Looking out into the cheering audience, Rose Dawson took a final bow, a smile lighting up her face. Tonight was the first night she was playing Ophelia in Hamlet. She had been a regular actress at the Hippodrome since August of 1917. When she was onstage, she felt alive and free and she relished the idea of being someone else, even if only for a short period of time. She had been called talented, but that was something she doubted. She just loved the way that being someone else made her feel. She felt so far away from herself, something that made her happy. Playing characters in love had always been something that she had a soft spot for. She could identify with their heartbreak.
Jack clapped as hard as he could as he sat in the audience, proud of his Rose. Her smiling face was enough to light up the entire Hippodrome. There had been a good turnout tonight, and the cheers were loud. His attention had been on Rose the entire way through the play; she was enormously talented and had recited all of her lines perfectly. His heart beat faster than ever in his life as he settled himself into the chair. It was really her on the stage. The way she spoke her lines was poetic and flowing. He had had no idea she had this talent. His eyes never left Rose as she was on the stage; she lit the entire room and once again melted his heart.
*****
Removing the pins from her hair, Rose Dawson gazed at her reflection in her dressing room mirror. Tonight had been a success. She felt she had performed to the best of her ability and the Hippodrome had been absolutely packed. A smile appeared on her face. Outwardly, she had changed a little. Her hair was now dyed blonde and had been cut to chin length, something that Rose had found drastic but a necessary action as she had become an actress. Removing Ophelia’s clothing, Rose dressed herself in a red evening gown. She found her pearl necklace and earrings and applied a layer of dark red lipstick. She was meeting the cast for drinks downtown in a little while to celebrate the success of the production. Looking at her appearance, Rose felt satisfied.
A quiet knock on the door of her dressing room startled Rose slightly. She called to the visitor to enter. Finding her perfume, she squeezed a small amount onto her wrists before turning to see who was at the door. At that moment, the dressing room door burst open and Jack entered with a large bouquet of roses. Her heart leaped when she saw who it was.
“You were wonderful tonight, darling.” He kissed her cheek and she accepted the roses, putting them on her dressing table.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you came.”
Rose’s hand linked with Jack’s and their faces were just an inch apart. She could remember the power he had over her, the power that made her feel weak and like they were the only two people in the world. She felt on top of the world tonight. Having Jack here meant the world to her.
“You know I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He spoke softly and directly to her. She wondered for a moment if he was going to kiss her, but he backed away slowly.
He sat on the couch in the center of the small dressing room. Rose sat at her vanity. She removed a few pins from her hair, allowing wisps to fall freely around her face. Jack could see her reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met. She looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. She could feel the tension between them and wondered if he could feel it, too.
“I feel so alive when I am onstage, you know,” she spoke excitedly. Sitting on the stool, she crossed her legs. “I never thought you would be here to witness this.”
“Neither did I, Rose. You were everything I knew you would be up there. I am so proud of you.”
His words meant so much more than having thousands of people applaud her. It was much more personal. She knew that he meant it. The smile on her face faded. She realized he wouldn’t be there to witness her next performance.
“When must you leave?” She broke the silence. She turned on her stool and put her hands in her lap.
Jack leaned forward on the sofa, wringing his hands for a moment. He was hesitant, not exactly knowing the answer to the question. Jack pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows.
“One of us had to ask the question, Jack.” She sensed his hesitance.
“I honestly don’t know.” He sighed. “I came here with a job to do, but now I’m not even sure I have done that right.”
Rose was puzzled. “You did a wonderful job…”
“No, Rose.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the fact that you were sitting there in front of me.”
Her heart pounded. She didn’t understand what he was trying to say. Silence fell between them and they did nothing but stare at each other in a daze.
Jack wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her; he had spent the last few days playing memories of them both in his head, which had reduced him to tears, the pain still very much fresh.
“Jack...” Rose spoke, but simply did not know what to say. She shifted her eyes about the room, but nothing could divert her mind from the current situation.
“Rose, why couldn’t we find each other?” he asked, his voice was soft and gentle. Rose closed her eyes and thought of an answer.
“Jack, I…I don’t know what to say. I loved you so much…” Rose stuttered. She couldn’t deny him anything now. She had to be honest. She knew how much the last eight years had hurt.
Jack got his feet. He wiped his eyes and inched closer to Rose, his eyes never leaving hers. “I loved you, Rose, and I love you still,” he whispered.
Rose’s heart rose at his words. She felt tears pricking her eyes. She broke eye contact with him; she was simply stunned, and could not think of a reply. She turned to her vanity and began to brush her hair, anything to distract her from seeing the hurt in his face.
“The war taught me not to waste time now, to make life count more than ever. I’ve had men die in my arms, Rose. Men younger than me with children and wives.” Jack’s voice cracked and he openly wept.
Rose didn’t know what to do, whether to comfort him or not. Or even how to comfort him. He wiped his eyes and came closer to her, so close their faces were just a few inches apart. “I still love you, Rose…”
She felt his hands reach downwards and touch hers. She closed her eyes. A tear slowly made its way down her porcelain face. “I love you, too.”
Silence fell over them again, and they felt were the only two people in the world. Shakily, Jack touched Rose’s cheek. Their eyes never left each other’s.
Rose couldn’t deny how she felt anymore. For years, she had denied she had feelings for the man in front of her.
The power Rose had over Jack was indescribable; she was the most perfect thing he had ever laid eyes on. He touched her soft cheek, and before long the passion he had in him for her took over. He kissed her mouth forcefully.
She returned his kiss, more passionately than she had ever kissed him before. The moment was what Jack had been longing and waiting for. It felt natural, as though they were only meant to kiss each other. Jack kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and then her lips again. Rose’s hands ran through Jack’s hair and she moaned slightly, remembering how good he made her feel.
He trailed kisses down her neck, and before they knew it, they lay in each other’s arms on the couch in her dressing room. They didn’t make love. They knew their relationship was so much more than that. She clung to him as though she never wanted him to leave, and the truth was that she didn’t. She didn’t know what this meant for them now.