Christine was torn.
On the one hand: security. Raoul was wonderful, loving, the perfect friend, the perfect husband. She would want for absolutely nothing, could give up her career altogether and not have a care in the world ever again.
On the other hand: adventure. Passion. Mystery. Erik, though having multiple flaws, loved—adored—her like no one else. Her every action commanded his absolute devotion, and they would sing, sing until the stars blossomed and they would stand on the rooftop and watch the moonrise…
She sighed, her heart pained. The choice was clear, but how could she choose?