HEARTS CAN BREAK
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rose woke but didn’t open her
eyes because she was terrified. She was absolutely terrified that she would be
alone again, and at the same time terrified he would be with her. There was no
sign of life about her except for the gentle increments of her chest rising and
falling as her lungs filled and emptied, like her life, being filled and
emptied.
She could feel something on her
neck, something warm and sweet and light and moist, and she trembled inside
when she realized it was someone breathing on her. It was a miracle that
someone was breathing on her, breathing air into a body that had forgotten how
to breathe.
She couldn’t stand the complete
gnawing at her heart that told her that something enormous had just impacted
her. She tried to ignore it, tried to think that she was still Rose DeWitt
Bukater, soon to be Rose Hockley. But she didn’t want to be that Rose, either.
So she tried to pretend she didn’t exist.
Rose Dawson...
That was the Rose she wanted to
be. Before she could stop herself, her eyes fluttered open, pools of creamy
magnolia leaves and freezing sea colliding with the dream in front of her.
He was still there.
It was impossible, but he was
still there. His lumpy, off-white, worn shirt was within reach and his streaked
golden hair dangled inches from her face. His eyelids were closed as if he were
praying. She prayed, too, prayed for God to show her whether this was a
nightmare or a blessed reality.
Suddenly, Jack felt a stare
pierce his skin and he started, only to see Rose staring back at him. Lover’s
gazes met and wove together, piecing a tale of screams and tears and hate and
heaven and hell together like a needle sewing a quilt with patches of pain. A
shriek erupted silently inside both of them, reinforcing the thread that held
them together, the thread of passion and complete devotion.
Rose shivered as he cautiously
took her hand in his, eyes never leaving her own, piercing her with a gaze that
was frantically trying to reassure her that everything was all right,
desperately trying to feel the same girl he had felt before. A single drop of
murdered rain slipped from the corner of her eye and fell on her neck as she
took in the texture of his hand again. Slowly, nervously, one of her slender
fingers caressed his palm, feeling the rough corners and trembling at their
soft touch. These were the fingers of an artist of life, one who saw truth and
beauty in everything and everyone, and one who saw his soulmate in her.
Ever so gradually, actuality sunk
into her skin, and she began to slowly awake to the fact that he was real, that
he was not a ghost, and that she wasn’t dreaming. Her tongue clumsily formed
her words. "Jack...oh, my God..."
He knew she finally recognized
him to be alive, to be hers, and to be the same as he had been. For a moment
they stared at each other, shocked to the point of breathlessness and
spellbound, emotions and sentences whirling in their heads but never making it
on their lips.
Suddenly, Rose collapsed into his
arms, sinking to the cobbled sidewalk with him, weeping so hard that she
couldn’t draw breath, and everything either one had ever wanted to say spilled
out in that one action. They transferred to each other their relief, their
fear, and the absolute rediscovery of life in their souls. There was no need
for words; there was no capability for words; no want for words. They sunk
against the leg of the bench, Rose pressed against Jack’s chest, Jack holding
her and rocking her until both of their hearts broke and became one with the
other all over again.
They had reunited. It was
impossible, and they both knew it. There was so much horror in their stories
that they were forced to bear it together, as a single being.
Jack was being tormented by
something that he had never said to her. It was almost too early to say it, but
at the same time it seemed many lifetimes too late. His heart rate accelerated
until it nearly burst its seams. Looking at this angel again made everything
completely unrealistic, so he didn’t care. Finally, his mouth shaped the first
word in his mentally put together speech. But the speech didn’t last long. He
just started saying everything that he had felt for the past few days, the
complete torture and agony, his throat barely making more than a husky murmur
into her wild hair.
"Oh, God, Rose...oh, my God.
I’m so sorry...oh, my God...I...it all hurt so bad, I couldn’t even come to
grips with the fact that you weren’t there anymore, and that made it hurt
worse, and everything was so black, and I was always so cold, and I wanted to
kill myself because I thought you would forever be cold, and damn it all, I
didn’t tell you when I had the chance, so I have to tell you now, and I’m sorry
this doesn’t sound perfect, but–" He paused suddenly, the frantic tone in
his voice ceasing, and she looked up into his eyes, terrified that what he was
going to say would be little more than salt to her wounds.
Swallowing hard, he finished in a
shaky whisper, "I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than the
air I breathe and the world I live in and nothing, I mean nothing, will ever,
ever change that. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. You’re beautiful,
so beautiful, and I’m so sorry for everything, and even if you can’t forgive
me, I want you to know that I love you."
Something inside of Rose cracked,
and she cried harder with relief, because she realized something. No matter how
much it hurt, no matter how many torturous days or months or years she had been
through, even hell couldn’t change the face that she was Jack’s Rose.
Scared to death, terrified beyond
recognition that she would turn him away, he leaned closer to her, drawn like a
moth to a flame, except this flame would surely burn this moth.
Before he could stop himself, his
lips impacted with hers, and they were both thrown into the wild whirlwind of emotions
that one calls love and grief, pain and eternal agony evaporating, sweet sighs
of passion whispering from their mouths. Rose almost pushed him away on
instinct, but all instincts suddenly vanished and she threw her arms around his
neck, leaning back against the wood of the bench, praying to God that this
would never end, but that the torment and cruelty of her life was. She couldn’t
understand the transformations that had taken place inside of her so quickly,
but she thanked the celestial beings that it had, because now she finally knew
what it was like to live and die for someone, to love someone so much that her
heart broke and she didn’t care, all she cared for was him.
In that second, even though the
two lovers were without a home, without a plan, without a thought, they were
happy, finally, finally happy. For they had finally discovered the true meaning
of the overused word love. It was not as simple as it sounded. It was the
presence of an actual existence inside of each of them, tying them together so
they could feel what the other felt, know what the other knew. It was the deep
bond that connected them between their two times and places and reunited them
by a chance of fate and maybe, just maybe, their destinies were one.
Silently, hundreds of miles away,
beneath a sea so dark with blood that the sky reflected it, the people of the
abyss applauded for the lost who had actually survived. The sound swirled into
the heavens and was lost amongst the peace of a titan.
The End.