Evelyn Carradoc sighed with relief as the curtain descended on the first act of Le nozze di Figaro. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her elegant black velvet dress as she did so. Impatiently, she waited for the crowd to allow her to slip out of her row and into the foyer of the Metropolitan Opera. Any moment longer than necessary in this place was a moment too long. She hated opera, hated it with a passion. The only reason she had come to the performance was her position in New York society. Upper middle class by birth, her social standing had elevated to the upper echelon when she had married Archibald �Archie� Fletcher, a very prominent lawyer.
The day after her wedding, she knew it had been a mistake. Archie had married her for one reason only: he needed a trophy wife. Beguiling and romantic when they were dating, he had become a distant, thoughtless man. At their house, as in his office, his needs and desires came first for all. His role was to lavish gifts upon her and display her as a model wife. Her role was to be meek and docile as well as resembling a goddess. His life consisted of high profile cases, followed by extravagant evenings out and the occasional mistress. Hers consisted of luncheons, suppers and the trend of the moment among the wives of Archie�s fellow lawyers.
She dreamed of divorce but it was not a viable option. Upon her marriage, Archie had taken control of all her monetary assets so that, in his words, �You won�t have to worry about a single thing. It�ll be taken care of.� She had married right of high school. She had never held a job or gained any kind of useful work experience. She was trapped in a hell of fashion and flighty conversation and never-ending dullness.
A few weeks ago, the darkness was pierced with a ray of light. She had met Someone. This man was intelligent, kind, thoughtful � everything she had hoped for in a man. Their engaging conversation had quickly turned into something more. She nearly forgot the tedium of her life while she planned and enjoyed liaisons with her newfound lover. If all went according to plan, she would skip the second act of the opera in favor of passionate embraces.
Making excuses to her �friends�, she stole away up the stairs and onto the second floor of the lobby. Finding a secluded corner, she made it her post. In an air of nonchalance, she turned her back and placed one hand on the railing. She turned her head so she could see the entrance into the opera house. In a little while, her Someone would be here. In just a little while�
This piece was written in response to a challenge by Manon.
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