Chapter 14-Rose's Mistake
Rose sat on her bed with her head in between her hands. She had been staying with Cal now for several months. She had been married to Cal for a whole month now. It had been three months since Thomas had died.
Rose only found out about his death from Cal. Apparently it had been in the papers. Thomas had been out, looking for her and had walked in front of a cart. One of the horses had survived. Thomas had not. It seemed ironic to Rose, really, that Thomas had survived so many trials, and Rose had really thought him to be unsinkable. She had been wrong. It had been one week since Rose had discovered that she was pregnant with his child.
She had told Cal that it was his child, and he seemed to accept it. But Rose knew in her heart that the child would be Thomas's, the very last legacy he had left. Rose still shivered when she thought about Thomas, but it had been evident ever since they arrived in New York that they could never be anything more than star crossed lovers, and even though Rose had loved Thomas, more than she had ever loved before, even more than she thought she could love, she was glad that she had married Cal. She could never feel regret for the times she spent with Thomas, and was, in a sense, proud to be the mother of his child, but the child would never know his real father. Cal would see to it that the child would have the best upbringing, the best career, everything a child could need, and Rose was grateful. At least Thomas's child could grow up and live the life that Thomas should have led.
"Sweetheart?" Cal opened the door of the room they shared. "Are you alright, darling? Are you ill? Should I call the doctor?"
Ever since Cal had found out that she was pregnant, he had been fussing over her day and night. On the Titanic, he had seemed so domineering and dictatorial, but Rose had changed so greatly even in the short time she and Thomas had spent together. She had a taste of freedom, and to her great surprise, had not found it to her liking. Now she could see that Cal really did care about her, it was evident to her in the way he was so protective. He had been bitter about the heart of the ocean, when he found that Thomas had had it, but he laid a claim and repossessed it after Thomas's funeral. Rose would have liked to go, but Cal hadn't suggested it, and Rose doubted he would let her. Secretly, when Cal went out to work, she had snuck down to the cemetery and had sat, for hours, looking at his grave. His family had gone to a lot of trouble, and the grave was set in marble and had an extravagant tombstone. Rose didn't think Thomas would have liked it. He had been such a modest man.
Rose hadn't cried until a week after the funeral. Even when she was standing in front of his grave it had been so easy to pretend that it wasn't Thomas's body inside the casket, that there had been a mix up.
Rose stood up. "I'm fine, Cal."
"Are you sure? I worry about you. And the baby. Our baby," He put his hand on Rose's stomach, which of course, wasn't swelling as yet, and there was no sign of the little Thomas growing inside of her.
Cal left, and Rose lay back down, and stretched out her arms around the imaginary form of Thomas next to her.
"Only you," she breathed.
Rose sat on her bed with her head in between her hands. She had been staying with Cal now for several months. She had been married to Cal for a whole month now. It had been three months since Thomas had died.
Rose only found out about his death from Cal. Apparently it had been in the papers. Thomas had been out, looking for her and had walked in front of a cart. One of the horses had survived. Thomas had not. It seemed ironic to Rose, really, that Thomas had survived so many trials, and Rose had really thought him to be unsinkable. She had been wrong. It had been one week since Rose had discovered that she was pregnant with his child.
She had told Cal that it was his child, and he seemed to accept it. But Rose knew in her heart that the child would be Thomas's, the very last legacy he had left. Rose still shivered when she thought about Thomas, but it had been evident ever since they arrived in New York that they could never be anything more than star crossed lovers, and even though Rose had loved Thomas, more than she had ever loved before, even more than she thought she could love, she was glad that she had married Cal. She could never feel regret for the times she spent with Thomas, and was, in a sense, proud to be the mother of his child, but the child would never know his real father. Cal would see to it that the child would have the best upbringing, the best career, everything a child could need, and Rose was grateful. At least Thomas's child could grow up and live the life that Thomas should have led.
"Sweetheart?" Cal opened the door of the room they shared. "Are you alright, darling? Are you ill? Should I call the doctor?"
Ever since Cal had found out that she was pregnant, he had been fussing over her day and night. On the Titanic, he had seemed so domineering and dictatorial, but Rose had changed so greatly even in the short time she and Thomas had spent together. She had a taste of freedom, and to her great surprise, had not found it to her liking. Now she could see that Cal really did care about her, it was evident to her in the way he was so protective. He had been bitter about the heart of the ocean, when he found that Thomas had had it, but he laid a claim and repossessed it after Thomas's funeral. Rose would have liked to go, but Cal hadn't suggested it, and Rose doubted he would let her. Secretly, when Cal went out to work, she had snuck down to the cemetery and had sat, for hours, looking at his grave. His family had gone to a lot of trouble, and the grave was set in marble and had an extravagant tombstone. Rose didn't think Thomas would have liked it. He had been such a modest man.
Rose hadn't cried until a week after the funeral. Even when she was standing in front of his grave it had been so easy to pretend that it wasn't Thomas's body inside the casket, that there had been a mix up.
Rose stood up. "I'm fine, Cal."
"Are you sure? I worry about you. And the baby. Our baby," He put his hand on Rose's stomach, which of course, wasn't swelling as yet, and there was no sign of the little Thomas growing inside of her.
Cal left, and Rose lay back down, and stretched out her arms around the imaginary form of Thomas next to her.
"Only you," she breathed.
