Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters associated with the film "Titanic". The only thing I do own is the plot.
Chapter Four
Cal sighed as he sat alone in the dining room. He had asked the maid to fetch Rose but she had declined. She had said she preferred to take her tea in her bedroom. He couldn't understand why he was surprised. Rose had done this every day since she had woken up. She had locked herself in that room and hadn't come out for days. When he had finally had enough and broken down the door, she had screamed in terror and begged him to leave her in peace.
Her appearance had sent an electric shock through his body. She had looked so thin and pale. Gone was the healthy beautiful woman he had known and loved. In her place stood a fragile little girl, foreign to him. They had stood there for what seemed like hours, but was truly only a few moments. Neither said a word to the other. Their silence was almost comforting. It had been broken the moment Rose collapsed.
He had run to her and gathered her into his arms. She was so thin and sickly. It had terrified him. He had yelled for the nurse, who ran in seconds later. After Rose had been examined, he had been told that she suffered from post traumatic stress. Who hadn't suffered since the Titanic's sinking?
He suffered every day and said nothing.
Rose suffered every day and said nothing.
It was strange, he thought bitterly, that they suffered in the same way and yet could not simply comfort one another. That would be far too simple and he knew that nothing in his life had ever been simple. His life had been full of complex and stressful situations and he had a feeling things wouldn't take a turn for the better anytime soon.
Cal frowned and took a sip of his tea. It was much too cold now. He couldn't help but think that it was as cold as his home had become. He was not one to pretend that his home had been a warm and cheery place, but now it had become a place of despair. The walls called out to him, crying and begging the Gods for second chances. He tried many a time to turn a deaf ear to the cries, but it was becoming much too hard to endure. He lay in bed at night, willing the cries to end. Would they ever end? Or would he spend the rest of his life surrounded by this horrible darkness that did not want to leave?
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he realized that he was being watched. Had a servant been watching his private musings? Had they enjoyed the look on confusion and defeat that had taken shape on his tired face? He grew angry at the thought and prepared to unleash a verbal beating on whoever had interrupted him. He shot out of the chair and whirled around, only to come to a halt. The vision before him had ended any plan he had been about to proceed with.
She stood there, a vision in lavender, looking at him with uncertainty in her lovely eyes. He had been prepared for anything but this. He took a step toward her only to stop when she backed away from him. His shoulders fell in defeat. Would she ever come to trust him?
"Rose, darling, come sit with me?" he asked.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded her head slowly. She approached him and he moved aside, allowing her to sit down. When she had seated herself completely, he moved to push in her chair. Her hand shot out, stopping him from doing so.
"I don't need your help, Cal. Please leave me be," she said quietly. He instantly moved away from her and took his own seat. He had wanted to lash out at her but stopped himself. It had been hard, but he was willing to be civil. He was willing to be anything for her.
She looked up at him, her eyes piercing into his own. Her stare was so intense that he had to look away. He cleared his throat and wondered if a bit of small talk would help. Just as he was about to open his mouth, her lovely voice broke the silence that had engulfed them for so long.
"How is the tea? I think I'd enjoy a cup myself."
He smiled softly. Perhaps a hot cup of tea would do the both of them good.