I HAVE NOTHING
Chapter Nine

The Eyes of Love

They were blue, like the sea in the summer. That was what Jack’s eyes were like. And that was the way Rose saw them when she opened hers—his eyes were over hers, just a few centimeters away from hers, those two blue eyes like the sea, shining like two stars full of wishes. Jack’s look made her feel naked and radiant, like that time in her Titanic stateroom. And like that time, the rest of the world didn’t matter.

"Jack…it’s you…you’re…you’re alive?"

Rose caressed his face, verifying that he was real, and that all that she was seeing was not just another dream where she was going to wake up. If it was, she just wanted to die in that moment, with Jack’s breath on her face and his eyes looking at her with an infinite tenderness. But she wasn’t dreaming, Jack was real, and he was really there, near her, caressing her hair and singing that song that he had sung when he had made her fly above the ocean.

He had his arm around her waist, as secure as when he had held her in the ocean, but this time, the drops on her face weren’t the sea’s. They were tears. Jack was crying.

"Don’t jump without me, Rose."

"Never, my love. Never!"

They kissed passionately, almost with pain, until they almost died with desire. They kissed with all their hearts, letting the miracle of the encounter erase the time and the space. There was nothing around them. The clocks stopped. Only their lips were one with each other, above life and death, past and future. The world stopped in that instant. They were together. They were on the deck of the Titanic, in Rose’s stateroom, inside of a car, floating in the water, in Paris, in a church full of people. They were nowhere and everywhere, surrounded by a love that made their bodies melt inside, making them almost invisible. They kissed and looked at each other. They laughed, and they kissed again. Rose touched Jack’s face. He hugged her. They cried and kissed again. They were alive. They were together.

At the altar there was no one left. Vincent and the priest had joined the others, looking at the scene and not knowing what to say or do. Some voices asked for explanations. The DeRouche family and their guests were scandalized, but the captain was calm. He was the only one who knew what was happening. A gentleman knew how to accept defeat, and he knew that he couldn’t compete with Jack’s love, that he couldn’t retain her.

Rose looked at him with good-bye eyes, and he accepted that good-bye without demanding anything else. He watched them walking towards the door, and, for a second, he was glad for what he had seen. He was glad for their encounter—it was the irrefutable prove that eternal love was real.

Jack and Rose left behind them a shine of emotion that no one dared to stop. All the guests were quiet while they were walking back down the aisle, hand-in-hand. They walked in silence, losing themselves in Paris’ rues. They walked across the river’s bridge, guided by the moon that seemed to have come out just for them.

They had a million things to tell to each other, but in that moment the words weren’t needed. It was like the strolling musicians were playing just for them. The sky was not a sky anymore—it was a big crystal cupola. The statues on the bridge were passengers well-dressed and dancing. And the stairs weren’t made from stone. They were wooden. All the splendor of the Titanic was there around them, protecting their love and transporting them across an ocean of dreams, hopes, and illusions. Jack and Rose sailed like that all night, making every moment count.

Some people, seeing Rose in a wedding dress, stopped them and congratulated them, increasing their laughter and their complicity. They looked happily at each other and kissed between the claps of the people. Yes, this was really the happiest day of their lives. Lives that had just begun, full of love and freedom. Nobody was looking for them. Nothing was pulling them apart.

"I still have nothing to offer you, Rose."

"You are all I want, Jack."

"Do you trust me?"

"I trust you."

The sat on a bench and talked. Rose was not able to contain her tears when she told Jack that she had let go of his hand because she had thought he was dead, that she had seen how he sank into the water, that she had swam through the water to reach the officer’s whistle, that she had changed her name to start a new life, that she had thought he was dead, and that she hadn’t stopped loving him.

"You didn’t surrender, Rose, and that’s what counts. You did what you should have—survive and never surrender."

"I kept my promise…"

"Yes, and now I’ll keep mine."

"Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do?"

"Write a claim letter to the White Star Line!"

They both laughed. Jack’s face approached Rose’s, and he kissed her lips without closing his eyes. He wanted to see her. She, and no other. Every day, every night, for the rest of his life.

He was still looking at her when the first sunshine entered the attic’s window, drawing hearts of light between the sheets and their bodies.

The End.

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