September 18th 1892: Christine
Raoul gaped at me, his mouth hanging slightly open. The expression on his face was a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.
"Are you… making a joke?" he asked. "It is not funny, Christine."
"I know it's not," I gave back in a slightly irritated voice. He should have known me better than to think that I'd make jokes about such a serious topic.
It occurred to me that perhaps he didn't believe me because of the tears in my eyes. Perhaps he assumed that I was tying to make him forget I had been crying by making a joke. Hastily I wiped the tears away and put the handkerchief back into my pocket to show that I wouldn't start crying again anytime soon. At least I hoped I wouldn't.
"I'm serious," I told him. "I'm sorry that I've taken your by surprise, but I didn't know how else to say it. I just don't want to be with you anymore, Raoul, at least – "
He didn't let me finish my sentence.
"But why?" he cried. "We're married for more than ten years. We did have a few problems, yes, but all couples have them every now and then. Can't we just forget them and focus on the good times we had… and on our future?" He looked at me pleadingly.
"Oh Raoul," I said, shaking my head. "That is what you always want to do: push things out of our heads and never talk about them again. But that's not the way it works. I can't forget the problems we had… just like you can't forget what happened between Erik and me, no matter how hard you try and how often you tell me you will."
"So he's the one behind it again," Raoul called. "I knew it. You want to go away with him, don't you? You want to leave the children and me alone!"
"No!" I cried. "I'd never do that!" It was true that it had crossed my mind briefly, but as I had heard Erik call that he'd be leaving, I had understood that it was not what he wanted. That was when I had started crying.
"Of course you'd do that," he gave back. "It's what you're planning. You've just said it yourself."
"I said I don't want to be with you anymore," I stressed. "It has nothing to do with the children. They'll stay with me."
"And I won't be allowed to see them anymore!" he howled. "They're my children as well, and – "
"You will see them," I corrected him. "Of course you will. You're their father, and you always will be. You'll be able to visit them whenever you want. Besides… perhaps we won't be separated forever."
If possible, the expression on Raoul's face grew even more puzzled.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.
"If you had let me finish speaking before, I'd have told you," I replied pointedly. "I don't want to be with you… for a while. I just… I just want a little time to think everything over."
"But you could also do that without leaving me," he argued eagerly. "I'll give you all the time you need."
He took my hand again, but I snatched it out of his grasp almost immediately.
"You don't understand," I muttered. "I need time to be completely alone. It would be pointless if you were standing in the background, waiting for me to be finished. If anything, if would influence my decision against you."
At last, comprehension seemed to dawn on him. It was not a pretty sight. He looked deeply hurt, as if someone had just thrust a knife into his heart. And that someone was me.
"I understand," he brought out with great difficulty. "If I agree now, I have at least a chance that you'll decide to be with me in the end."
I nodded.
"It's the only way I can think of," I told him gently. "Perhaps it won't take me that long after all. A couple of weeks, and I'll be back at your side."
"Or maybe not," he mumbled. Straightening up, he then changed the subject quickly. "So, have you thought about how to do it?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Not really," I replied honestly. "I haven't planned anything yet." I didn't want him to think that I had had the idea of leaving him a while ago, when in truth it had only just appeared in my head. "I guess it also depends on what is happening with our house," I added.
"I don't think anyone is going to live there for a few months," Raoul said pensively. "Even if the walls haven't been damaged badly enough for the whole house to need rebuilding, a lot of redecoration and cleaning will have to be done. It could take a while. I thought about renting a house for us, but…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but I understood him anyway. I didn't need a reminder of how my revelation had destroyed his plans. I could imagine it very well.
"We'll have to find two separate places then," I muttered.
Raoul inhaled sharply.
"What will everyone think of us?" he exclaimed.
I threw him a sideways glance. I didn't care what ´everyone´ thought of us. There were far more important things.
"I know, I know, it shouldn't matter to me," he acknowledged, interpreting my glance correctly. "But you mustn't forget that our family is rather famous in Paris, at least in certain circles of society. What will everyone think of us if they hear you've left me? We both know how vicious gossip can be, don't we? The most dreadful rumours could come up if people find out about us. Wives don't leave their husbands unless they have very good reasons. They'll think that I've hit you… or that I've done something to the children! Oh God…"
A dry sob escaped his mouth, and he buried his face in his hands.
Now I was the one who inhaled sharply. I had to admit that I hadn't considered such things at all. In the little time since I had made my decision, I had only thought about how to tell Raoul and what his reaction might be. I hadn't taken one moment to think about other people.
And then another thought, one that was just as terrible, hit me: What if people thought it had something to do with Erik? Perhaps one of our neighbours had seen him after all and would tell someone else about him once the story of me leaving my husband got out. Perhaps that someone would see the connection between the mysterious stranger and the Phantom of the Opera and would realise that they were one and the same person. I still felt sick every time I thought about the gossip that had spread all over the city after the first night of ´Don Juan Triumphant´, and I had no desire to have any more of it.
But how could it be avoided? Raoul and I could hardly live separate lives without anyone noticing it. What we needed was a good excuse. Suddenly I recalled what Larisse had said about the location of Meg's house and how difficult it would be for her to get to her husband every evening. An idea began to form in my head. It was a strange idea, but it could work.
"I think I have a plan," I started cautiously.
Raoul lifted his head slightly.
"We could tell everyone that you'll rent a flat in the centre of the city because it's closest to all your business partners. But unfortunately, the children and I won't be able to come with you because… because I have to stay here with Meg and care for our injured servants when they'll be released from the hospital. People would believe it at least for a few weeks, maybe longer. And afterwards, we'll still be able to think of something else."
"I think it might work," he said slowly. "Yes, we'll do it… if that's what you want." He threw me a questioning, almost pleading glance.
"Yes, it is," I replied firmly.
Raoul gave another sob.
"I'll miss you so much, Christine," he whispered.
Hearing him sound that desperate made my heart ache.
"I'll miss you, too," I gave back. "But it has to be done."
He looked at me, his beautiful eyes filled with tears. Without thinking about what I was doing, I leaned over and kissed his foreheard. Then my lips descended upon his. He responded instantly, and I could feel myself losing control over the situation. His smell and his touch were so familiar.
"This doesn't change anything," I breathed as he pulled me to my feet and led me to the sofa in the library. "Just one more time…"
"One more time," Raoul echoed, starting to unbutton my dress.