Chapter Thirty-One

December 7th, 1913
New York City, New York

Jack and Tim walked into a bar that was the nearest to Tim's law office. It was dimly lit with low hanging smoke formed around the buzzing lights coming from the rafters. Tim rarely went to bars, preferring to simply find a restaraunt, and he very rarely ever drank during the day, preferring coffee. He typically reserved drinking for the evenings. But today, he felt different about it.

The two men seated themselves at the corner of the bar, away from the few washed up patrons occupying the space. A few men glanced towards Tim and his crisp suit. Jack simply fit into the crowd. Jack ordered them two cheap beers. Tim remained silent, his shoulders hunched and his elbows on the bar. When they were served, Jack relished in his first frothy sip.

"So, by your demeanor, I'm guessin' you're in the same boat as me," Jack said, nodding towards Tim, "Things seemed to be going well when I last saw you."

"I thought they were," Tim finally took a drink of the beer. It was tangy and left a rather unpleasant after taste, but Tim continued to nurse it as, finally, he allowed himself to wallow in his current predicament. He was tired of forcing himself to act like he was made of stone. Something about Jack comforted him and he felt his role as a lawyer sliding off him in that moment, like a heavy coat.

"What happened?" Jack asked, setting his elbows on the bar and taking a swig of beer.

Tim still seemed hesitant. He placed his knuckles to his chin as he contemplated his words. He bobbed his knee absent mindedly and slowly lifted his eyes to look at Jack, "I... don't know," He finally said, licking his lips pensively, "I thought things were going well. But a few days ago, she laid it on me that she didn't think she could be with me."

Jack pulled his cigarette from his coat and stuck one between his lips, toying with the filter by the tip of his tongue. He held the pack out towards Tim who declined by shaking his head, and instead, opted to take a drink a beer. Jack lit his cigarette and looked to Tim, "Well, what'd she say?" Jack asked, smothering a smirk, "Startin' to sound like me, Tim."

"She said the most ludicrous thing," Tim raked his hand through his dark brown locks, "She told me I deserved better. That she wasn't the right one for me," Tim shook his head and exhaled, nearly frustrated, "How could she think that? She looks like a goddess from one of those Pre-Raphaelite paintings. You know which ones I'm talking about, right?"

"Yeah, the ones that featured primarily red headed girls," Jack nodded, well-versed in his art history, "I've seen a few of 'em on display at some different museums. So, you're telling me she is drop-dead gorgeous?"

"She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Tim said, staring distantly at nothing in particular while taking a drink of his beer.

"Yeah," Jack said after lowering his beer, "It's the pretty ones that are the most trouble."

"It's not even that she's trouble," Tim shook his head, "She just... has been through a lot."

"Oh, like what?" Jack asked.

"She was on the Titanic," Tim replied after pondering for a moment, "I can't imagine how difficult that was on her. She's completely isolated from her family. Isn't that absurd? I couldn't ever dream of a life without family."

"Well, then, you're the lucky one here," Jack shrugged, "I lost my entire family before I was even thirteen years old."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Tim said genuinely, looking to Jack. Jack stared back at the lawyer for a moment and swallowed his beer roughly. Jack had been having fun putting on a charade for Tim, but the more they spoke, the more Jack realized Tim was similar to him, drowned in a lovesick feeling for the same exact woman. Jack was beginning to uncover just how crucial Rose had become in Tim's life in the past year, during his own absence. Part of Jack was sad for him, but the other part was territorial, as if he had to stand the small ground he had left in Rose's life.

"Don't be," Jack finally said, signalling to the bartender for another round that was served promptly. He grabbed hold of his fresh cold beer, gripping it tightly beneath his trembling fingers, "We can't spend our whole lives regretting, right?"

"I've always lived by that standard," Tim lowered his eyes, "But, Jack," He made direct eye contact with him again, "I'm fearful that if I just let Rose go, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. She means so much to me. She's absolutely unforgettable. Her laugh, her eyes, her skin... there's something intoxicating about that woman that I have yet to put my finger on. Something about her drives me mad. She insists she's a mess with her own closet full of skeletons, like your Rose, but I just can't accept that excuse. I'm not a man that's afraid of work. I'd do anything to have us be together."

Jack took a slow drag of his cigarette, glancing to his hazy ribbon drifting away from him. He looked towards Tim who was continuing to nurse his new beer without so much as a second thought now, "Well, see, that's your problem," Jack said, making Tim pause and lower his drink.

"I'm sorry?"

Jack adjusted himself on his barstool, his cigarette dangling loosely between his lips, "I've been around the block, Tim. You're makin' the same mistakes that I did."

"And what's that?" Tim furrowed his brow.

"You can fix a fence, you can fix a car," Jack replied, taking his cigarette out of his mouth, "But you cannot fix a person. You can't un-do the hurt, you can't make the regrets and pain go away. Only the person actively feeling those things can. Sounds to me like she knows where she stands. If you love her, then you should respect how she feels."

"I understand her feelings," Tim said, "I've never faced the hardships she has. But she doesn't give herself enough credit. I just want to prove to her she's more than what she thinks she is," Tim leaned forward on the bar, "If I was able to convince Rose of the amazing woman she is, I feel like she could equip herself to finally have an attempt at a happy life."

"It's not a one size fits all," Jack told him, blowing smoke into the already muggy bar.

"So, what? I'm supposed to just give up on what I believe is the love of my life?" Tim asked, hunching his shoulders in discontent, "What if I never meet someone like her ever again?"

"Oh, there's plenty of fish in the sea," Jack smirked, his eyes rolling over to Tim, "You just gotta put your bait back on the hook and cast. You never know what you may find."

Tim shook his head, "I'm ordering a whiskey. I need one. How about you?"

"Shoot yeah, let's do it," Jack grinned, "The more I drink, the wiser I get."

Tim smiled politely at this before signalling to the bartender. Jack figured they'd each get a shallow glass, but to his surprise, Tim purchased an entire bottle off the shelf for the two of them to share. Jack watched as Tim poured the amber-colored drink into a crystal tumbler and threw his head back. Jack remembered that Rose had always told him how prim and proper the lawyer was. But in this moment of time, Jack felt like he was uncovering a whole new side to the man.

After filling his tumbler again, Tim reached into the inside of his coat and pulled a small velvet box out, setting it on the bar. Jack's grip tightened around his cup of whiskey as he stared at it. He felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest, every muscle in his body tensing. Jack's nostrils flared as he looked at it before meeting Tim's eyes.

"What's that?"

"That's her ring," Tim replied, sipping his whiskey slowly now, relishing in the warmth.

"You actually bought one?" Jack nearly sounded incredulous.

"I bought it before she tried to end things," Tim told him, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose before he corrected them, "This is how serious I am about this, Jack. You have to understand why I'm just a broken record harping on about how she is the one. I know she is. It's a gut feeling and I've always been told to follow that instinct."

"May I?" Jack asked, arching his eyebrows and nodding towards the box.

Tim gave him an open-palmed gesture, "Please," He then poured himself a new glass.

Cautiously, Jack took the velvet box into his hand. He tilted it back and forth for a moment, gauging the weight, before he took a deep breath and opened it. It was a sterling silver ring with delicate ivy engravings along the band. Sitting atop it, however, was a large diamond, glinting in the dim lighting of the bar. Jack tilted the box again to inspect the ring closely.

God, look at that thing! You woulda gone straight to the bottom! Distantly, Jack heard the Atlantic Ocean washing through his ears. The diamond was too large, in Jack's opinion. Too gaudy for the taste of Rose. It looked like yet another link in her shackles.

"It's pretty," Jack finally said, pursing his lips. He closed the box and put it back onto the bar, "But do you really think it's the right thing to do? Listen to what she's tellin' you, Tim."

"Nothing she's told me has ever given me the thought of turning tail," Tim said, pouring himself another drink. His brow was furrowed deeply. He was obviously a mix of drunk and frustrated, which was probably very conflicting to feel. He set the whiskey down with a heavy clunk and the alcohol sloshed about in the bottle. Tim's hazel eyes met Jack's blue ones, "I'm not giving up on her, Jack. I can't. She's heartbroken, she's lonely. Who would I be to just accept what she says and leave her that way? I can't do it. I won't do it."

Jack placed his head in his hand and took a sip of whiskey, his eyes never leaving the determined Tim, "So, from what I've gathered, the emotional aspect of this relationship is, to put it bluntly, a train wreck," Jack cleared his throat and straightened up in his barstool, the confidence of alcohol leaking into his veins, "How are things otherwise? Do you have fun with her?"

"Dinner's are always great," Tim nodded, "It seems like we never run out of things to talk about. She's brilliant, Jack. I could listen to her speak for hours on end," Jack felt his skin tingle at his words, "She has so many diverse interests. She's seen so much of the world. Her personality is as unique as her looks are."

"What about... the physical aspect?" Jack eyed him from beneath his brow before refilling his drink to occupy himself.

"I told you she was beautiful," Tim said, throwing his whiskey down in one foul swoop. Jack passed the bottle, amused by Tim's ability to simply let go, "Not to be un-gentlemanly, but she is a treasure beneath all those clothes. I've only slept with her once and it was magnificent."

"Just once?" Jack echoed, trying his damnedest to withhold any laughs.

"I don't want to push her," Tim replied, glancing around the bar, "I want her to be comfortable with me. These things take time."

Jack smirked and lowered his eyes to his whiskey. He gave the cup a gentle jolt, watching the ripples spread across the surface. Jack couldn't help but relish in the conversation. Poor little Tim, Jack thought to himself. Only been around the block with Rose once, while he and Rose had been to the moon and back. Jack eventually cleared his throat and looked to the stewing lawyer.

"Now that it's all out in the air..." Jack waved his hand around him, "You're a logical man. You see things for how they really are. From everything you've told me right now, what part about that seems salvageable? What part sounds easy?"

Tim laughed, surprising Jack, "Nothing about love is easy, Jack."

"I disagree," Jack shook his head, now silencing the lawyer, "When two people love each other, they know it. And they do anything to make it possible. It sounds to me like she's dodging you, Tim. She's already wounded and bleeding. She probably doesn't know what's left to do."

"I think she's just haunted by what happened to her in the Atlantic Ocean," Tim said, "She's a strong woman. I think she just needs time. Eventually, the pain has to lessen, doesn't it?"

"Depends on the person," Jack shrugged.

"Well, I know Rose," Tim poured himself more whiskey. The bottle was nearing empty at this point, "She's strong enough to come through this. I know she is. And I'll be waiting for her on the other side. There's nothing I want more than her to be happy."

"Did you ever stop to think..." Jack paused and rapped his knuckles against the bar. He licked his lips pensively and looked to Tim, who was indulging in his whiskey, "... that maybe she'd just be happier by herself?" Tim paused and lowered his eyes. The two men remained silent.

...

It was dark outside when Jack and Tim finally emerged from the bar. It was cold and had been snowing all day. Several city workers were busy hauling shovel after shovel of snow into enbankments following the paths, sprinkling salt as they went. Tim adjusted his coat on his shoulders and wobbled for a moment. He couldn't recall the last time he had been so drunk. Jack immediately lit a cigarette when they stepped outside. He tilted his head back and looked to the stars for a moment.

Tim cleared his throat and looked to Jack, "Thank you."

Jack snorted, his cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, "For what?"

"I really don't have any true friends to confide in," Tim shuffled his feet, "It was... nice to be able to just talk to someone for once. I hope this doesn't change your mind about using my services. I am more than happy to be your lawyer, Jack."

Jack smirked and turned his head towards Tim. He raked his hair from his eyes and nodded, tapping some ash off the end of his cherried cigarette, "Yeah. I think you'll make a fine lawyer for me, Tim. You should be seein' me around."

"Do you live far? I can call a taxi for you."

"No, no," Jack lifted his hand, "I'm just fine. What about you?"

"I'll make it," Tim grinned crookedly.

Jack began to slowly back away from Tim, his shoes crunching through the snow, "Remember what we talked about, alright?"

"I will."

Jack paused for a moment, putting his hands in his pockets. He glanced around, his smoke following his movement. Finally, Jack looked back towards the lawyer, "There's a lot of people in this world."

Tim lowered his eyes and nodded, "I know."

"Goodnight, Tim," Jack said, exhaling a plume of smoke. And with that, he turned around and hunched his shoulders, bracing himself against the bitter cold winds. Luckily, majority of the walk was downhill for Jack. When the sidewalk began climbing upwards, he knew he was close to Rose's apartment. He smirked to himself, recalling the long afternoon he spent with Tim. He was hopeful he had given the lawyer something to think about, something to chew on.

Jack stomped his cigarette out and let himself into the dim front foyer of the apartment complex. He shook his boots around to prevent snow from tracking in. He let himself into the first apartment on the right and paused as he entered the door. Rose was laid out cross the couch in a black silk robe. Her head was tilted into the couch cushions, her eyes fluttering as she slept. Strewn across her chest was a book about James Madison. Jack smiled and gently closed the door, shrugging out of his coat. He lifted the book from Rose's slumbering body and closed it, setting it precariously atop another stack of books. He sat down on the edge of the couch and took hold of her slender hands, into his chilly ones. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. Rose's eyes slowly opened and she blinked rapidly, turning her head towards Jack.

"Jack," She breathed quietly, still rousing from her nap, "where have you been?"

Jack grinned and tilted his head, some blond hair clawing across his forehead, "I was just takin' care of some business. That's all."