A/N: Thank you to the five million people who corrected my French grammar… ;-). It is greatly appreciated it. I changed it in my master-copy, so don't worry about it anymore. I think this is indeed the last chapter of this story, but not of my writings of Christine and Erik's life together. So I suppose I could hint that there might be a sequel, but no promises. I just cannot believe how long I've been writing on this story. I loved every minute of it…even the writer's block. I'd like to say thank you to my wonderful reviewers:

A Nonny Mouse (Clever!), reddancer, PhantomKnight (or PK as you are so hilariously called in my Pirates of the Caribbean humor fiction.), Musicallover6, Tony, RubyMoon2, ErikOrlando'sGirl, Viin, af881, Silverwolf47, OperaGhost 1881, LadyWillow, Erika Napoleonica, SmeagultheWeasul, SummerSong, Christine (I've always wondered how many people have wanted that screenname on ), Nicole, Crimson Syirean, Emmy6, junon8thepie, ShadowsChaos, Ladystrider77, Dal Muln, draegon-fire, Nomi-Clawskull, MysticDragon Wolf, PXlism, Jessy, Mel, Mystery Guest, The Real Christine Daae (Also Clever), Sharonarnotdon, lazy.kender19, Sora, phtmangl1013, DolphinAnimagus, Ai have a boring life, Blue Eyes at Night, Zacharias the Pain (By the way you never told me what your final thoughts on my story was) Latalian, dasz, noiseforyoureyes, Lonegungirl88, thedarkonereborn, Nicolio Strombolio, Rowin, Booklover03, artificalnight, La Sylphide, erik'sangel527, pandagal, phantomflutist2, gir, TheCure, Aristophanes, Liljenny (Who did not review on , but shared her thoughts in person), and Phantomraver. I truly hope I didn't miss anyone. Thank you for putting up with short chapters and long waits. Look out for my stories to come. Thank you.

A single candle burned softly illuminating the dark room. Erik silently watched the sleeping figure beside him in the bed. Christine knew not of his persistent nightmares. He had let his past go. Still it haunted him…even after all the years he had put between himself and his past. He brushed a soft curl from her forehead. He watched her eyes flutter open.

"Erik…?" She whispered, concern laced her tone.

"Go back to sleep, Mon amour, all is well." He framed her face with his fingers and gently brushed his lips against her cheek. She breathed deeply and he body relaxed beside him as he cradled her in his arms, but she did not close her eyes. She simply contented herself to remain in his arms and gaze around the room they slept in. It was their second night in the old manor, and she already adored it. It was out in the French countryside and their nearest neighbor was three miles away. She gazed up at the black canopy over their bed. They would raise children in this house. Their life would be wonderful…and they would be happy. Erik would be contented writing his music, and she would have their children to care for. She worried in dark hours of the night that he would be chased by the demons of his past…especially by the memory of his mother. She had awoken in the middle of the night only a few nights ago to the sound of quiet weeping. He was hiding his fears from her.

"Erik…" She whispered again. She tilted her head against the pillow so she could see his face better. His eyes were closed.

"Yes, Christine?" He asked gently.

"Do not be anxious." She placed her hand against his cheek.

"What makes you think that I am?" He asked seriously.

"I have not known you as long as some, but in my heart I have known you forever. I know that you are battling shadows, Angel." She watched his face for a moment, but his expression did not change. He merely placed a soft kiss upon his lips in answer.

"Promise me you'll be happy with me, don't let the darkness keep you away from me."

"I swear it to you, Christine… Sleep now." He said closing his hand over hers. Her tiny fingers and palm fit perfectly in his. They had been married for only two weeks and already she was caring for him. Erik sighed. He would have to try harder. He couldn't keep half of his heart away from her forever. Christine was so perfect for him, but he did not deserve her. He closed his eyes and remembered what she had looked like when he had brought her to the manor. He did not have time to hire men for the renovation on such sort notice. So she had seen it in all of its aging beauty…peeled paint, rotting wood floors, and all. He had guaranteed her that they had enough money to make it into a manor envied by all of Paris. She had shocked him by laughing giddily at him. He should have known she would react that way. She then proceeded to tell him she cared not what the manor looked like as long as the inside of the house was clean, which she could do herself. That was as close to a scolding he had come to so far. He smiled in remembrance. He glanced down at her. She was sleeping, and her breathing had become deep and it was a calming sound.

They had salvaged what they could from his home beneath the opera, taking only what they could carry. The mob had returned soon after and destroyed what was left. He was the Phantom of the Opera House no longer…now he was simply Erik. He had not ever been happy with what he had taken. It was strange that he had been given something that now filled him with the happiness he had always wanted. Christine had been given to him by God. It had been she who had convinced him to believe again. He gazed at her hand in his. The onyx ring still graced her finger. It was a symbol of the past, but yet it was a symbol of the future, for his wife wore it. The ring had been his mothers. She had given it to him before the gypsies had taken him. He had kept it for all those long years, not really knowing why he did. Now the ring served a purpose. It was not a symbol of hate anymore.

"Je t'adore." He whispered to her, even though she was sleeping.

Sleep was overpowering him. He could feel it pulling him lulling him gently into the world of darkness. He felt Christine gently shift her body and then settled back against him. Before he closed his eyes he heard her whisper something…whether it was only in her sleep or conscious he did not care. All he cared about was the words she whispered to him.

"Je t'adore…ange."