I HAVE NOTHING
Chapter Seven

Forgiveness

Rose’s diamond wasn’t unnoticed. The bomb had exploded and all the journalists were publishing the mysterious Captain DeRouche’s fiancée’s photograph, with the beautiful jewel on her neck. Vincent didn’t ask for explanations, but Rose felt that she should tell him the truth—who she was, why she had that diamond, and why she had chosen to put it on that night.

She knew he would be hurt, but she couldn’t hide the most powerful part of her past—her love for Jack. The captain listened and tenderly caressed her cheek.

"You must have suffered a lot…"

And they never talked about that anymore.

War was still exploding in Europe, and in America, all the people followed anxiously the news of the continent. Ruth DeWitt Bukater also. She read all the newspapers that arrived at the little dress factory, especially the society pages. Maybe for pride, but she still felt like a part of it.

A lot of times she read news about people whom she had been near, at the same table, same hotel, or holiday. The wedding of a duchess, the death of a millionaire…

Imagining those weddings and those funerals was all she had of her past life. Losing her daughter had brought down all her future plans, leaving her completely alone and rejected by the ones who had, at one time, given her a hand. Cal, Rose’s ex-fiancé, had humiliated her cruelly.

"With Rose dead, there’s nothing forcing me to have pity on you."

He was right. Rose had been her only card. And she had lost her…that was the punishment for her pride and ambition. She hadn’t known how to love her daughter, and now it was too late.

Actually, having to earn her money as a seamstress didn’t bother her. It was just a way to wait for death with dignity. Her daughter was dead, and living had no meaning now…Ruth left the clothes she was working on to enjoy her minutes of reading and memories, but the muscles of her body stopped suddenly and the threads and fabrics she had nearly fell to the ground.

She sat in a chair, shaking, and took a deep breath before looking at the picture again—it was Rose! She was alive! Ruth almost couldn’t keep breathing. Her arms and legs didn’t respond. She couldn’t move. She just screamed silently as she put the paper close to her chest, as if it were a baby.

When she reacted, she almost swallowed the words printed, as though trying to memorize them. She had to go to Paris. She had to see Rose and tell her she was sorry for all the pain she had caused her. But her savings weren’t enough for such travel. She thought of Cal immediately. She would go to see him, and she would beg him. She would get down on her knees…now she need his money desperately, and she didn’t mind his superior look.

According to rumor, Cal and his associates had dinner every Friday at Garden’s Hall, the most luxurious restaurant on Fifth Avenue. It was the only place she could find him.

*****

A waiter opened the door of the restaurant. Her arrogance and her fine lady demeanor were still intact, so she didn’t have any problem moving amongst the proud faces of the clientele. She finally saw him. He hadn’t changed a bit. He still was the most elegant man she had ever seen, and she had seen quite a few. He was still the most arrogant of all.

"Ruth, what a…disquieting surprise. You’re the last person I would think of meeting here."

"I’ve come looking for you, Cal. I’m here to ask you a favor."

Cal took her arm roughly and led her to one of the private rooms.

"I think I made it very clear that you and I…"

He couldn’t keep speaking. Ruth took the newspaper and threw it in his face.

"I’ve come for this."

Cal’s face burned as he read the page, walking nervously across the room. Suddenly, he stopped. He looked at Ruth and tore the paper in his hands.

"This doesn’t mean anything now. For me, Rose is still dead. Your daughter is nothing but a slut, and you know it better than anyone."

She would have slapped him, but she couldn’t. She needed his money to go to Paris. She left her hatred behind and got down on her knees. She asked, she begged, but Cal’s eyes stayed cold.

"Stand up. You’re pathetic. You should be ashamed of your daughter instead of being humiliated over her."

Cal lit a cigarette and blew the smoke at the ceiling. He didn’t even look at her before he left the room.

*****

Ruth arrived home sobbing, and she couldn’t even hear the knocking on her door.

"Ruth! Ruth! Open up, please!"

The smiling, plump face of Molly Brown appeared behind the door. She had also had dinner at that restaurant that night. And she had heard the conversation between Cal and Ruth, and she had followed her home. She wanted to help her.

She took care of everything. And she was the one who, in Paris, went to the DeRouche manor to ask for Rose.

"I’m an old family friend."

The butler told her that Rose had kept working at the hospital, and that was where Molly saw the rebel girl she had met on the Titanic. Rose was glad to see her, too, and she hugged her close, but a wave of panic took all the happiness away when she looked at the door. Her mother was there, too.

"She just wants to apologize, dear," whispered Molly in her ear. "Just that."

Rose was in front of her mother, not moving. She didn’t know what to do. Love and resentment were fighting inside of her heart…suddenly, her mother’s head was on her chest. She was on her knees, crying like a little girl.

"Forgive me, Rose…forgive me. I was stupid, my love, a coward, a…" But she couldn’t continue, because Rose’s fingers were on her lips. Rose didn’t need anything else to know that Ruth’s repentance was real. She kissed her cheek and saw in her mother’s eyes the love that she had needed all those times. Really, the Titanic had changed everybody.

Chapter Eight
Stories