It is the afternoon of the 15th of April 1912. Cal Hockley walked down the deck of the Carpathia searching the huddled mass of faces mourning for their lost loved ones.
"You won't find any of your people back here, sir. It's all steerage." A steward said. Cal ignored the man only searching for Rose. Cal moved around the recovered Titanic lifeboats and lifejackets tossed in a towering pile in the corner.
Cal turned as a dirt-covered man bumped into him. "Excuse me, sir." The man said as he moved around Cal to the corner helping women stand to her feet. Cal did not bother to wipe his tuxedo jacket clean. His mind was only on Rose.
Is she here? Is she here with Jack? Did she stay on the ship? Oh, god, is she dead? His thoughts spun with unanswered questions.
Rose watched Cal slowly circle around her. She tugged the blanket over her face, trying to hide from her ex-fiancé. Cal caught a glimpse of a piece of her fiery red hair. Rose turned away hoping to God he did not see her.
Cal felt himself become hopeful and stood in front of the women he so desperately hoped was his Rose. His jaw tightened as he reached out to place his index finger under her chin tilting her chin up to look at him.
The blanket that covered her head fell back. Cal took in her refuge appearance. Her beautiful dark red hair was matted against her porcelain beautiful face. Her eyes are heavy with fear, anger and exhaustion.
"Rose?" Was all he could manage to say. She did not respond. She just stared at him blankly and lost. Cal searched his surroundings for a moment then looked back down at Rose. "Where's Jack?" Rose's eyes welled with silent tears. Cal kicked himself again and sat beside her.
Rose surprised herself, let alone surprised Cal when her head rested on his shoulder, crying into his torn tuxedo coat. Cal hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders hugging her tightly. He closed his eyes with each harsh hitch of her breath as she sobbed against him.
After a few long minutes, Rose calmed herself and sat up. Cal quickly removed his arm from around her back and nervously held his hands on his lap. Rose wiped her fingers under her eyes feeling utterly embarrassed. They sat in a dead silence for a while only listening to the grieving cries of the Titanic survivors surrounding them.
"I'm sorry," his voice is barely audible. Rose looked at him with an unreadable expression. Cal met her eyes and tried to find the words, "For your loss." He noticed she didn't try to interrupt him. He continued, "I—I know I have no right to talk to you, let alone ask for your forgiveness…" Rose watched him with careful interest as he spoke with an uncharacteristic nervousness. "… The way I—my behaviour—I h—have no excuse." Cal shifted his eyes to the wooden floor panels unable to take her scrutinizing gaze. "I was afraid of losing you." He inwardly laughed at himself. "I lost you regardless if I ever had you at all in the first place."
Rose held up her hand for him to be quiet. Cal closed his mouth immediately. "W—when I look at you… I hate you." Her voice is hoarse, weak and hardly above a whisper. Cal felt as if was repeatedly stabbed in the chest. "When I think about you… I wish you died." Cal wrung his hands together forcing himself to settle the urge to get down to his knees and beg for forgiveness. "I don't forgive you."
Cal nodded, "I understand."
Rose looked at him for a long moment trying to figure him out. He seemed genuinely ashamed of himself. Good. She thought. Rose inwardly fought within herself and she felt a bit sympathetic towards the man she once called her fiancé. "… Not yet." She stared forward to the icebergs scattered out in the vast Atlantic Ocean.
Cal glanced at her with hopeful eyes. "I don't forgive you yet." she looked at him. "Give me time." Cal's mouth opened slightly in utter shock. Is she able to forgive me? Rose stared at him. "Please, give me time."
"Of course," he said quickly. A man who is so brilliant with words at any occasion was suddenly at a loss for them because more than anything, he feared she would change her mind.
They sat side by side for a long while without uttering a single word. "Your mother is very worried about you," Cal said.
"Not yet." she knew where he was heading with that. "I just need to… sit… here." Cal nodded following Rose's distance gaze upon the panicking steerage passengers looking for their loved ones in desperate pleas. The chaos seemed to move in a slow motion. Carpathian crew members collected life-vests and passed out hot cups of tea. A woman standing on the wooden ledge cried out to the calm, awesome ocean shouting her lost husband's name. Two unnamed dirty, beaten men sit in the corner out of the way, staring blankly at their shoes.
Cal looked at Rose and studied her profile. He couldn't help but feel a great sense of relief. He was not one of those passengers in mourning but unfortunately, Rose was one of them.
