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Christine could hear her husband crying in their bedroom. Knowing Gustave could comfort him, and knowing he needed space, she resumed making her food. Salami and cheese and crackers, an easy and tasty hor d'oeuvres to prepare.
She sat down at the kitchen table and read a book while she ate. More than reading the book, however, she thought about Gustave. He had had his second episode yesterday. Madame Giry said it was a sensory hypersensitivity, but Christine didn’t care about the labels. She just wanted to know her son was okay.
After some time, Erik’s cries quieted, and turned to sniffles. Christine stood up and cleaned her dish before heading to her room.
She was expecting many things, but she could have never been prepared for what she saw.
There, in her bed, lay her husband and her son. Gustave’s head was tucked under Erik’s chin, and Erik’s face was buried in Gustave’s hair. Erik had his arm around Gustave. The two were so close, they might as well have been the same person. They were both sound asleep.
Christine’s hand flew up to her mouth, and she began to cry as well. But while Erik’s tears were tears of sadness and fear, hers were tears of pure joy.
Leaving her boys to sleep, she ran upstairs to the office of her former ballet master. Not even bothering to knock, she burst into Madame Giry’s office and found the two Girys sitting and talking. Their conversation ceased as soon as Christine entered the room.
“Is something wrong, Christine?” asked the elder Giry. “You’re crying.”
“Oh, madame, you will never believe what I saw! He was…they were…”
Christine broke into tears.
“Chrissy! Are you okay?” Meg spoke this time, throwing her arms around her friend.
When Christine finally calmed down, she told them what she had witnessed.
“Erik…Erik and Gustave were in our bed, asleep…and Gustave was tucked into him. And—and Erik was holding Gussy and they both looked so…peaceful, and…”
Unable to finish the sentence, Christine changed strategies.
“Would you two like to see it? I swear, it’s the most beautiful thing…”
Meg was happy, yes, but Madame Giry’s reaction was what got Christine.
Tears were falling from the old woman’s eyes.
Madame Giry never cried. And yet, the boy she had saved, the monster he was forced into, the man he finally became, was at peace.
The Phantom of the Opera was sleeping holding his son.
This was quite a momentous day.