Chapter 14
Rose sat beside Maureen on the deck of the Titanic, the polished wood warm beneath their chairs. The air was calm, save for the occasional chatter of passengers passing by or the faint clinking of tea cups from the nearby tables. Rose gazed out at the endless horizon, her chin resting lightly on her hand. Maureen, seated next to her, flipped lazily through a magazine, though her eyes seemed unfocused, lost in thought.
After a few moments of silence, Rose turned to her, her voice soft. "Maureen, have you ever been in love?"
Maureen paused, the corner of her mouth twitching as if caught off guard. She closed the magazine slowly, resting it on her lap. "Yes," she said finally, her voice gentle but tinged with something bittersweet.
Rose straightened in her chair, intrigued. "What's it like?" she asked, her curiosity genuine. "How do you know when you're in love?"
Maureen tilted her head, gazing at the sea as a soft smile spread across her lips. But there was something wistful in her expression, as though the memory she conjured was both beautiful and painful. "It's like…" she began, searching for the right words. "It's like the world suddenly feels brighter, yet heavier at the same time. Brighter because everything seems more vivid, more alive. Heavier because it feels like you're carrying something precious, something that matters more than anything else."
Rose watched her closely, captivated. "That sounds… wonderful."
Maureen glanced at her, her eyes gentle but clouded with a sadness that Rose couldn't quite place. "It is," she admitted. "But it's not without its challenges. Love has a way of showing you who you really are, of asking you to be braver than you thought you could be."
Rose frowned slightly, leaning forward. "Why braver?"
Maureen hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands, which fidgeted with the corner of the magazine. "Because sometimes, the world doesn't make it easy. Sometimes, the person you love isn't the person everyone else thinks you should love. Or the timing is all wrong. Or there are choices to make—difficult ones."
Rose noticed the way Maureen's fingers trembled slightly as she spoke, and she reached out, placing a hand over hers. "It sounds like it wasn't easy for you."
Maureen's smile returned, softer now. "No, it wasn't. But it was worth it. Every moment. Love, real love, is always worth it."
Rose sat back, her heart both heavy and light at once. She tried to imagine what Maureen meant, but she felt as though she were grasping at something just out of reach. "I hope I'll know what that feels like someday. I hope I'll be able to feel that about Cal." she said quietly.
Maureen's smile widened, and she turned to Rose fully, her eyes sparkling now despite the lingering sadness. "Oh, Rose," she said softly. "You will. When it happens, you'll know. It won't be something you can mistake for anything else. Perhaps it will be someone other than your fiance." She gave Rose a cheesy wink.
"Don't be absurd." Rose laughed nervously. They sat there in silence for a while, the steady hum of the ship's engines and the sound of waves breaking against its hull the only noises between them. Rose turned her gaze back to the horizon, her thoughts swirling as she wondered about Maureen's story and the kind of love that could make someone brave.
The house was alive with its usual sounds—Grace's baby sounds in from the sitting room, Evelyn's cheerful chatter, and Sarah's rhythmic footsteps as she moved about completing her chores. Outside, Mark's muffled voice carried as he barked instructions, accompanied by the faint clatter of tools. Somewhere amidst it all, Jack was working, his presence an unspoken anchor in her thoughts.
Rose felt a calm she hadn't known in years. The secrets she had carried, once so heavy and isolating, had been released. She had braced herself for the worst—judgment, rejection, maybe even pity. But instead, she had been met with care, understanding, and acceptance. The memories of those moments lingered, warm and reassuring.
Sarah's hug had been immediate, her words soft but unwavering, promising support no matter what. Mark, usually stoic, had nodded after a long silence, his approval simple but solid, an unspoken message that she was still part of their family. And Jack… Jack had looked at her as though she were something fragile yet unbroken, his steady presence a reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.
The kettle whistled, jolting her from her thoughts. She poured the steaming tea into a chipped mug and carried it out to the porch. The cool morning breeze brushed against her skin, carrying with it the earthy scent of summer. Sarah sat nearby, her hands busy with knitting, her face a picture of quiet contentment. Rose joined her, cradling the tea in her lap as she let the stillness of the moment settle over her.
She gazed out at the yard, her eyes wandering over the familiar sights. The chickens pecked idly at the dirt near the fence, their movements lazy under the rising sun. Somewhere in the barn, Mark and Jack were at work, their faint voices blending with the rustle of leaves in the distance. A soft smile touched Rose's lips. The tightness in her chest, so familiar and constant over the years, was finally beginning to ease.
After finishing her tea, Rose stood, brushing invisible crumbs from her skirt. She lingered for a moment, gazing across the yard as if committing the scene to memory. Then, as if drawn by some unseen thread, her feet carried her toward the barn. She approached quietly, her steps soft against the dirt, until she reached the wide-open doorway. There, she paused, leaning lightly against the frame.
Jack was inside, working alongside Mark to repair a loose hinge on a wooden gate. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his sun-tanned arms, and his hair was slightly disheveled from the morning's work. Rose watched him for a moment, her heart unexpectedly light. He looked up then, catching her gaze, and for an instant, time seemed to stretch. The corners of his mouth lifted, just barely, before he returned to his task.
Rose didn't move. She stayed there, watching, a quiet contentment settling over her. The barn grew quiet as Mark's retreating footsteps faded into the distance. The sunlight streaming through the cracks in the wooden walls painted streaks of gold across the space, illuminating the scattered tools and bales of hay. Rose and Jack stood still, their breaths the only sound between them as they waited, ears tuned to the faintest hint of Mark's voice or the creak of the farmhouse door.
When they were certain he was gone, Jack turned to her, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Rose mirrored his smile, her cheeks warm with anticipation. The air between them seemed to hum with unspoken understanding, the thrill of their shared secret sending a jolt of excitement through her.
Jack closed the space between them in a few quick strides, his hands finding their way to her waist as he pulled her close. Rose tilted her head up, her fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt as their lips met in a kiss, soft at first but quickly deepening with the urgency of stolen moments. The barn felt like a world of its own, the walls shielding them from everything beyond. Rose's hands slid up to his shoulders, her touch light but deliberate. Jack's thumb stroked small circles against her side, his breath warm against her cheek. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them smiling as they caught their breath.
"I should go," Rose whispered, though she made no move to leave. Her hands lingered on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
Jack chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His gaze softened as he looked at her, the mischief giving way to something deeper. "You always say that," he murmured.
Her smile widened, but she gently pushed away from him, glancing toward the barn door. "Someone might catch us."
"That's part of the fun," he teased, but he released her, leaning back against the workbench with a smirk that told her he wasn't letting this go easily.
Rose straightened her skirt, trying to compose herself, but the flush in her cheeks gave her away. As she stepped toward the door, she turned back, giving him a playful look over her shoulder. "You're impossible."
Jack grinned, crossing his arms as he watched her leave. "And you love it."
She shook her head with mock exasperation but couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as she slipped out of the barn.
The days of August blurred together, long and warm, with a tension that seemed to thrum in the air whenever Rose and Jack were near each other. They continued their careful charade, sneaking glances when no one was looking, brushing fingers as they passed each other in the hall, sharing fleeting smiles that carried unspoken promises.
But beneath the surface, something deeper simmered.
For Rose, it was a restless energy that she couldn't quite name—a need that seemed to grow stronger every time she saw him. She found herself watching him more often, her heart leaping at the way his shirt clung to his back when he worked in the sun or the way his hair fell over his forehead when he wiped his brow. The sight of him smiling at Evelyn or cradling baby Grace sent a warmth coursing through her chest, a longing she didn't fully understand. It was beyond the excitement of their secret kisses; it was something raw and consuming.
At night, when the house was quiet and the moonlight spilled through her window, Rose would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding as she thought about him. The memory of his touch, the softness of his lips against hers, the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the world—all of it lingered, making her ache with an intensity she'd never known.
Jack, for his part, wasn't faring much better. He worked harder than ever during the day, throwing himself into tasks with a fervor that left Mark shaking his head in amused confusion. But it was a futile effort to distract himself. No amount of labor could stop his thoughts from drifting to her: the way her hair caught the sunlight, the curve of her smile, the softness in her eyes when they were alone. It was becoming harder to resist the pull, harder to keep his distance when all he wanted was to hold her, to feel her closer than ever before.
Every stolen moment only made the yearning worse. A touch of her hand that lingered just a second too long. The way her breath hitched when his thumb brushed her cheek. The way she leaned into him, as if she couldn't help it. They were like moths circling a flame, knowing the danger but unable to stop.
A few days later, after the sun had already set behind the horizon, the living room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the fire casting flickering shadows across the walls. Mark leaned back in his chair, suppressing a yawn, while Sarah gathered up her knitting and stretched her arms.
"Well," Sarah said, her voice soft but firm, "it's been a long day. I think we'll call it a night. You two heading up as well?"
Rose looked up from her book, resting it on her lap. She felt Jack's eyes on her but didn't meet his gaze. Before she could answer, Jack spoke up.
"I think I'll go for a walk," he said casually, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms.
Sarah frowned. "At this hour?"
Jack shrugged, giving her a small, disarming smile. "Helps calm my mind. Clears my head before bed."
"Strange new habit of yours?" Mark chuckled, getting to his feet, but he seemed too tired to press further. Sarah, however, glanced between Jack and Rose, her brow furrowed with mild suspicion, yet she decided to let it slide. Jack stood, straightening his shirt and stretching again as he made his way to the door. Just before stepping out, he turned and cast a quick, mischievous glance at Rose. It was fleeting, but she caught it, and her heart skipped.
"I won't be long," he said, disappearing into the crisp night.
Sarah watched him leave, then turned to Rose with a quizzical expression. "You're not heading up?"
Rose held up her book. "I just want to finish this chapter first," she said, keeping her voice calm and light.
Sarah gave her a skeptical look but said nothing. She nodded and went upstairs with Mark, the sound of their steps fading as they reached the upper floor. It wasn't until complete silence had fallen over the house that Rose dared to get out of her chair.
The barn was quiet except for the occasional rustle of hay and the soft creaks of the wooden beams in the night breeze. The scent of earth and straw filled the air as Rose hurried toward the dimly lit building, her pulse racing faster with each step. She pushed the door open, her heart leaping when she saw Jack waiting for her, leaning casually against a stack of hay bales, a soft smile spreading across his face as she approached.
"Finally," he teased, but before he could say more, Rose rushed into his arms, her momentum nearly knocking him off balance.
Jack laughed as he caught her, his arms wrapping securely around her. She buried her face in his neck, her breathing quick and shallow. He held her close, his hands splaying across her back as if to anchor her to him.
"You sure know how to take your time." he said as his smirk grew.
"My book is just too addictive, I could barely put it down." She jokingly snapped back. Then, without another word, she leaned back, cupping his face with both hands, and kissed him with an intensity that surprised even herself. Jack responded immediately, his lips pressing firmly against hers, his hands sliding up to cradle her head.
They stumbled backward into the hay, laughing softly as they fell together onto the soft, fragrant bed. Rose lay on her back, looking up at him as he hovered over her, his face illuminated by the faint moonlight seeping through the cracks in the barn. His gaze searched hers, full of wonder and unspoken questions. She pulled him closer, silencing any hesitation with another kiss. Her hands explored his shoulders, his back, gripping him as if she were afraid he might slip away. But Jack didn't pull back. He stayed, matching her passion, his own restraint slowly unraveling with each passing moment.
"Rose," he breathed against her lips, his voice husky, but she silenced him again, shaking her head slightly.
"No words," she whispered.
The world outside the barn disappeared. It was just them now, their hearts pounding in unison, the heat between them building until it became impossible to ignore. Rose's hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, trembling slightly as she began to undo them.
Jack paused, his forehead resting against hers, his breath uneven. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible.
Rose looked up at him, her eyes shining with determination and something deeper. She nodded, pulling him closer again, her body arching toward his as if to answer the question he hadn't asked aloud.
"I want this," she whispered, her voice steady, leaving no room for doubt. Rose watched him as he pulled himself back up, finishing unbuttoning his shirt, his bare chest visible in the dim light of the barn. She could feel her heart beating in her chest and for a moment she was certain it would beat out of it; she would explode right in this moment of love and passion. Jack's hands slowly made it's way back to her body stopping at her chest and he squeezed gently.
It all happened so slow yet so fast at the same time, before she could truly comprehend what was really happening, they lay on top of each other without any piece of clothing blocking their touch. Their naked bodies filled with heat, heavy breathing echoing between the wooden frames of the barn.
Their eyes met and Rose bit her lip. "Jack, you must know I am not really familiar with this. I hope I won't disappoint you."
"No," he breathed before planting another deep kiss on her lips, "you can never disappoint me, Rose. You must tell me if you don't like anything I do." His lips slowly and softly traveled from her lips to her neck down the rest of her body until he was down at her thighs. She didn't know what to expect, but everything about it left her with a warmth inside her she could not comprehend. It wasn't soon after that a loud moan escaped her lips and she clenched the hay underneath her. Her back arched, her head shot back. She had to clench the hay even harder to be able to control the ecstasy within.
What followed next was the rhythmic movements of their bodies together. Jack's touch was determent as though he wanted to prove her he was worth giving up this part of innocence for. Yet, as he entered her, he was utmost careful not to break her. Rose responded with equal longing, each thrust arousing her even more. Her hands kept tracing parts of his body, memorizing every line and curve. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rose felt truly seen, truly known. There was no pretense here, no performance, just the raw, unfiltered truth of who they were. And in Jack's arms, she found a sense of freedom she hadn't realized she was possible of finding.