CHAPTER THREE-Once more, with feeling.

Dedicated to Thomas Andrews-you are still in my memory as you were in 1912.
Thomas Andrews couldn't believe his eyes when he opened the door of his stateroom and saw Rose Dewitt Bukator standing outside. "Mr Andrews," She said softly. "Mr Andrews-I had to come and talk to you-to tell you why I-"

"Come in then, young Rose." He opened his door more widely, and gestured for her to come in. "Please sit down". Thomas requested.

Rose sat.

"Now, what was it you wanted to speak to me about, Rose?" Thomas asked.

"Oh, Mr Andrews, I-I want to thank you for what you did the other night, I was-Was-I was being stupid, I wasn't thinking. I really am very happy, and now that I've told you that, I'll just go and-". She stood up to leave, but Thomas grabbed her arm.

"Don't lie to me, Rose. I know that you meant what you were doing. You fought with me the whole time I tried to pull you up."

She tried to remove his grip on her arm, but her persisted. "I know you're unhappy, Rose. What else could make a girl like you think she had no way out? Open up to me Rose. You can talk to me. After this voyage, we'll never see each other again." Thomas wondered why the mere thought of never seeing her again made his heart ache. "I want to know you wont try and jump off another ship."

"Why do you care so?" Asked Rose, turning to face him ."You don't even know me. Of course I'm happy. I love Cal. I'm fabulous!"

Thomas leant forward and kissed her, then drew back, horrified he has just let his emotions run unchecked. "I'm sorry, Miss Dewitt Bukater!"He exclaimed. "I should not have done that. Forgive me, my lady, please. I am sorry-"

"Will you stop apologizing for a moment?" Rose interrupted, then leant forward and kissed him herself.

"Rose," Mr Andrew whispered, his voice hoarse. "Are you sure?"

"It makes no sense. That's why I trust it." She said, welcoming another kiss from Thomas. When they broke apart, Thomas was amazed. "How old are you, Rose?" He asked.

"Does it matter?" Rose replied rhetorically, evading his question.

"Yes it does, damn it!" Thomas was stunned to hear the bitterness in his voice, and felt Rose jump. He lowered his voice. "Tell me, please, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," She replied reluctantly.

Thomas drew back, alarmed. She was even younger than he thought she was. This would never be accepted. "I'm 39."He said simply.

"So?" Asked Rose, leaning greedily forward.

"No!" Thomas pushed her away. "Rose, you know this can't work. Please, don't make this any harder for me, Rose, no. You're engaged to Caledon, you know he's better for you then me, Rose, you know it. He's nine years younger than me, and has more time to pay attention to you, and can has more money than me, and-"Thomas trailed off. He realized he was trying to reassure himself as much as he was trying to reassure her. He had never felt this way about a woman before, he knew that, but he wasn't so selfish as to try and claim Rose for himself.

"Mr Andrews-Thomas-you haven't given me a chance to tell you the truth." Rose said softly. "I don't love Cal. My mother arranged the engagement because since my father died, we have been running out of money. She introduced Cal to me. He acts like he owns me. You saw him at dinner. When I get back to America, we will be married. I wont survive it, I can't stand the man. Nine years isn't much more than Cal. If you could explain to everyone-"

Thomas drew back, blocking out her words. She was using him to get to Cal! She thought she couldn't be any worse of married to him than Cal, and was going along with it. Thomas was sickened. The poor girl was desperate. But that's all she was, literally. A poor girl, trying to escape her own life by marrying an older man, who travelled a lot, who would never be home.

And why not? Screamed a voice inside Thomas's head. Why not? it would be convenient for her. And you would be next to her for a long, long time. But he could not resign the girl to another loveless marriage. He would not free her only to cage her again.

"Goodbye, Rose." He said simply. "I cannot do this thing. I cannot marry you if you do not love me."

"Love? Love is a myth." She said hastily, trying to recover her composure, when inside she was shocked he figured out her intentions so quickly. Was she that obvious? "I know you like me. And I don't like Cal. I know you wouldn't force me around like Cal would. You would treat me well. I trust you."

"But you do not love me." His statement was flat and emotionless. "It would be for convenience only."

"Thomas, please-"

"Rose, I know that I am a fool for falling for a girl like yourself. But I will not make an idiot of myself. Goodbye, Rose. I wish you luck and good fortune. Please leave." He opened the door. In a few days, he would never see her again. His heart was bleeding with agony. He was a simple man, a man that had never loved, except for ships and the ocean. At least she was on his ship, the two most beautiful things he had ever seen. One created by himself, the other, it seemed, to be the creator of himself, for he had never felt like this before.

"Farewell, Mr Andrews. I am sorry." Rose left, and Mr Thomas shut the door. He walked over to his desk, and sat down, but he knew he could not work. He took his head in his hands and cried.