Prologue
RMS Titanic.
April 15th, 1912.
Cries of the passengers could be heard as the ship split in half.
The harsh, cold wind of the Atlantic Ocean touched her lips and she shuddered. Drawing in her woolen shawl, Rose realized her husband was on board. Turning to watch, she swallowed; their cries of shock could be heard. Her throat twisted when she remembered her last encounter with her husband.
"They need you up on deck," his far off voice spoke.
He entered their cabin on level three and she was brushing her hair down. Perplexed, she wondered what he meant but when his eyes loving met hers, she knew she needed to obey. The cabin was warm and cozy, with a single bunk, and along with their suitcases, Rose took her time in dressing. Before long, she was attired in woolen outer garments, a brown shade, which to her felt more like a tree trunk shade, but she didn't complain. Her husband had selected it when they were on honeymoon not long ago. And he'd surprised her with the announcement the couple would return to New York City cruising on the RMS Titanic, which when Rose did the calculations, had taken a course of two years to construct. Then she remembered how she appeared on deck. More confused at the activity. Men and the crewmen were assisting the women and children into lifeboats. The commotion had been hectic and Rose remembered bouncing her eyes back and forth. But when she felt her husband eyes' met hers, she made her way over as he assisted her into one of the boats.
"Now, keep your hands in your pockets because the weather is very cold," he whispered to her.
"Why would I wish to keep my hands in my pockets?" Rose thought once her gloved hand was in his. He'd helped her step into the lifeboat and she noticed that there were few passengers with her. When she made eye contact with him, he released her hand and watched as her boat was being lowered down.
"It wasn't until we were away that I realized my husband had remained behind along with my friends," Rose's last thought was. She would later be rescued on the Carpathia two hours later. But the reminder of her husband's memory went down with the ship… along with her heart. Closing her eyes, she settled back into her seat as the wind blew through her hair.