Eight weeks passed so quickly it was unreal. There were only two weeks left before Rose finished her picture. Jack would be going home to New York soon. He had put off the trip for as long as he could, knowing he couldn’t afford to stay in Los Angeles for much longer. Rose was contracted for two more pictures in Los Angeles.
The days were like heaven on earth for both Jack and Rose. Everything was perfect. They saw each other as often as they could. It was almost a dream. The relationship between Jack and Rose had not been intimate. They had shared a few passionate kisses, knowing how much they loved each other.
Over the last few weeks, neither Jack nor Rose had dared to mention that their time together would come to an end. It was a fact neither of them wanted to face, or not yet, at least. Everything was perfect. They hadn’t spoken about what they would do after Jack returned to New York, knowing that it was something that neither of them were looking forward to, although they knew that at some point they would have to discuss it.
*****
Rose fumbled with her keys when she heard a quiet knock on the door. Her heart beat wildly, for she knew who it was.
“Are you ready, Rose?” He smiled and motioned with his head toward the street.
Rose nodded and took one hesitant step towards him. She gasped, observing helplessly as Jack lifted her arm, bringing her hand to his face, and kissed it softly. She shivered, closing her eyes briefly at the electricity that his presence brought.
“You look fabulous, Rose.” He let her hand go and ran his eyes over her. She wore a silk dress embroidered with crystal beads. It fell to just below her knees. Her hair was partially swept back, away from her eyes, and she wore a set of pearl earrings.
“Thank you.” She whispered this, joining him to walk toward the street. He was near her, the heat from his body only inches away. Rose immediately felt that she was exactly where she should be. He was so safe and so warm, his tanned face glowing in the dusk of the sky. He hadn’t changed, not one bit, in all of these years, and he still had the same power over her he had had before.
She felt a wave of energy and joy spread through her body, and very abruptly she felt free and alive. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since she was seventeen.
“I wanted to take you someplace nice tonight.” He smiled at her. He silently reached for her hand and slipped his fingers between hers as though it was the most natural thing.
“Where are we going?” she asked. She sun was setting. Beneath the beautiful colors, she appeared to be an angel.
“Oh, just a little place I found. They had a lot of artists’ work on their walls. I checked it out the other day and it’s perfect,” he told her.
Rose studied him as he talked excitedly. "Is that it right up there?" Rose pointed eagerly to a small, narrow building up the street. Music was pouring from a set of open doors. Jack laughed gently and nodded, noticing her sudden enthusiasm.
Rose laughed and looked around as she entered, her nose and ears adjusting to the place. It was rather dark, but the din of voices and the sizzling of food seemed inviting. Jack joined her, his hand grazing her back slightly as he motioned for her to step up to the podium, where he promptly informed the host of their arrival. He seemed surprised that they were led to their seats so quickly.
They were seated near the back at a cozy table for two. The walls themselves, she noticed, were a bright shade of purple. She stretched her neck to study the paintings that adorned the walls. “Wow.” She raised her eyebrows before turning back to Jack, seeing his face looking awestruck. She loved how passionate he was about art and how much they shared an interest in the subject. “What sort of art do you have in your gallery?”
“Subtle. That’s why I like Monet. He paints from his heart.” He rested his chin in his hands and let his eyes roam freely. Rose sighed, completely content to be drowning in the sight of his face and in his words.
Jack shook his head and bit his lip. “I think you were my best subject, Rose.” He grinned vibrantly and studied her.
Rose looked flustered. Inside, she wanted to scream excitedly. She wanted to tell this man that no one had ever told her something like that. She blushed a little, remembering the night he had drawn her naked.
She picked up the menu, anything to stop herself from looking into his eyes and letting the memories come over her again.
*****
Two hours later, they were finishing the dessert that Jack had ordered. Rose twirled her spoon around once, laying it down gently. She sighed, looking up at Jack. The dinner had gone by so quickly, and as the time had progressed, it seemed that they found more and more to talk about, just like they had years before aboard the Titanic. Now she found her heart falling at the prospect of this wonderful evening and their time together coming to an end.
Jack saw her hands fidgeting with the beads on her dress. Was she still nervous? What was on her mind?
“You all right?” he asked her.
She nodded just once before looking back up at him. He could see tears forming in her eyes. She knew she would have to do everything she could not to cry here.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Jack stood and motioned for her to walk in front of him. Rose grabbed his hand as she headed for the door. She squeezed through the mass of people.
Frustrated that he had nothing with him with which to keep her warm, his hands fidgeted and twisted behind his back. At a loss for what to do, he gave in to what came naturally. He slowly slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently toward him.
“It gets chilly once that sun goes down.” Jack spoke in almost a whisper. It was quiet on the street now. Rose noticed that they were heading in the direction of her rented accommodation.
“You don’t have to walk me home.” She smiled, knowing he wouldn’t let her walk alone.
He said nothing, but shook his head and pulled her closer to him.
As they reached her door, she wrung her hands. It was almost like a first date.
Jack gently turned Rose so that she faced him. He looked deeply into her eyes. “Rose, I don’t know what to say…”
She lowered her lashes, staring at her feet. She was avoiding eye contact, knowing that simply by looking at him, she was falling more in love with him. She felt the contact of his lips and welcomed his mouth against hers. At first the pressure was gentle—tender, almost. But then the intensity increased. Something was happening that he could not yet define. He could feel her rapid breathing as he held her in his arms.
“I love you,” he whispered to her. She felt a single tear run down her face and smiled.