That Night

Rose walked back to her stateroom with her husband. She had thought that she would be with Jack. How could Jack have spent nine years looking for her and not love her? She had to believe that Jack loved her. She was tired of being with James. "James, I’m going out on deck."

"Okay, dear. Come in and get a coat," James said. He knew that Rose was sad, but she’d get over it. He had Jack’s promise, and Jack seemed to be a man of his word.

"Yes. I suppose I should." Rose entered the room, and sat on the bed for a second. She couldn’t focus her thoughts. James turned on the lights and went in the bathroom. Rose’s eyes wandered over the room. For some reason, her eyes kept coming back to the garbage can. There seemed to be an unopened envelope in the trash. Rose looked at the bathroom door, and then slowly got up. She reached into the trash and picked up the envelope. Her name was on it. She quickly put it in her pocket, and got her coat. "I’m going out, James. I’ll be back later."

"Bye, love. I’ll wait up for you."

Rose hurried out to the promenade. She found a chair to sit in, and took the note out of her pocket. She read it slowly, and then read it again.

Rose, I never believed you died that night. I am thankful you found happiness. I will always love you. I’ll be able to go on knowing that you are happy. If, at any time, you need me, send a letter to this address: P.O. Box 143, New York, NY. Jack Dawson. Rose started crying. She wasn’t really happy. She was tired of pretending. She hadn’t even realized she had been. Not until she looked into Jack’s eyes again. She had to find Jack, make him understand that only he could make her happy. Rose got up, and walked to the third class area.

*****

Jack was lying on a bench under the stars, the past few days going through his mind. The conversation with Molly was replaying itself over and over. Was he right to think that Rose was happy? Should he really believe James? Who should he listen to? His heart? He heard footsteps, and glanced at the deck. Someone was coming over to him. He sat up and saw it was Rose. His heart leapt, and he smiled. She came over and sat next to him. They both felt frozen in place. Neither could say anything. "Mister Dawson," Rose said.

"Mrs. Calvert."

"Oh, Jack, please don’t call me that." Rose smiled.

"Rose, then?"

"I’ll always be your Rose, Jack. How could I pretend otherwise? When this ship docks, I’m getting off with you." The last time Rose said that came to both their minds.

"That doesn’t make any sense, Rose. Your husband…"

Rose stopped him with a kiss. It was the first time they had kissed in nine years, and all the pent-up passion and love was in that one kiss. Rose couldn’t stop the kiss. Jack was lost. The kiss seemed to last an eternity. Rose had to pull back. The one kiss could lead somewhere it shouldn’t. At least, not out on deck. "My husband is a fool, Jack. I never loved him. I can only be happy with you, Jack. Take me to Paris with you."

"Rose, this is crazy." Jack couldn’t let her go. She laid her hand on his shoulder, and looked him in the eyes.

"No. What’s crazy is that we aren’t together. It must have been fate that put us both on this ship. And it’s fate that we be together. I love you, Jack."

"I love you, Rose."