I don't own anything belonging to any version of The Phantom of the Opera (Leroux, Webber, Kay)
Christine had been married only two weeks, and she was miserable. Raoul had always seemed to be the perfect fairy tale prince, and Christine was beginning to realize that he was not at all the prince charming she had once thought him to be.
She had left Erik a year ago, down in those dark cellars of the Opera House. She had insisted Raoul give her at least a year to mourn the loss of her angel before the marriage. At the time Raoul was willing to do anything for Christine; he was loving, tender, caring, and compassionate.
The wedding had been beautiful. She had worn a flowing lace dress and had held the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. The vows she had exchanged with Raoul had been heartfelt and had promised what should have been years of happiness together.
No, Raoul was not the man that she had thought him to be.
They had no honeymoon. Raoul was much to busy with his finances and duties to take time for 'frivolous activities' as he had called it.
The day after the marriage Raoul had told Christine that she was never to sing in the Opera House again. It was degrading for a woman of society to be seen in public singing upon stage. He was not going to allow his wife to be an Opera House whore.
He had forbid all music within the household, and Christine had felt her soul dying. But it wasn't these things that were the worst; it was during the evening hours that things became horrible.
Christine had never before noticed that Raoul had a drinking problem. He would get drunk in his study, and Christine always had to be careful with what she said and did lest she raise his temper.
When he was drunk he became rough and crude, he hurt her both physically and mentally with his actions and words.
One evening he had found her humming to herself. She had gotten a good beating for that. She ended up with a few broken ribs and a broken wrist and more bruises then she cared to count.
She wished she had never married Raoul, and she longed for her old life back.
She began dreaming of what things would have been like if she had stayed with Erik. She imagined that her career would be steadily growing and she would be able to be herself. Erik would never hurt her the way that Raoul did; he would encourage her to sing and he would be loving and affectionate.
But Erik was surely dead.
This hurt so much because over the last few weeks she had realized something that she knew she would regret forever. Raoul would never be her prince and he was most certainly not her soul mate, he was nothing more than a childhood friend who had changed greatly. He had changed into a man that she had learned to fear and resent.
Erik was her true prince and soul mate, and Erik was gone forever.
Erik had left the Opera house the night that he had kidnapped Christine during the performance of his Don Juan triumphant.
With the mobs invading his home it was not safe to return. He had sought shelter with Madame Giry and her daughter Meg, and had been staying with them in Northern France.
He had been sending his music to a publisher under a false name and had been helping the family, his family, stay on their feet.
Madame Giry had always been like a mother to him, and he had begun to look at Meg as a younger sister. He was glad to see that the young ballet dancer no longer feared him as she once did. He had shown her his face, and like her mother, she accepted him.
It was currently raining outside and Meg had asked him if he would do the honor of giving her piano lessons.
Erik had to smile at this, he knew full well why Meg wanted those lessons. A young man in the city owned a small, yet eloquent bar, and once a week he would allow people the chance to play the baby piano up front or sing.
Erik had seen the way Meg looked at this boy, Marius Fontay, if he recalled the name correctly, and recognized the look of complete love.
The boy was a fine young man, and Erik had seen no problems with him. Erik also took note that he looked at Meg with the same longing in which she looked at him. They would make a fine match.
Erik heard Madame Giry enter the large home that Erik had bought for them with his fortune. The woman looked worried. She walked into the foyer and asked that Meg leave so that she could have a private conversation with Erik.
After Meg had retreated up the stairs Madame Giry turned to Erik,
"Christine is in the hospital, and she has requested I come to Paris immediately."
The subject of Christine was still a rather poor spot for Erik to discuss. He hadn't wanted to think about her ever again, and he had been doing a fine job of it until Madame Giry had once again brought her name into their conversation.
"It makes no difference to me if you see her," Erik responded icily.
"Erik, I think her marriage is in trouble, please, try to be civil about this…"
"Civil about what?" Erik asked, he felt his stomach beginning to knot and he had a good idea what was coming next.
"Well, I told her she could stay here, until her divorce is finalized and until she can support herself again…"
"She broke my heart, she left me to rot away in my misery and you expect me to be civil with her! The only thing that I have asked of God is to never see her traitorous face again! Please, grant me this one wish do not bring her here." Erik pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but I already told her she could stay. I am not going back on my word. I just told you so you would know Erik, not to help me make a decision, for I knew what your answer would be."
"I need to get some fresh air." Erik said. And with a swish of his cloak he was out the door, and Madame Giry was left standing alone in the foyer.