The Angel's Shadow || The Phantom of the Opera || Book Two

13. Meaningless

Chapter Thirteen || Meaningless

Mélodie

"I gave him a chance to say he didn't love her, Maurice. He didn't say no."

"But he loves you, Mélodie. I know he does."

"He may." I kicked a stone into the lake and it landed with a plop! I sat down and dangled my legs over the edge of the rock, "But his love for Christine is stronger than his love for me."

I heard Maurice stand up and come over to sit next to me. His long legs made his feet come closer to the water than mine. I compared my expensive shoes with his scuffed up work shoes; the only pair he had, the only pair he could afford. When I had been a maid here I, too, had one pair of beaten up shoes. I miss being that girl. Life had been so simple then. There wasn't any voices in my head. There wasn't any pain in my heart. All I was was a plain girl wishing some mysterious masked man wasn't dead so I could hear him sing again.

Maurice sat close enough for me to feel his warmth through the thin cotton of his shirt. I held his hand in my lap, his side rumbling as he asked, "How do you know his love for Christine is stronger?" I opened Maurice's fingers and felt the rough calluses on his palm while my mind flashed to the last time I saw Erik. How could he hurt me like this? After all the love I had given him. Was it not enough? Or did it not come up to par merely because that love didn't come from Christine, his Christine?

"I could see it in his eyes, Maurice." Those emerald eyes that melted my soul. I remembered the night Christine had unmasked Erik in front of everyone. The hurt and betrayal I saw on his face haunts me even now. Those same green eyes looked like two glass ornaments about to shatter from they hurt and betrayal. At that moment, I had already been in love with him.

Maurice's embrace eased the knotted muscles in my neck and shoulders. I laid my head against him and I felt his cheek sink into my curls. His breath felt warm against my head as he spoke, "Looks like we're both out of love."

I chuckled, the smile to match it not reaching my eyes or my lips, "At least we have each other."

Maurice gently rubbed my forearm, comforting me, calming me. He repeated my last sentence, the sadness in his voice echoing the sadness in my heart, "At least we have each other."

He hugged me tighter and I snuggled into his side, allowing a few tears to escape and fall onto his trousers.

~*~

I watched the red flames consume the unopened envelope. Now that Erik knew where I was the letters came like a never ending rainstorm. He chooses now to tell me things, to talk to me, to open up to me.

Opening my trunk I looked at all the things that came from Erik. I should have left them at the house. I don't want them here. I don't need them here. I don't want to be reminded of our love. Our love that would never be enough. Our love that was a mere replacement for what he truly wanted.

Curling my fingers under the bottom of the trunk I lifted the side and dumped all of its contents onto the floor. I stood there before the pile of junk, rage heating my blood and clouding my mind. Gathering up all of our letters I threw them into the cold fireplace, the sound of the papers fluttering to the floor filling the lonely room. My chest quickly rose and fell as my lungs searched for air. My vision was blurred by tears, preventing me from properly lighting a match. After many failed attempts I scouted out another box of matches. Ramming the drawers open and closed I clawed through all of our clothes. Opening the last drawer of the dresser I stopped, my breath heaving and thick, burning tears dripping off of my chin like lava. I turned my attention to the article of clothing in my hand.