JANUARY 1919

ERIK

Things had mellowed out into a new kind of normal since Gustave's return. We were all so happy to have him home and I could tell that he was happy to be back as well. He seemed to have readjusted to being home again as well; for about the first week or so, he would wake up at the most absurd hour of the morning and be unable to go back to sleep. I suppose the years of having to wake up at that time had instilled a routine on his internal clock. Since he wasn't in school anymore, he had more time to help me run the business from home, which meant we were seeing more of each other in the past month than we had in the past few years. I could never complain about that, though; it was a joy to have him home again. The frequency of Lara's visits practically doubled, as it seemed that they were making up for lost time. I did have to admit, though, that not having William come through the front door everyday left an empty section of my heart. It was an unavoidable truth that things could never go back to exactly how things were.

A couple of months after his return, on a day that I knew was important, but couldn't recall why, Gustave was upstairs on the phone with a client while Nadir and I were in the midst of having a surprisingly peaceful afternoon together. Gustave had volunteered to be the one who dealt with the clients in person and on the phone, and for that, I was eternally grateful. So while he had requested some time alone in the office to have a conversation with someone who was being particularly difficult to work with, Nadir and I had been enjoying some tea and friendly conversation.

We had fallen into a moment of comfortable silence until Nadir started laughing for no apparent reason. "I forgot to tell you. You'll never guess what Adele reminded me of," he said as he put his cup on the coffee table.

I racked my brain for a moment trying to think of who he could be talking about. Last I had checked, I hadn't done any designs for anyone named Adele. I also couldn't remember Nadir ever mentioning anyone by that name, so I gave up and decided to ask the obvious question: "Who is Adele?"

"Oh, just a friend," he said sheepishly, though judging by the redness building up in his ears, I could tell it was more than "just a friend." One would think he knew better than to try and lie to me; he wasn't very good at it.

"Oh really?" I replied, making it very apparent that I didn't believe him. "Where did you meet this friend?"

"When we were in Paris all those years ago, she-"

"Okay, come on Nadir, stop being cryptic; that's my department. Who is this lady?" I had quickly become invested in whoever it was; it had been years since he had mentioned a woman besides his wife to me.

"Do you really need the details?" He looked like he really didn't want to share, but he knew I was too nosey to not ask given the option.

"I want all of them."

"I should have known better than to give you the option," he said as he looked down at his lap trying to hide his embarrassment, though he wasn't doing it very well; he was blushing furiously, which wasn't easy for a man of his skin tone, and that alone told me how uncomfortable he was talking about the matter at hand.

"That's not my problem. Now tell me," I said.

"We met in Paris as I said. She was working as a ballet instructor while I was new to the country. I met her after a visit to the Opera and we got to talking. We hit it off right away," he explained.

I immediately put the pieces together and shock was an understatement when describing my reaction. "Madame Giry!" I exclaimed.

"I think that might be a record for how quickly you've put something together in a social situation," he said as he kept trying to hide his embarrassment, but the tips of his ears were still doing him no favours.

"What can I say? I'm learning." I tried to pull things back on track, as he was clearly trying to change the subject: "Now, I said I wanted all the details, so keep talking."

There was a heavy sigh from him before he continued; he must have realized that the topic was not going to go away until I was satisfied with how much I knew. "Madame Giry indeed. As we spoke, the rumours of the Opera Ghost naturally came up, and we discovered that we both knew you quite well. Having to deal with you and your...actions at the Opera made us quite compatible, we found. So we kept up our letter writing, shared a chat over a cup of tea now and then, and continued talking after she left for America and we haven't really stopped."

"What are the letters about nowadays?" I asked. I was having conflicting emotions about the whole situation. On one hand, I was glad Nadir had other friends outside of our group, but on the other hand, there was something about who that person was that just wasn't sitting well with me. I thought back to the last interaction I had had with Madame Giry at Christine's funeral; her daughter was the reason for that whole occasion, and though I had accepted her apology, it would be hard to admit full forgiveness.

"Just basic things that occupy our time and minds; nothing special, really," he said as he reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper. "Here, you can read her latest response. I have nothing to be worried about with this one."

"How sweet that you carry it with you. Close to your heart, no less," I jabbed at him, already wondering if it was a romantic correspondence or not.

Once again, his ears betrayed him and revealed the embarrassment that he was clearly trying to hide. "Oh hush, I picked it up this morning on my way here. There's nothing in this one that is worth keeping secret."

"We both know that you have your secrets, Daroga. I would like to know what the others entail, though."

He let out a small chuckle before continuing: "You wouldn't like the other ones. A few of them are purely mocking you."

"I truly feel respected in my own home," I said, pretending to be hurt. Honestly, though, I wasn't surprised; he mocked me to my face all the time. What difference did it make if it was written down?

As I read the letter, though, I couldn't help but feel like I shouldn't be the one reading it. I had known Madame Giry well, I knew how she wrote. The words on that piece of paper were only meant to be seen by one person, and it most definitely was not me.

"Nadir, as someone familiar with subcontexts of the written word, I can confidently say that she is interested in you," I said as I glanced up at him.

The shock on his face was unmistakable; he clearly hadn't been expecting me to pick up on her use of words. "What? Erik, you're being ridiculous," he said.

"Oh really? I'm the one being ridiculous? How could you not see it?"

He thought for a moment, and I could only assume he was trying to come up with a somewhat adequate excuse. "Well, it's impossible to see something that was never there in the first place," he eventually replied.

"I'll prove it to you then." I knew he was being stubborn; there was no other reason for his reactions. I accepted the fact that he wouldn't believe me, but there was someone in the house who he knew would never lie to him. "Gustave, get down here!" I called.

Almost instantaneously, fear was painted over the face of my friend as I heard the comforting thuds of Gustave coming down the stairs. He was about halfway down when Nadir pleaded, "Now Erik, there's no need to bring the whole family into this."

"Well, I suppose it's too late for that," Gustave said as he entered the living room. He looked between us and I believe he could see that we were at odds over something. "What's going on, Papa?"

"I need you to confirm my suspicions that this letter has romantic subtext," I said as I passed the letter to him. The look on Nadir's face as Gustave was reading was one of pure, unadulterated anxiety, which amused me, to say the least.

Gustave quickly finished it and made a similar expression as I believe I did when I had done my first read-through. "Dear God, Uncle Nadir. Who are you talking to?" he exclaimed. With that, I had my answer; I did enjoy being right.

"Her name is Madame Adele Giry," I confessed.

Gustave's jaw practically hit the floor in surprise. "Is this the same Madame Giry I am thinking of?" he inquired, looking to me for confirmation.

"The very same," I replied. I hadn't thought a jaw could go that low without being unhinged. You learn something new every day.

Gustave finally reconnected his jaw and placed his hand on his chest before mocking Nadir some more: "My, my then. The scandal!"

"We are just friends exchanging letters! There is nothing romantic about it!" Nadir shot back. He was going on the defensive, confirming our suspicions that there was definitely more to it than "just friends".

Gustave lifted the letter back up to his face and read a line from it: "'I long for the day we can finally meet and be face to face.' Come on, Uncle. We knew Papa was oblivious, but I thought you were better."

"I resent that comment but the point is correct, " I said, pointing accusingly at Gustave, who was snickering at his own comment, believing he had gotten away with making fun of Nadir and myself in a single blow. A small part of me was impressed with the fact that he was capable of doing that.

"What is so inherently romantic about this? It is just two friends exchanging letters. Nothing more," Nadir said, grasping at straws since he knew he wasn't going to win so long as Gustave and I were in the same room.

To prove that point almost perfectly, Gustave and I replied simultaneously, "Sure it is."

An elongated and exasperated sigh left Nadir before I decided to continue: "My friend, I think it is safe to say that she definitely wants something more than a friendship."

"On that, we can agree," Gustave chimed in. "Am I still necessary?"

"You're done here. Unless you're interested enough to want to stay and see how this plays out," I said, though, in reality, I wanted him to stay in case I needed backup.

"Well, I was supposed to go to Lara's home and speak to her father, but I'm very tempted to stay and see where this goes."

It was then that I finally remembered what day it was and shooed him off. "Don't be late. I'll fill you in later."

"Goodbye, you two. Enjoy your little debate," he said with a nod.

Nadir and I said our goodbyes and it seemed that he had been hoping that I would let the conversation end. Honestly, though, I thought he knew me better than that by now.

"So, what are you going to do about your 'friend's' desires?" I inquired.

"You mean the figments of your imagination?" he retorted. He was getting snippy, which usually meant I was either close to getting to the root of things or I was about to be hit. Needless to say, I was hoping for the former rather than the latter.

"Nadir, for the love of all that is good on the earth, why are you so determined to not see this? Madame Giry - Adele is interested in you! Dare I say in love. Are you going to deny her that?" At that point, I was getting tired of him as well. There was nothing inherently wrong with a woman being interested in him.

It looked like he was about to try and deny my claims again before he finally broke: "I don't know! I thought if I ignored it that it would just go away."

"You don't want this then? What's making you hesitate, Nadir?" I asked, trying to see things from his perspective, but I still could not understand what his problem was with the whole situation. "Even with everything that's happened between us in the past, Adele is a lovely woman."

"I just never imagined myself ever being with someone on that type of emotional level again."

My brain finally clicked all the puzzle pieces together; at last, things were making perfect sense to me. "You feel you're betraying her, don't you? Rookheya," I said gently.

"Yes, I do. I feel like that every time I experience joy," he admitted before he took a moment to collect himself. Despite all the times I had seen him get emotional, he was still determined to make sure he never cried in front of me if he could help it. "Every time I see a woman that I happen to find beautiful or look at that wonderful young boy of yours and feel the same thing I felt when I looked at my own son."

"You cannot do that to yourself. Take it from someone well aware; telling yourself that you don't deserve joy makes your world so much darker. And you, my friend, deserve that joy."

"I just can't bring myself to do that to her, though." He pulled out the locket that he kept his wife's photograph in and looked at it with such a pained expression that it almost broke my heart. "To either of them, really."

"Then take it slow. Think about it; if Rookheya knew you were wallowing in your own sorrow like this when a chance for happiness was standing in front of you, would she be happy with you?" I asked. I was trying to use logic to help him work things out for himself, though I was afraid I might end up making the problem worse.

"She'd give me the scolding of a lifetime," he replied, still not looking up from the locket in his palm.

That line of thought seemed to have worked, so who was to say that I couldn't take it one step further? "You know she would have. Now, what would Reza say if he saw you forcibly making yourself unhappy in his name?"

I was shocked to see it, but a tear actually rolled down his cheek at the mention of his son. "Reza would be so mad at me if he saw me like this," he said quietly.

"Exactly! This is why I am suggesting that you consider acknowledging Adele up on her comments." I spoke slowly to not disrupt the obvious whirlwind of emotions he was going through. "Rookheya would want you to be happy. Don't rush it if you're hesitant. Consider it, though. I could see you two being very happy."

He finally closed the locket and looked me in the eyes as he spoke: "It's not just that, Erik. I don't feel that type of emotion for her and I don't want to ruin this friendship."

"Alright then. There we go. You know what you feel and it's fine." I knew him and I was well aware that he was beating himself up for the situation on multiple accounts. The first layer alone was the one where he feels guilty about talking to another woman, the other was the fact that he didn't feel any attraction to the woman he was talking to. There might have even been more though I had a hard time believing that he would let me in that much. He and I were the same in that sense; nobody was allowed too far in.

"Don't take what I'm saying the wrong way, Nadir; I only want you to be happy. If that's how you feel, though, no need to change that. If you ignoring the comments for a time hasn't affected anything, continue that way. At this moment, no comment on it is better than one stupid one," I said.

"You speak from experience. You've gotten yourself into quite a lot of trouble by making stupid comments," Nadir replied as we both let out a quiet laugh as we reminisced about my failed attempts at romance.

"That I have. That's why I don't want you to do the same thing. Stupid comments just led me to heartbreak. I never want you to feel more of that than you already have," I said.

He gave a slight nod in agreement before saying, "We both really have had our full share of that."

"Indeed. We need no more of it."

Without a word, we stood up and hugged each other. That wasn't something we did often, so it felt like that solidified how important our conversation had been. I knew that he had needed it to happen, but I hadn't realized how much I had needed it as well; I suppose one needs to hear their own advice before being able to take it themselves. I had believed so long that I was unworthy of all the great happiness I had been granted, but finally, I was able to ask myself the same question I had asked Nadir: What would Christine say to me? I was able to realize without a doubt that she would scold me in the same way that my friend's wife would have scolded him.

"Keep up your correspondence with Adele. Make no mention of her advances," I said once we had let go of one another. Tears were welling up in my own eyes and I could tell that he was doing the same. "And tell her I say hello."

With his hand on my shoulder and a small smile on his face, Nadir replied, "I will. Thank you."

"Anytime."

~~~~~

GUSTAVE

I stood outside the front door of the beautiful home and I couldn't help but think back to the first time I had ever walked up those front steps. I had been confused and scared out of my mind. Though it appeared the confusion had passed, the fear was still alive and well. My one question was running through my head like a madman, but unfortunately, that also meant that the possible answers, both positive and negative, were not far behind. Slowly but surely, with a shaky hand, I knocked on the door.

"Hello, Gustave. How are you?" Mary asked as she opened the door. She was a little woman who had been working for the family as a maid since I had left for my army position.

"I'm doing well. Is Philippe home?" I inquired. A small part of me was hoping that he wasn't home so that I would have more time to plan this out perfectly.

After a moment of thought, she replied, "I believe he is in the study. Would you like me to take you to him?"

I quickly refused, as I knew where the study was. That was one of the first rooms in the house I had been introduced to all those years ago. She seemed satisfied with my response and left me alone in the front hall, going to continue with her work, or so I assumed.

I took my time making my way to the study. My mind was filled with the memories of my first evening in the house; it was in that front hall that Lara had kissed me for the first time. We had told one another that we loved each other in that front hall as well. I had told her my story with her uncle in those same halls. I remembered the anger, the fear, the pain all flooding me at once in those moments. Lara had chosen me then, and in that instant, I knew that she and I were meant to be together for far longer than either of us thought possible.

I finally reached the study to find that the door was already open and, just like Mary had said, found Philippe in there. He looked to be busy with some type of paperwork and I began to doubt whether or not it was an appropriate time for me to be here. I was about to turn around and go home, not wanting to disturb him, but seemed to have seen, as he called to me when I tried to make my escape.

"Gustave, right on time. Come in," he said. I didn't dare disobey, so like an automaton, I walked into the study and sat down in the chair that he had gestured to. I couldn't help but notice that there was a brightly coloured envelope on the table in between us. Philippe seemingly caught me staring at it, so he picked it up and stuffed it in a drawer in his desk. He was being clumsy, so it took him longer than it normally would have taken him, but that only added to my curiosity.

"It's nothing important," he said.

"Is everything alright, Philippe? What was that all about?" I asked.

He gave a nervous laugh. "It was nothing," he insisted.

"Why are you so nervous then?"

"Just some letters from a client." Again, his nervousness was given away in his voice; Philippe had never been good at lying on the spot.

"Philippe, are you alright?" I asked.

Eventually, he sighed and shook his head as he started to cave. "Alright then, I suppose it won't be too bad if I tell you," he said. It seemed I had broken his rather weak facade. "It was an invitation to a baby shower."

I was even more confused than when we had begun. "What's the big deal about that?" I inquired.

"It's from...my brother." There was a hard pause as Philippe thought through what he was about to say very carefully. "It's actually for his second child."

Those words hit me like a tidal wave. That man remarried. He had a whole new family. He was having a baby. Like I never existed, like Mother never existed. As if I needed any more confirmation that I had meant nothing to him since the moment he realized that I wasn't his. One would think that after being a part of my life for the first ten years he would have developed some form of emotional attachment, but apparently, that was a foolhardy belief. I wasn't sure why it was hitting me as hard as it was, though; I hadn't thought of that man in years.

"His second child. He remarried?" I queried.

"I received a letter telling me about it about a week after you had left. While you were gone I received word about his first child. It appears he is trying to mend our relationship," Philippe explained.

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to make of all the thoughts that were racing through my head. I don't believe I was in control of my mouth when I said, "It appears he's found a new life to ruin."

Philippe didn't seem phased by my comment; he had undoubtedly heard some of the stories of my past from Lara. However, a silence dropped over the room like a heavy blanket. I had to say something to get things rolling again if I had any hope of asking the question I had come here to ask.

"Are you going to reply to him?" I asked.

"I don't believe I will," he said. I was taken aback by his response. I was one person who entered his life just a few short years ago while that man was his brother, someone who he had watched grow up and was related to by blood. "He didn't tell his own brother about his wedding until a month after it had happened and I found out about my first niece after the baby's first birthday. He has made it clear that he does not want me to play an active role in his life. Moreover, after knowing now what he is capable of doing to the people he is supposed to love, I don't think I want to repair things," Philippe added.

The way he looked at me as he said that was a feeling I could only describe as being respected and accepted at the same time. He had taken me into account when deciding what to do about his relationship with his brother, which was something I never could have expected. I truly felt like he considered me a part of his family and that only made me more confident about what I had come there to do.

The timing finally felt right, so I decided that was my opening: "Philippe, thank you very much for that, and for everything you have done for me. I actually came here to-"

I was thrown off guard then and abruptly stopped talking when another man came into the room; he looked similar to Philippe with darker hair and slightly taller. I wasn't sure what to do so I simply said, "Hello?"

"Hello there, you must be Gustave. Lara has told me all about you. I'm André," he replied. I quickly realized who he was; Lara's older brother. He didn't have an English accent as she did, but I quickly remembered that she had told me he moved to America to expand the family company there.

He put out his hand for me to shake it and I was in such a state that my motions could only be described as forced and automatic as I shook his hand and was very unsure of what to do next.

"If this is a bad time, I could come back later. I'm sure you would want to be spending this time with André," I said to Philippe. My brain was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he was there as I was trying to escape, though my efforts were quickly proven to be in vain. Things had gotten thrown out of order in my brain; I didn't feel comfortable in the room again.

"No, please don't worry about it. André has been here for a couple of days already, we have had plenty of time to chat. He just came to visit before he isn't going to be able to come for a while; his wife is expecting a little one," Philippe explained as he gestured for me to sit back down.

"That's wonderful for you. You must be excited about that," I said, getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. I was unsure whether or not I would be able to ask Phillipe my question with André in the room; I had nearly had a panic attack about asking Philippe alone.

André sat in the chair next to me and took a sip of the scotch in his glass. "Thank you, we're very excited! I've always wanted to be a father, and my wife is practically giddy. It is the first grandchild, so my parents are quite happy as well. As is Lara; she can't wait to be an auntie," he said.

"Anyhow, enough about that. I'm sure that isn't what you came here to hear," Phillipe began, trying to steer the conversation back to a place that I had hoped to avoid. "You were about to say something, Gustave."

"Well, yes, actually. Um...now, my thoughts seem to be all over the place. Pardon me," I stuttered. I had gone over the conversation a thousand times, why was my mind deciding to bank out at that moment? My hands were getting sweaty and my breaths were becoming harder to take in. Maybe being blunt would make things easier; that technique usually worked for Papa when he was stressed. "I came here to ask for your permission to...propose to Lara."

Something seemed to immediately click inside André's mind, as he quickly placed his glass on the table and turned to face me properly. "Before you say anything, Father, I would like a conversation with Gustave. It's not like I had the chance to when they began seeing each other. I never got to exercise my privileges as her older brother. It's only fair if I get to interview him," he said.

My heart dropped in my chest. What did all of that mean? What was he going to ask me? What if I answered the questions incorrectly? I could feel the colour draining out of my face and my vision was getting blurry. André's intense expression was wiped away and one of concern replaced it as he could tell that he had made me nervous.

"Don't look so nervous! I'm sure you're a fine young man, I trust my sister's judgement more than my own sometimes. But I want to ensure that assumption is correct," he said with a laugh.

I could feel the warmth returning to my face, particularly in my cheeks, given my embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting this," I replied, laughing nervously.

"Which means your answers will be honest." His smile as he said that was one that gave off the impression of both fear and sincerity. "So what is it that you do for a living?"

I couldn't help but think back to that dreadful dinner where Philippe had asked me that very same question, though the answer hadn't really changed despite all those years. "My father and I run an architectural company. I currently work as his partner, but eventually, I will be inheriting the company," I explained.

"That sounds promising for you. It seems you and I are in the same boat then." I suppose he was right, though I didn't believe that our little company could rise to the power of his and his father's. "Next thing then. What do you do in your free time?"

"Well, one of my hobbies includes music. My mother was a singer and my father is a composer as well as an architect. I suppose you could say that I was born into music." My voice felt so shaky as I spoke; I really did not want to mess anything up, but I also wanted to come off as confident. I suppose I could only have one of those things and would have to sacrifice the other. "I also do a lot of reading. It's actually something that Lara and I share."

"Your father seems very important to you," André said.

I didn't even have to think about my answer before giving it that time: "He is easily one of the most important people in my life. After my mother passed away it was just him and me. We've made do and created sort of a family of our own design, with the parents of one of my close friends and my father's best friend who has become an uncle to me more than anything else. We do look quite odd when we're all together, but it is my family nonetheless."

"Family is important to you?"

"They mean everything to me." Those were answers I didn't have to think twice about and that I actually felt confident saying.

"Good answers. I suppose my last question is: Why?" That one caused me to have to think quite hard; I was unsure of what he meant, and he could apparently see that. "What I mean is, why do you want to marry my sister?"

"Oh my. Where do I even begin with that?" I was trying to get my thoughts in order so that it came out sounding at least a little bit intelligent. "Lara means more to me than words can describe. She has always been there for me, supported me and comforted me when I need it most. I've always been blown away by her intelligence and her bravery to always say what is on her mind. She is one of those people who always want to know the answer and will stop at nothing until she gets it and that is something I have always admired about her. She knows how to reel me in when I get too worked up about things and my short fuse starts to go. Lara knows when to push me to make me better. I suppose the real answer to your question is why wouldn't anyone in the world want to marry her? I'm just the lucky fool she chose to be with."

When I was done with my verbal essay, I was terrified by the silence that followed. Had I gone too far? Did I not go far enough? Did I just mess things up? My hands were starting to shake again and I could feel my mouth getting dry. Once more, it was proven that I really needed to put more effort into hiding my anxiety because apparently, it was visible to André.

"Don't be so nervous! I'm simply toying with you to make you squirm. Lara doesn't shut up about you in her letters, I'm not worried about you. Of course you can marry her," he said.

At that point, Philippe frowned and decided he should chime in: "Wait a minute. Who said that you had that type of authority? Because it certainly wasn't me."

"Were you going to say something different after hearing all of that?" André replied as he retrieved his glass. Such a simple, teasing question, and yet, it terrified me nonetheless.

"Just because you have a point doesn't mean you get to have the final say. I'm the father here and that is still my privilege," Philippe retorted before looking back at me and smiling. "Gustave, of course you have my blessing. The fact that you came here and were so nervous shows me how important she is to you. You are a good man with a good heart. There is nobody else that I would be prouder to call my son-in-law than you."

Elation filled my chest and I practically jumped out of my chair. "Thank you very much," I said, barely containing my glee.

After brief goodbyes and handshakes, I left the father-son pair to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon together. I came close to running all the way home once I was out the door. I was over the moon; I hadn't felt so perfect since Lara had told me that she loved me. Now I had the opportunity to show her that I would love her until the end of time.

~~~~~

When I got home, I ran through the door and practically jumped into Papa's arms. "Good god, you know you can't be doing that anymore. You aren't as small as you used to be," he said with a laugh.

Realizing what I had done, I let him go and just stood there waiting for him to regain his faculties. I probably had the stupidest grin on my face, but I couldn't care less about it; I was so happy that I didn't believe anything could have taken me down from that high.

I couldn't even wait for him to finish straightening himself out to share the news: "Philippe said I had his blessing. This is going to be perfect."

"I'm glad you got the answer you wanted. Now you actually have to ask Lara," he said, making me stop in my tracks. I had thought everything through when it came to asking her father for permission, but I hadn't thought to make a plan for the outcome.

"My god, I haven't thought this through. How should I propose? What do I say?" A gasp escaped me when the realization hit that an important piece of the whole puzzle had been left out: "What about the ring?"

Papa didn't respond to me at all, which quickly started to worry me; he was always the one with a plan and several backup plans. If he could offer me nothing, I was truly hopeless. However, without a word, he went upstairs, and when he returned, he had a small black box in his hands. With the way he was holding it, one would think that it was about to turn to dust. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had seen that box before at some point or another when I had been rummaging around in his closet.

Again, without saying anything, he gestured for me to sit down. Once he was seated across from me, he placed the box carefully on the table and opened it. Inside was a beautiful gold ring with a black stone set in it. It was perfect in its simplicity and I knew exactly where I had seen it before.

I was afraid to raise my voice too high, so I simply whispered a question that would help to confirm my suspicions: "Is this what I think it is?"

Papa only nodded at first and I was completely taken aback. "A replica. A good one, but not the original. That one is with your mother," he explained as he looked at the ring with such a sense of longing that it made me miss Mother even more than I already did.

"Are you sure, Papa?" I had to ask; I could only imagine how much that ring meant to him, and I only wanted to take it if he was absolutely sure.

Instead of answering my question, he presented me with one of my own: "You love her, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You know that."

"If you are absolutely sure about that, then why are you asking me such a question?" he inquired. He was still staring at the ring that sat in between us, almost as if he was having a conversation with it. Almost like he was having a conversation with Mother, like that ring held a part of her that he could hold on to. It felt wrong for me to take that from him. "Your mother would have wanted you to have this; that is something I know for sure. She would want you to have found the girl you love and would have given it to you herself were she here. But in her absence, I am still here and I am telling you that you can have this."

I could tell that he needed it, so I stood up and hugged him while he sat in his chair. We spent the entirety of the evening coming up with a master plan of how I would ask her. I wanted it to be no less than perfect, and with Papa's help, I knew I would be able to make it possible.

~~~~~

The next day had arrived and I was practically shaking all throughout dinner. The ring sat in my pocket and it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. After dinner, Papa had excused himself, saying that he had some work to be done in the study, though I knew my father well enough to know that very little work would be getting done that evening.

After that, Lara and I had made ourselves comfortable on the couch in the sitting room and it just felt so perfect. The candles were glowing and providing Lara with enough light to read her book while she used me as her cushion. She was reading something that she had picked up earlier that day while we were out together; it was a French novel, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, that had been translated into English. I had suggested getting the French version and I would read it to her, but she insisted that she read it for herself first. I was looking over her shoulder and just admiring how peaceful everything was. That moment made me more certain than ever that I wanted to stay like that for the rest of my life.

I made sure to wait until she was done with a chapter so that she would be able to re-enter the story after I asked her. "I had a thought," I said to her. My heart was racing, and the fact that she barely gave me a noise of acknowledgement was doing nothing for my nerves. It was now or never, though. "Will you marry me?"

She barely even looked up from the book as she said, "Gustave, I thought we were reading this together. Please stop talking so that I can focus."

I had to work hard to stifle my laugh; she had barely heard me. I suppose it was all just noise to her at the moment. I should have known better than to ask her while she was reading; I of all people should know how concentrated she could get. I could only picture Papa listening to us from upstairs, probably trying not to laugh as well. It was a risky move, but I carefully reached over her shoulder and picked the book up out of her hands.

"Gustave, what on earth are you doing?" By the time she had sat up and turned around to face me, I had already gotten down on one knee in front of her. Her hands covered her mouth as she gasped; seemingly, she was finally able to process the question I had asked her while she was lost in her book.

I slightly fumbled around trying to get the ring out of my pocket, but once it was out, I was able to look back up at her and see that there were tears in her eyes. "This ring has a meaning deeper than I could ever hope to describe. It is an exact replica of the one my father gave my mother. Never have I seen a love so patient, so full. But now I realize that I don't need to see it because I am living it every time I'm with you. You know music has always played such an important role in my life, and my father tells me that he heard melodies when he saw my mother. When I look at you - dear god, Lara - I hear a symphony. Would you do me the absolute privilege of marrying me and help me make the music of the night?" I asked.

I didn't know what to do when she didn't say anything. Did I do something wrong? What was she thinking? Why hasn't she said anything? I silently asked myself. The suspense was killing me slowly. Neither of us had moved from our positions; I was still on one knee with the ring in my hand and she was just sitting there with her hand over her mouth. She could have already said yes and she could have already said no, and I wouldn't have seen it.

I decided to end my own suffering and try to get some type of response that I could work with. I knew that the fear would be apparent in my voice as I spoke but I needed to hear something rather than the suffocating silence: "Lara?"

Instead of a verbal response, I was greeted with the warm and wonderfully perfect feeling of her lips being pressed against my own. I felt her lips smile against mine and I could not describe the feeling in that moment other than using the word perfection.

Once we had separated, she still had a beautiful smile spread across her face and she looked at me with much amusement. "Was that doubt I heard?" she asked.

"Never, love," I said to her as I slipped the ring onto her finger. "Never in a million years."

We had both stood up and were just standing there holding one another when Papa decided to make his entrance. "I gather you got the answer you wanted," he said nonchalantly.

Neither of us knew exactly how to respond to that statement, so we simply laughed at how casually he was approaching the situation. Once we had calmed down, Lara left my arms, only for her to go to Papa and hug him as well. "Thank you for the ring, Erik. It's beautiful," she said.

He squeezed her a little tighter when he heard her thanks. I couldn't be happier to see how close they had gotten; it made the whole moment feel that much more complete. "That ring was the gift I gave to my one true love, and I know that I want nothing more than for my son to give it to his true love as well," he said softly. "Welcome to the family, Lara." 

~~~~~

updated: 12-02-20

word count - 7479

the beans are engagedddddd

we're so happy with how this chapter came out! @Buddy_2002 tried her hand at writing fluff and it came out great! we hope you enjoyed :)