Betrayal

He heard someone singing before he saw her. He knew that voice all too well. That beautiful, angelic voice had haunted his dreams for the past few months, ever since that night that she had abandoned and betrayed him.

She stood in the doorway of his music room. She was dressed in a pretty blue dress, the color perfectly matching her innocent sapphire eyes. She looked exactly as she had when she left him. He remembered her soft, brown hair and full, pink lips so well. They had always been there in his nightmares.

It's a hallucination, nothing more, he told himself. And yet she was there, so solid, so real that he knew he was not dreaming. She walked over to the couch on which he sat and joined him silently. She was close enough that he could smell the light lavender scent that she always wore.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, he asked, "What are you doing here? Why have you returned?"

She replied in a voice that was slightly husky with emotion, as well as extremely seductive. "I have return to the Opera Populaire to act again. I will be playing the role opposite you in 'Don Juan Triumphant.'"

She had moved slightly closer to him while talking to him, and her nearness was slightly disconcerting for someone who was trying to think clearly. "But why have you decided to return? Why didn't you just stay with that boy?" he asked. He saw the hurt in her eyes and quickly asked a little gentler, "Does Raoul know that you are here?"

"No, he is in London." she replied a little regretfully.

Erik's anger flared again. How much more pain did she want to put him through? "So now I am a second love for you, a mere toy to be used when you get lonely?" he asked, filled with rage. He got up from beside her and walked over to his pipe organ. "You made your choice that night. You decided Raoul. Now you must live with your choice!"

She got up and slowly made her way to stand by him. "I chose wrong." she said simply as her lips neared his.

Mercedes walked into her dressing room. At least I found someone to be the lead soprano in the play "Don Juan Triumphant." Now all she needed was to see whether Erik would be Don Juan or if he had decided against it. She slid open the mirror and walked down the narrow passage, only to find that the gondola that usually awaited her there was absent.

Marching to Madame Giry's room, she knocked softly on her door. She felt bad about constantly interrupting Madame Giry lately, but business was business. Madame Giry told her another way to get into the basements of the opera house. Before leaving Madame Giry's room, she asked Madame Giry if she had indeed told Christine Daae that "Don Juan Triumphant" would be performed. Mercedes was a little suspicious of the small soprano, and she had a nagging feeling that Christine had not told her the whole truth.

"No, I did not. You told me specifically that I should not share that information with anyone. Christine Daae came here, but we just chatted about how our lives had been going. The only information that I relinquished was the fact that you are the Opera Populaire's new owner." replied Madame Giry.

Mercedes thanked Madame Giry and left, puzzled. How had Christine known about the performance? She decided to worry about that later. First she wanted to see if Erik would play Don Juan.

As Mercedes neared Erik's home, she heard two people talking. One of the voices was Erik, but the other one, who was it? Suddenly, the clues all seemed to fit into place. Running silently, she reached the Music Room, only to find Erik and Christine Daae kissing each other.

She wrote the letters quickly, wanting to get out of the Opera Populaire before she was needed. She hailed a hansom cab and got in. After giving the driver the directions to her home, she slumped down in the seat and stared out the window. It was spring in Paris, and it was absolutely beautiful. The flowers were all in bloom, there was life everywhere. Everywhere but my cold soul, she thought. Pitying herself was not usually in her nature, but she felt that there was always a first time for everything.

Her glazed eyes focused on a sight that she had not wished to see. A young couple was kissing passionately under the shady bows of a dogwood tree. She quickly turned her face away, drawing a sharp breath.

She paid the driver and walked into her mansion. She had not been in her house since the day that she had decided to live in the opera house. Drifting, ghostlike, into the house, she noticed that most of the house was a little dusty. She had dismissed her maids the day that she had moved into the Opera Populaire. She thought, what a strange thing for me to notice how dirty my house is. Ah, well, they always say that you notice the oddest things when you are about to die.