, for fear that those young eyes would see the tears brimming in his older eyes. He could barely manage a nod. A year? To his breaking hear, it had only been a week. Nevertheless, the pain in his chest was sharper than a knife. "I miss her...like one would miss breathing." He choked out. "Christine...ceased to exist...when I found my life in Idonea."

"I'll be silent now." He said as he settled back into his sea. "Leave you to your thoughts." He settled back in his seat.

His thoughts for the third time within the hour had strayed back to those days so long ago. Those days that seemed to be lived on a Russian stage. Each day a terrible drama filled with pain and heartbreak would emerge only to be triumphed by another moment of love that would wash over the other days of torture. It was the beautiful days of those French love stories that stayed within his heart. All too soon, he could see the dark, sandy beaches of Cony Island rising up before him again.

Many years ago,

Christine stifled a cry and he leaned her back against him. Her blood oozed over his badly shaking fingers. Erik applied pressure to the wound, but he knew in his heart that this was useless. Madame Giry hadn't returned with help and I couldn't stop the bleeding. She was going to die, right now in his arms. He wanted to cry in despair. He had lost her to another for so many years and now that he had her, she was being taken away from him! But no, he couldn't give into his base impulses. He had to be strong for her sake! He couldn't start thinking like that!

"Come closer…. I beg you." Christine said as she gripped his arm weakly. He leaned closer so her face was only inches from his unmasked one. "Closer still." She breathed faintly.

He hesitated, but due to the lack of time they were now to have together, he obeyed her. They were now close enough that their noses almost touched. Christine touched her mask and reminded him of words that would haunt him until he died. "Remember, love..…. never…dies." He nodded, barely able to hang onto those words. "Kiss me," she pleaded with tears in her eyes. "one last time."

He hesitated. It had been so long since he'd kissed her. 12 years to be exact. But he knew that this would be their very last time to kiss. He felt honored that she wished for his lips would be the last she'd taste on this earth.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. Christine gripped his arm tightly, urging him to deepened the kiss which he did. Sparks flew and the very stars in the skies fell as he felt their passion flame to life again for one precious moment. He heard her moan and as he gathered her tighter in his arms, her grip grew weaker and her arms fell from about his neck.

He felt the life leave her before he even broke to kiss to feel for her pulse or looked at her face. They had always been one; in body and soul. They were all that they ever had. So when her soul left the earth, he'd felt it leave. She'd left him, again, alone again in a world that was cold and cruel. But this time, he wasn't as alone as he'd been. This time...he had a son...their son and he would go through hell to keep that boy with him.