Like Father, Like Son | Phantom of the Opera

xxvii. What Do You Mean?

OCTOBER 1919

LARA

I was getting my earrings on in front of my vanity table when I felt the pain in my stomach again. I'd been later than usual that month and it hurt a bit more than normal, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I couldn't let it bother me though; we were going to be spending time with Erik that night and I would not allow myself to put a damper on the night he had planned. It was the first time Gustave and I had gone over there properly since we had returned home from our honeymoon.

"Are you ready, love?" Gustave had come in to check on me, which reminded me that I should have been downstairs nearly five minutes ago. "Are you alright? You seem off."

I slowly got up and I couldn't hide the sharp pain that stabbed my abdomen; I tried desperately not to, but I still winced. "Yes, I'll be downstairs in a moment."

My attempt to hide my pain proved to be in vain when I looked over at my husband's face and saw how worried he was. Without a second thought, he was right next to me and lowering me back onto the seat in front of my vanity table. "Lara, what's wrong? You're obviously dealing with something," he said.

"No, no. I'm sure it will pass in a little while." The pain was already fading away as I spoke; it must have been a heavy cramp, nothing I hadn't experienced before. "We told Erik we would go over there. Let's get going."

My answer didn't seem to satisfy him though; the look of anxiety was enough to tell me that. "Lara, if you aren't feeling well, maybe we shouldn't go. Papa will understand."

"No. We said we would be there. I'm fine, Gustave."

"Are you sure? You don't look fine." He was kneeling in front of me now, holding my hand. I gave it a squeeze to try and reassure him, which he returned.

"I said I am fine. Let's go, we're running late," I said as I stood up again.

Gustave must have realized that there was no hope for him to win the argument, as he got up as well. "Okay, okay. If you feel like you're getting any worse tonight, though, promise me that you will tell me."

"Alright. I promise I will." I took his hand and began walking downstairs. "Now come on. I've never been late for him before and I am not going to start now."

"Alright, let's go. Come on, I'll help you get your coat and shoes on."

"I'm not a child, dear. I don't need help," I said, crossing my arms as we reached the landing. It was meant to show my annoyance, but the pain had returned already and I was trying to hide it.

"I know you aren't a child, but you are in pain," he said and it reminded me that sometimes it was irritable that he could read me like a book. It made things like this much more difficult. "I just want to make sure you're as comfortable as possible."

"I'll be okay. Don't make a fuss."

Once again, he seemed to have realized that I was going to be very stubborn about the entire situation. "Okay, fine. Let's just go before I keep fussing over you and you bite my head off."

"I'm not going to do that. I still like you too much," I replied in an effort to lighten the mood. It seemed to have marginally worked seeing as Gustave cracked a small smile.

"Well, that's good. At least I still have that going for me," he practically whispered against my lips before giving me a soft kiss.

"That and much more, my dear," I responded in the same hushed tone before kissing him again.