This is based off of the short story "The Necklace." The setting has changed along with the time period (New York, 2011) and that's pretty much about it. It's the longer version of an essay I did for English.

It's basically just a different ending to the story, one that didn't end with her turning into a pauper.

The day of the party arrived. Mrs. Loisel was a sensation. She attracted everyone's attention with her grace and beauty. Even the minister took notice of her. Finally the party was over and it was time to leave.

"That was exhilarating!" Mathilde exclaimed, throwing her arms out to convey her happiness.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, dear," Loisel, her husband, replied while hailing a cab to take them home.

As soon as they were seated in the heated cab and the driver was zooming through the night-time lights and traffic of New York, Mathilde's mind wandered off. The night had been a blast, everyone had loved her! She was so glad her friend, Mrs. Forestier, invited her (and lent her a gorgeous necklace) and that her husband persuaded her into going albeit getting her a new dress. Everything had been perfect! The decorations, the people, the food, her dress, the necklace...

'Too bad it'll all be over by tomorrow,' Mathilde's mood instantly turned sour at the thought of returning to her manual labor job in the morning. She worked as a maid for upper-class New Yorkers. 'They should be rubbing my feet!' She thought fiercely. 'Not me theirs!'

It wasn't fair, or at least she thought so. Everyone around her was so well off, so used to the easy life when she and her husband had to work their arses off just to pay the month's rent! Why, Mrs. Forestier never had to lift a finger because she had maids to do it for her.

'Why can't I have all the things they have?' She thought miserably. 'What have I done to be resigned to a life of rubbing feet and mopping floors?'

She was pulled out of her self-pitying thoughts when the cab pulled up in front of their apartment building. She allowed her husband to pull her out of the cab and up the flights of stairs they had to take to get to their small apartment.

Mathilde was too depressed to have the energy to change out of her new dress and (borrowed) elaborate necklace. She merely collapsed on the bed like a child, trying not to delve back into her earlier thoughts.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Loisel asked, worry in his voice.

And that did it.

Mathilde snapped.

"Everything is wrong!" She screamed, getting up in her husband's face forcing him to fall back on to their bed. "My whole life is wrong! I've always known that I was better suited for the posh life! But, no. I was born practically a pauper! If we lived in old-time France, I wouldn't have a dowry to my name!"

Loisel's eyes went wide, not having known that his wife felt that way.

"I'm working day to night, seven days a week for minimum wage because my stupid boss is too fucking cheap to give me a promotion even thought he's richer than anybody!"

Loisel felt his throat clamp up with trying to hold back his tears.

"Look at me! Do I look like somebody who should have to be on her knees everyday, scrubbing floors? No! I deserve more!"

A few tears escaped, trailing down his face and down his neck. Loisel didn't stop them. His wife was too busy with her tirade to notice the pain etched on her husband's face.

"I shouldn't have to live like this!"

"You're right," Loisel finally said, his voice cracking. Mathilde finally looked at him, shocked at seeing him crying. "You shouldn't have to live like this. I'm sorry If I ever held you back." He stood up, gathering his coat in his arms and taking the time to wipe the tears form his face before facing his wife again. "I hope you can have a better life now that I'm not in it."

Before Mathilde could react or comprehend what was going on, Loisel was out the door, the door slamming behind him. He hailed cab and sped off towards his brother's condo, giving his wife the space he thought she needed.

"No! Loisel, no!" Mathilde yelled, chasing after him, but by the time she got to the car park he was long gone.

The next few weeks were pure agony for Mathilde. She tried going to work, but ended up in tears every time she thought of Loisel - which was very often. She tried calling and texting him, but he never answered - and when he did, he immediately hung up.

One afternoon - he had been gone for almost two weeks now - he answered. Before he could hang up, Mathilde rushed to get out what she needed to say. "Please don't hang up! I love you, and I need you, and I'm sorry I'm such a brat. Please, just please give me another chance."

On the other end of the line, Loisel swallowed the lump in his throat. It hurt hearing her voice again. But it felt good at the same time. Knowing she still loved him was the damn deal-breaker for him, but he held himself back form forgiving her so easily. "Mathilde, I love you, too."

Mathilde smiled, her grin eating up her face. 'He still loves me.'

"But, I can't come back to you."

Mathilde felt like her heart had dropped. The happy grin slowly turned into the saddest, most pathetic expression someone's face could make.

"Bu- but...you just said-"

"At least not yet," Loisel hurried to explain. "I need to know that I can still make you happy. I need to know that you're happy with me."

"Of course I'm happy with you. I love you," Mathilde replied, her voice breaking.

"I know, but I need to know that you're happy with just me," Loisel searched for words to explain. "I can't have you blowing up on me about how you hate your life every other week. You don't know what that does to me. It goddamn hurts thinking that I'm not good enough for you."

"You're more than good enough!" Mathilde exclaimed.

"I don't know that," he replied, rubbing a hand over his face. "I love you, but I need to know that you love me with all my faults, too."

The next week and half was filled by Mathilde doing extravagant things for her husbands. From renting out space from his favorite newspaper to say how much she loved him to covering every square inch of his brother's condo with roses.

But, Loisel still didn't come back.

Mathilde was damn frustrated. What could she do that was good enough? She was running out of ideas that would woo her husband back.

Finally, she resorted to calling her best friend. Mrs. Forestier picked up on the first ring (thank you, Caller ID). "What's wrong, Mathilde?"

"Oh, everything!"

Mrs. Forestier sat back against her elegant couch, sipping on her tea while she listened to her friend complain about how she was supposed to win her husband back.

"Mathilde!" She yelled at the phone once she heard hysterical tears. "Calm down and let's talk about this calmly."

Mathilde wiped away the tears she had let slip and sat up straighter in her chair. She said in a broken voice, "I don't know what to do."

"What've you tried so far?" Mrs. Forestier tried to keep the amazement from her voice when Mathilde told her about her antics. But she couldn't help but say, "And yet you complain about being poor when you just bought out a billboard to declare your love on?"

And that accusation hit so close to home that Mathilde dropped the phone and buried her face in her hands, letting the tears flow.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" She heard her friend's muffled voice say from the ground. She noisily wiped away the tears before picking the phone back up and asking what the hell she meant. "Exactly what I just said. Tell the guy how you feel. I've known you guys for years and I know for a fact Loisel hates over-extravagant things. He's really simple."

"Don't you think I've tried that? What do you think that damn billboard was for?" Mathilde exclaimed.

"I know, I know," Mrs. Forestier said. "But - like I just said - Loisel hates over-extravagant things. He probably didn't appreciate having his name published in a newspaper."

"Oh," and that was all Mathilde had to say.

"Can I come in?" Mathilde asked nervously, wringing her hands. Her brother-in-law glaring at her didn't help her nerves.

Nevertheless, he let her though. "He's in the guest room," he nodded to somewhere down the hallway.

With a thank you, Mathilde made her way to the door. Her feet felt like lead and her alms were sweaty.

'What if he doesn't take me back?' Her mind raced with unwelcome thoughts and she couldn't stop them. 'What if it's not good enough?'

She raised her shaking fist to the door, taking deep breaths before knocking three times.

She counted the seconds before the door opened.

1...2..3...4...5...6...

"What do you want?" Loisel said, rubbing a hand over his over-grown beard.

Mathilde jumped at the venom in his voice. "I-I.."

"Mathilde?" Loisel opened the door wide as it could go when he heard his wife's voice. He let himself take in her appearance.

'She doesn't look any better than me, and that's sayin' something.'

He cleared his throat before asking, "What're you doing here, Mathilde?"

"I want you back," Mathilde whispered. "I love you and I need you. I'll say it again, I'm sorry for being a brat. You didn't deserve to hear any of the things I said to you - "

Mathilde breathed, tears already spilling over her rosy cheeks. Loisel ached to take her into his arms, and never let her go, but he reigned himself back.

"I don't know what exactly want me to say to you, to promise you. I'm a bitch and that's not gonna change anytime soon, but I'll try to be better! I promise!"

Loisel, still not believing his wife, finally muttered, "But will I ever be enough for your dream lifestyle?"

Mathilde had the urge to roll her eyes, but held back. Instead she took her husband's face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. "I don't care about my stupid dream lifestyle. I care about you, about us. You're the only thing I need to be happy, not those material things."

Loisel started to object, but Mathilde mouth was on his before he could. He wrapped his arms around her petite body, bringing her closer. The kissed like that for a few minutes until Mathilde finally pulled back.

"I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't mater," Loisel whispered back, kissing her forehead. "I'll always love you."

Mathilde smiled.

She didn't need things like fancy dresses and pretty jewels when she had the best thing wrapped up in her arms.

"I love you, too."

I'm so cheesy it's hurts. Its not that good, but I didn't really bother to edit much.