TITANIC ROSE
Chapter Forty

March 1918

"And how are you feeling today, Mr. Dawson?" Sister Nora took Thomas’s wheelchair and pushed him over near a window. In spite of the fact that it was not yet spring, there had been a few bright, sunny days, and today was one.

Thomas just grunted, not saying anything. His memory was beginning to return, and one of the latest things he had remembered was that his last name wasn’t really Dawson. That was his wife’s maiden name and stage name. But along with the return of his memory of his real last name—Calvert—had come the memory of who his wife and family were—and he was afraid that if he gave his real name, someone would contact them and tell them where he was and what had happened to him.

He still hadn’t come to terms with the loss of his leg. It was still painful, and no amount of exercise or treatment would ever make it completely better. He would never be able to walk the way he had before, even though the doctors had assured him that there were very good prosthetic devices that would enable him to walk again.

He had been assured that by the time he was fully healed he wouldn’t even need crutches, let alone the wheelchair, but he found it hard to believe. He couldn’t even move the wheelchair around very well, though Sister Nora had exasperatedly informed him that if he practiced, he would be able to get around as well as any of the other men who had been there for a while.

But he didn’t really want to try. Trying meant getting better, and eventually facing the reality of his life at home. He couldn’t face the possibility of rejection.

Try as he might to suppress the thoughts, he feared that Rose would reject him now that he was no longer whole and healthy. She was a beautiful, successful moving picture actress. She could have any man she wanted. Why would she want a man who was a cripple, who would never look completely normal or walk normally?

The logical part of his mind told him that he was being ridiculous. Rose wouldn’t reject him just because he had been injured; she’d been through too much and seen too much to do that. She loved him and was devoted to him.

But another part didn’t believe it. He loved Rose more than he could say, but deep inside, he found it hard to believe that she could continue to return his love after what had happened, after he had been gone so long and been injured so badly. He hadn’t even remembered who she was until recently.

And that was the crux of the matter. A part of him couldn’t believe that Rose would still love and care for him even after he had forgotten who she was, who their children were, even who he was himself. And if he continued to let the doctors and nurses think that he didn’t remember who he was, he would never be sent home to face her.

More than anything, he feared her rejection. As much as he loved her, he couldn’t face that thought. It was better if he never returned, if she never knew what had happened to him. He had been a lawyer before the war, and he knew that he would eventually be declared dead, leaving her free to marry someone else.

He didn’t want to lose her, didn’t want to give her up, but he felt that it was inevitable, and if she never found out what had happened to him, then he would never know whether she would have rejected him or not. Much as he hated the thought of never seeing her again, it was better than losing her after he had had a chance to reunite with her and fully remember how much he loved her.

Chapter Forty-One
Stories