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I had changed into a intricately crocheted white dress with fluttering short sleeves for afternoon tea with Ruth, Rose and some of the other first class ladies we were traveling with. We strolled over to the Palm Court on the A Deck, where the tea was served.

"Look at that view," I said to Rose, grabbing her arm as I walked over to the railing.

Rose gave a slight, honest smile, the first I had seen from her in a long time. "It's beautiful isn't it?" she stated.

Inhaling the fresh, salty air, I spread my arms apart and grabbed the railing, like a king admiring his kingdom. I closed my eyes and felt a smile spread across my mouth, feeling the breeze whip the loose tendrils of hair around my face. Then I opened my eyes and gazed out across the vast expanse, nothing but the deep blue ocean dancing in the sunlight.

I happened to glance down at the deck below us, which I understood was an open area reserved for the third class. There were a handful of people roaming about, just relaxing. I saw a father with his daughter. He was holding her up to the railing so she could look at the waves. My gaze averted to a group of three men nearby. One of them was dark-haired and tan skinned and he was sitting on a bench next to a sandy-haired man who was holding what appeared to be a sketchbook. And standing with them was a man in a brown bowler hat whose back was facing me.

The man with the sketchbook looked up, his hair hanging down the sides of his face. I don't think he was looking at me, but instead at Rose. He was blatantly staring, so the other two men followed his gaze. That was when the man in the bowler hat turned around. Even from the distance, I could tell that his eyes were locked with mine. It seemed as though my heart stopped for a second and my breath caught in my throat. I started to cough. Well, that was very discreet.

Rose lightly touched my arm. "Lorena, are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

I straightened up and composed myself. "Yes. I'm perfectly fine."

Ruth came marching towards us. "Come along you two," she demanded. "Being late, as you both know, is disrespectful."

Rose and I rolled our eyes and reluctantly followed my aunt. I stole one last glance over my shoulder at that man in the bowler hat and caught him smirking up at me. I felt my cheeks redden as I smiled back at him.


That night, I lay in bed and I could not fall asleep for the life of me. You see, during dinner, Rose had excused herself from the table and supposedly went to the stern of the ship to look down at the propellers. She leaned too far and almost fell into the water, but there was a man nearby named Jack Dawson who managed to pull her to safety. As a token of thanks, he was invited to dinner for the following night. I thought the entire circumstance was suspicious, but I decided against interrogating Rose. She was visibly shaken and retired early for the night.

I wished I could have checked out as easily as she did, but it was fast approaching midnight and I was wide awake. After tossing and turning, I finally gave up and climbed out of my warm, comfortable bed. I opened my wardrobe and took off my nightclothes and slipped on a simple pale pink chiffon dress, a knee-length ivory and gold brocade coat, and some shoes. I took my brush from my vanity and ran it over my long curly hair. Then, I found the small box I had hidden underneath my bed and opened it, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches and stashing them in my coat pocket. Quietly, I crept out of my bedroom and snuck out of my cabin without disturbing anyone.

I needed some time to myself, just me and my cigarettes, so I descended down to third class, the one place where no one would think to find me. Fortunately, not many people were walking along the decks, as most people were asleep at that hour. For some reason, my body told me to walk towards the stern, the place where I had seen that handsome man in the bowler hat.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at my destination and he was there, no one else around, leaning against the railing and smoking. However, he wasn't wearing the hat. He noticed me and I looked down, trying to hide my smiling, blushing face. I ended up at the port, which is the left side of a ship, while he was at the starboard, which is the right. I lit up one of my cigarettes, tossed the match over the railing, and observed the night sky, which was twinkling with thousands of diamond-like stars.

"I didn't know first class girls were allowed to smoke," the man called over to me. I detected a strong Irish accent in his voice.

Removing the cigarette from my lips, I turned in his direction and blew out a puff of smoke. "And how do you know I'm first class?"

He strolled over to me, took his cigarette from his mouth, and flicked the ashes on the floor. "Because you're sneakin' down here at midnight to light up." He flashed a smile and continued. "And I saw you up there earlier." He motioned to the A Deck above us.

I brought the cigarette back to my lips and took a drag, savoring the taste. "Smoking is frowned upon for a proper lady like myself." I rolled my eyes. "But I say screw that."

He laughed, and I met his eyes. They were a warm brown, the color of chocolate.

"I'm Thomas Ryan," he said, extending his hand. "But everyone calls me Tommy."

I took his hand and shook it. It was strange, really, because I was used to a man kissing the back of my hand, rather than shaking it.

"Lorena O'Hara Montvale," I replied, letting his hand slip from mine.

"O'Hara?" he questioned. "That's a fine Irish name."

"My father's parents were from Ireland. They came to America during the Potato Famine."

"I see," he said, taking one final drag from his cigarette and then tossing it overboard. He was definitely a treat for the eyes, but in a rugged way, with his curly golden blond hair that danced in the wind and a trace of five o'clock shadow on his face. His good looks differed from the highly groomed men I was used to.

"So, Mr. Ryan," I said. "May I ask why you're traveling on the Titanic?"

"Please, call me Tommy. Mr. Ryan is my father," he uttered. "Anyways, I'm here to start a new life in America of course. I'm hoping to make a decent amount of money when I get to New York so I can bring my family over there."

"Oh. Are you married?"

He smirked at me. "No, not yet. But my younger brothers and sisters want to come to America, so my Ma and Da are sending me over there to set up the new Ryan family household."

"It must be sad for you in a way, to leave your home," I said. I knew exactly how that felt.

"It's bittersweet," he replied. "There's more opportunities for me in America, but I'll always miss good ol' Ireland." He paused for a moment, looking out at the ocean. "So, what brings you on board, Miss O'Hara Montvale?" he asked, turning to me.

I tilted my head and grinned. "If I'm calling you Tommy, then you will refer to me as Lorena."

"Lorena, you've got yourself a deal," he enthusiastically stated. "So, is this trip just a long weekend for you rich folk?"

I giggled at his joke. "Not exactly. I'm traveling to Philadelphia for my cousin's wedding, then I'm moving back to my home in Boston."

"Aye." He nodded. "Got a special someone waiting for you?"

I shook my head and looked down at my feet, wondering why my heart was racing and why I was blushing bright red. "I don't." I decided against informing him of my dead husband and my plans to remarry as soon as I could. I didn't want to interrupt this moment and his jovial mood with those depressing details.

"That's a damn shame, because I think you'd be a nice catch." He winked.

My face still flushed, I noticed that my precious cigarette was almost gone. With one last drag, I let it go, allowing the wind to carry it across the sea. "Well Tommy, it's been a pleasure talking to you but I think I should retreat to my cabin." I gave a quick smile and started to walk away, but I felt his hand lightly touch my arm. I whipped my head around and locked eyes with him.

"Wait," said Tommy. "There's a party down in third class tomorrow night and I'd be honored if you came. That's if you want to, of course. I'm sure it won't be as fancy as the first class soirees you're accustomed to."

"I'd love to go!" I said, probably too eagerly.

"Great," he said, his smile lighting up the night. "It'll be in the C Deck, in the third class General Room."

"I'll be there as soon as I can get away from the clutches of first class dinner."

I walked away, back to my cabin, and glanced over my shoulder. I smiled at Tommy, who was watching me stride away. A part of me wanted to stay indefinitely, but the other part wanted to get the hell out of there, because I was sure I made myself look like a foolish little girl. I felt lightheaded and when I raised the back of my hand up to my forehead, my skin was warm, although it was coated in a layer of cold sweat.

I snuck back into my cabin and into my bedroom, changed into my nightclothes, and lay in bed, placing a hand over my unsteady heart. I drifted off to sleep, wishing the next day would just come sooner.