ONLY HALF THE MAN I USED TO BE
Chapter Twelve

Rose and Jack were sitting, looking out onto the ocean. There were now only a few hours left until they reached land.

"Rose," a voice behind them said. It was him again. Cal.

"Can’t you learn when to leave a lady alone?" Jack asked him sharply.

"I don’t believe I was talking to you," he said. "Rose, it’s about your mother."

"What about my mother?" she asked sharply. Rose might now hate Cal; in fact; she always had. She might have disliked, even hated her mother at times, as well, but that didn’t stop her from being her mother. Rose still cared.

"She’s been taken ill," he replied, forcing a pained look across his face.

"How ill?" Rose asked worriedly.

"She doesn’t look it, but the doctor said it could be only days," he said.

"Oh, Lord," Rose whispered. Jack could see the scared look on her pale face. He knew that she couldn’t stand Cal, or he hoped so, anyway. But her mother could never stop being her mother, whatever happened.

"So, I just thought I’d tell you. You may go and see her if you want, but I wouldn’t say anything. It may upset her," Cal said.

"All right," Rose said.

"Come along, then, Rose," he said, holding out his arm.

"Oh, no. You must have misunderstood," Rose said simply. "I said I was going to see my mother, not that I was going with you. You may leave now, Mr. Hockley."

Cal gave her an evil look and wandered off.

"Jack, I hope you don’t mind. It’s just that…I mean, if she is…and she never stopped being my mother," Rose said.

"Listen, Rose. It’s okay," Jack said. "You go and see your mother. I’ll be all right, as long as you come back to me after."

"Of course I will," she promised. "See you later," she said, kissing him quickly.

"Bye, Rose," he said.

Cal watched from first class, an evil smirk spreading across his face. There was no way she could get away now.

*****

Rose found her mother taking a walk on the deck with the countess.

"Mother," Rose said sadly.

"Rose!" her mother cried, and embraced her. "I thought I’d lost you," she said. Rose hoped for a moment that her mother might have changed, but as soon as the countess left, she whispered to Rose in hushed, angry tones. "How dare you leave me, Rose? You have a duty to me, to the family name."

"Mother, I don’t care," Rose said. "I love Jack, whatever you say."

"You don’t," her mother said, in denial. "Cal is a great match."

"Cal is a bastard," she whispered.

"Rose, that language is unacceptable," her mother said.

Rose forgot her fury as she remembered why she was actually there.

"So…are you all right today?" she asked carefully.

"Fine. Just fine," she said. "I’ll feel better when I know you’re back with us."

"Mother, just because…" Rose started. She didn’t want to say the words ‘you’re dying’, so she just left a space. "You can’t make me come back."

"Rose, believe me, when you get off this ship, it will not be with him. He has nothing to offer you, no hope for the future," her mother said.

"He has love, Mother," Rose said. "And that is all I need."

"So, love is going to pay for food and clothes?" her mother asked. "He can’t work now. Cal has informed me about his arm."

"And I bet you’re happy," Rose said angrily.

After a silence, Rose spoke again. She really didn’t want her last memories of her mother to be arguments.

"So, have you thought about what’s going to happen when it happens?" Rose asked sadly.

"What on earth are you talking about, Rose?" her mother asked.

"You’re ill, Mother. You’ve got to face this," Rose said, tears springing to her eyes.

"I am most certainly not ill. Where did you hear this rubbish?" her mother asked.

"Don’t be silly, Mother. Cal told me everything," Rose said, angry that her mother could still be lying to her, but sad at how scared she must be to keep pretending. "I know you’re dying, Mother," she added, in barely a whisper.

"Pardon?" her mother asked.

Rose took a deep breath and cleared her head before carrying on. God, she needed Jack right now. He would know how to help her. "Cal told me this morning about the doctor. He said you only have a little while left," she said, surprisingly calm. "He’s told me everything, Mother. Don’t hide from it anymore."

"I don’t know what kind of joke this is, Rose, but it certainly isn’t funny," her mother said.

"But he told me you were dying," Rose said.

"Why ever would he say such a thing?" her mother asked. Rose could tell, at that moment, from the tone of her voice and the look on her face, that her mother had no idea what was going on, and was most certainly not dying.

"You’re…you’re not, are you?" Rose asked, angry with herself for her gullible stupidity, and angrier with Cal. How low was this man going to sink to try to get her back. She felt sick to her stomach as she thought about the last hour. She had believed that her mother only had days to live, all so her ex-fiancé could try to win her back. How the hell did he think that would work? She felt dizzy and pale as she stood in front of her mother, who was quite obviously fit and healthy. She had felt so terrible when Cal had told her, she felt almost guilty, but she didn’t know why, and now she had found out that all those feelings had been part of a cruel plan by a cold-hearted man to try to win her back. What kind of sanity did he have if he thought telling her that her mother was dying would make her go back to him? Her head swam with anger, confusion, and deep, deep hatred.

"No," her mother said truthfully. Rose turned her back and ran, ran to find Cal as soon as she possibly could.

Chapter Thirteen
Stories