The Shadow's Melody || The Phantom of the Opera || Book One

23. Nothing Left To Fight For

Sorry for the delay again!!!! The last three days have been crazy with work. To say I'm exhausted is an understatement. But, before I pass out for the rest of my adult life, here is another chapter!

Chapter 23 || Nothing Left To Fight For

Mélodie

Setting my note for Erik down on his organ I walked back to the bedroom. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. He looks innocent, like a child. Happy.

I stared at him, trying to memorize every pore, every wrinkle, every scar. He stirred when I kissed his cheek and I left before he could wake up.

Going past the guards and through the front door of the manor I went straight to my room. Everything is basically packed and ready to board the ship tomorrow. My room was darkening due to the setting sun and it made me realize how long I had stayed at Erik's. Had I been away that long? I had planned to stay for an hour or two. But I couldn't leave. I couldn't leave his warmth and those green eyes.

I touched a petal on one of the roses and it fell to the table. Even the newer roses are dying now. Looking out the window and towards the Opéra Populaire I held the rose around my neck.

"An undying rose to symbolize my undying love for you."

A tear that I have been keeping prisoner finally broke loose. To have found him after all this time and to lose him so quickly. Taking in a deep breath I closed my eyes. His smell still lingering on me.

"'I can still taste you on my lips, your scent still lingers on my sheets. Your soft cries echo throughout my mind like music and I can still feel your touch.

I love you.'"

I stilled, a voice in the shadows robbing me of my breath, making my heart stop.

"'You said that you cannot bear being an ocean apart but I cannot bear being a city apart. Know that I am yours, Mélodie. All yours for the rest of our lives.'"

I turned slowly to face the voice.

"It appears our little queen has found love."

Seeing the source of the voice in the shadows I whispered, "Valentin."

He stood from my chair, my letters from Erik in his hands. There was something twisted in his smile, "Do tell me, my darling fiancé, who is this Erik?"

I backed up to the table, nearly knocking over the vase containing my beloved roses, "Valentin, give me those letters."

He turned them over in his hands, still slowly walking towards me, "It's rude of you to not introduce us." He held one up to read again, "'I can still taste you on my lips, your scent still lingers on my sheets.'" He is right in front of me now, towering over me, "And here I thought you refused me the other night because of your virtue. Instead you were just tired from screaming some other man's name." His hand flashed across my face, the stinging pain settling in after I heard the crack of his hand slapping my cheek. I fell to the floor, holding my cheek and staring up at him. Valentin snarled down at me, "The people of New France would be ashamed to know their new queen is a whore."

My tears felt cool against my throbbing cheek. I stayed on the floor, remaining silent.

Valentin's breathing is heavy with anger and his eyes are aflame with fury and hurt. His voice was raw when he spoke, quieter now, "I loved you, Antoinette. When our parents arranged our marriage I was the happiest man on earth. When you disappeared I searched and searched until they forced me to believe that you were dead. I thanked God for making me go to the opera because if I hadn't gone I wouldn't have found you. I love you."