Erik was feeling much better within the next few days, with much encouragement from Gustave and even a little from Raoul. Now that he was recovering, he had a decision to make. Where would he and Gustave go next? Surely Chagny did not want him to stay, and Erik was certainly not leaving Gustave with him. The issue was that Gustave made no notion of wanting to leave, and Raoul did not seem to mind their presence. In fact, he seemed glad to have company in that big, lonely house of his.
 
 Well, he did just lose his wife, Erik thought. Having someone here with him must ease the pain. 
 
 One night, after Gustave had gone to bed, Erik sat at the piano while Raoul sat in a chair staring into the fireplace, glass of wine in hand.
 
 "We're two fools, aren't we?" Raoul took a sip of the wine. "It was all so ridiculous. I don't know what I was thinking. Why would I bet on Christine at all, and especially with you? Good husbands do not do that sort of thing." 
 
 "You were very drunk that night," Erik pointed out. "And I was the one who proposed the deal. I knew there was a very good chance you would accept, and I was confident I would win."
 
 "So was I. It would have been nice to have all my debts paid for me. I felt horrible when Christine decided to go to New York and perform to get the money I needed, and still need now. I suppose she could have done much better than us, eh?" Raoul drained his glass and poured himself another.
 
 "I thought you were decreasing your consumption of alcohol," Erik remarked.

 "I am. This is only my second glass."

 There was a long silence as each stuck to their own thoughts.
 
 "I thought perhaps I would go my estate in Normandy for the rest of the summer," Raoul said eventually. "Lovely place, that is. Right by the sea. Would you and Gustave like to join me there? He always liked it there very much."

 "And you want me to join you?"
 
 "Well, I would not mind your company, I suppose. And Gustave would be happy if we all went together."
 
 Erik wasn't sure what to say. "That...is kind of you to offer. But I thought you would not want me here. I did try to murder you once, after all, and I tried to take Christine away from you and succeeded just before she died."
 
 Raoul took that into consideration. "Well, yes, there was that. You are Gustave's real father, but I believed he was mine until not so very long ago; I still love him, you know." He stood and came to sit next to Erik on the piano bench. "He is still my stepson. I want him to be my heir when I die. I am not going to have any other children, not now. I want to Gustave to succeed me, being that the only other option would be one of my nephews-Philippe's children. You are his father-would you mind if I leave my title and estate to him?"

 "No, I suppose I would not," Erik replied. This entire conversation had been absolutely nothing he had expected to hear. "I suppose you want him to live with you, then." 
 
 "It would make me happy. He's all I have now." Raoul took a deep breath. "But I know that he is all you have as well. Christine wanted him to know you, and I will respect her wishes. You are welcome to stay if you like, even though I still do not like you very much."
 
 "Do you often take such care of people you don't like when they are ill?" Erik asked a bit teasingly. 

 "No. I suppose you are lucky. If Philippe was bedridden with some sort of disease, I would not feel sorry for him."
 
 That made Erik smile. "What is it?" he asked when he realized Raoul was looking at him strangely.
 
 "You don't usually smile. You should more often. It looks better on you than your usual scowls and glares. Now, are you coming to Normandy or not? You still have not given me an answer."

 "Yes, I will join you there. This does not mean I like you or that I am growing fond of you."
 
 "I did not think so." Raoul gave a dry chuckle. "Listen to us. Christine must be looking down from Heaven and realizing what fools she fell in love with."
 
 Yes, perhaps she was. They still did not actually like each other; that was clear enough. But it seemed they had begun to hate each other just a little less.