Chapter 13

The porch was cloaked in the soft hues of twilight, the only sound the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the warm evening breeze. Jack sat next to Rose, his hand enveloping hers as she poured out her heart, her voice trembling under the weight of her memories.

"By the time I found Maureen in the water, she was already dead," Rose choked out, tears streaming down her face. Her grip on Jack's hand tightened as if grounding herself to the present while reliving the horrors of the past.

Jack didn't speak. He didn't dare interrupt. He only squeezed her hand gently, letting her know he was there, listening.

"I tried, Jack. I really tried. But it was too late. And then the cold... oh, God, the cold." She shivered involuntarily, and Jack shifted closer, offering his warmth without a word. "I thought I'd die there, too. But then I saw a large piece of wood floating nearby. I don't even remember how I got to it, but I climbed on and held on, waiting."

A lump was forming in Jack's throat.

"Waiting to die," she whispered, her voice breaking. She looked at him, her eyes glassy with tears. "You might think the screams are what haunt me the most, but it's not. It's the silence that came after. That awful, suffocating silence when the screams stopped. When it was just... me."

Jack's jaw tightened, his heart breaking for her, but he let her continue.

"I don't know how long I was there. Hours, maybe longer. The stars blurred. My body went numb, and I thought... I thought I was already dead. And then, I saw a light." She paused, her breath hitching. "It was a boat coming back. At first, I didn't believe it was real. I thought it was... a trick, a hallucination. But they pulled me out."

Her voice cracked again, and she buried her face in her free hand, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Jack let go of her hand only to wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer.

"They saved me," she continued, her voice muffled against his shirt. "But I didn't feel saved, Jack. Not really. I felt like a ghost. Like I was the one who shouldn't have made it. There were so many others... better people, stronger people... Maureen. She deserved to live."

Jack rested his chin lightly on her hair, closing his eyes as he absorbed her pain. "Rose," he said softly, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "you can't carry all of that alone. It's not your fault. None of it."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "But I lived, when only a few days prior to it I wanted to die. I lived, and she didn't. How is that fair? How do I live with that?"

Jack cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear. "You live by being here. By being who you are, Rose. By honoring her memory, not burying it. You live because you're meant to. And that's enough."

Her lip quivered, and for a moment, she just stared at him, searching his face for judgment, for blame—but there was none. Only quiet understanding and a steady presence that made her feel, for the first time in months, like she wasn't drowning alone. So she dared to go on.

"I took on the name Williams," she continued, her voice firming slightly, "because it felt... safe. Anonymous. I didn't want anyone finding me, and I didn't want to go back to my old life. So I sold the engagement ring, used the money to get by, and stayed in New York for a little while. But every street reminded me of something—someone. It felt like I was suffocating."

Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his cigarette forgotten in the ashtray beside him. "And that's when you remembered Maureen," he said gently, piecing it together.

She nodded. "She used to talk about this place all the time. How peaceful it was, how different from the city. It felt like the only place I could go where no one would look for me, where no one would know me. I just wanted... to start over. So, I arrived with barely anything. I used what little money I had left to get a room at the boarding house, and I told myself I'd figure it out. But then... I met Sarah and Mark. They took me in without question, without knowing a thing about me."

Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze never leaving hers. "And you never thought to tell them the truth?"

"How could I?" she replied, her voice tinged with guilt. "They were so kind to me, and I didn't want them to look at me differently. To pity me, or worse, to send me away. I just wanted a place where I could breathe again."

Jack let her words settle between them, understanding her fear but also feeling the weight of all she'd been carrying alone.

"And him?" Jack asked carefully, his tone neutral. "Your fiancé. Did he make it?"

Rose's expression hardened slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Cal did make it, yes," she said, the name dripping with disdain. "I saw him on the Carpathia. He was looking for me. But that man didn't love me, Jack. He loved the idea of me, what I represented. To him, I was just a part of his collection—another possession to flaunt. That's why I had to hide. I knew that if he found me, he would pull me straight back to that golden cage."

"He won't find you here," Jack said firmly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

Rose then looked at him and let out a deep sigh. Her body suddenly felt weak with exhaustion, as if she was going to collapse in Jack's lap at any moment. All the emotional weight she had been carrying for the past months had left her body, she was now lighter… free. Noticing the shift in her demeanour, Jack tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Let's get you to bed."

Without any form of resistance, Rose let him walk her back to her bedroom, her body growing more tired every step she took. Jack nodded, his heart softening as he watched Rose, her face still pale and drawn from the strain of reliving everything she'd tried so hard to bury. Gently, he helped her lie back on the pillows, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. The edges of sleep were already tugging at her, her eyelids heavy.

As he started to turn away, her hand reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. "Please stay," she whispered, barely audible, her voice almost lost in the quiet room. The vulnerability in her voice pulled at him, making him pause.

He took a breath and nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright, Rose. I'll stay."

He pulled up a chair beside her bed, settling in and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The room was silent, except for the soft sound of her breathing, which slowly grew steadier as she drifted closer to sleep. Jack kept his gaze on her, watching the tension gradually leave her face, the weight of all she had carried easing, if only for a little while.

The sunlight streamed softly through the curtains as Rose stirred awake. Her body felt heavy, her mind clouded, the events of the previous day lingering like a storm on the horizon. For a moment, she stayed there, staring at the ceiling, willing herself to push through the weight pressing on her chest. From somewhere in the house, Evelyn's bright laughter rang out, followed closely by Grace's cries. Life went on, even as she felt like hers had been cracked wide open.

Slowly, Rose swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting there for a long moment, grounding herself in the sounds of the house. She glanced toward the window, her gaze catching on the figures of Jack and Mark outside. They were working near the barn, Jack's frame tense, his movements deliberate but lacking his usual lightness. Even from this distance, Rose could tell he looked tired, the toll of yesterday etched into the lines of his face. A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. He'd stayed with her when she needed him most, and now he was shouldering more than he deserved. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself before standing and moving to her wardrobe to get ready for the day.

When Rose descended the stairs, the smell of freshly baked bread and the hum of morning conversation greeted her. She rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. But as she entered the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks, surprised to find David sitting at the table with Sarah, a warm smile on his face.

"Rose," Sarah said, her tone unusually bright. "Look who dropped by."

David's eyes lit up when he saw her, and he stood quickly, nearly knocking over his chair. In his hands was a bouquet of wildflowers—vivid purples, yellows, and whites, tied together with a simple ribbon.

"Good morning, Rose," he said warmly, stepping toward her. "These are for you. I thought… after everything yesterday, you might like them."

Rose blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. She glanced at Sarah, who offered her an encouraging smile, then back at David. His earnest expression left her at a loss for words.

"That's… very kind of you, David," she managed, taking the bouquet. The flowers were fragrant and freshly picked, their delicate beauty a stark contrast to the heaviness in her chest.

"Just wanted to make sure you're alright," David said, his voice full of sincerity. "Yesterday must have been terrifying."

"It was," Rose admitted quietly, her fingers brushing the petals absently. She felt Sarah's watchful eyes on her, but she avoided looking her way, unsure of what her face might reveal.

David frowned slightly, concern flickering in his eyes, but he didn't press. "Well, I just wanted to check on you," he said after a beat, his tone softening again. "And if you're up for it, maybe we could take a walk? It's a beautiful day."

Rose hesitated, her heart sinking as her mind flickered back to Jack, to the words she'd spilled the night before. But David's kindness was earnest. "Alright," she said finally.

David opened the door for Rose, letting her step out into the bright sunshine. The morning was cool, a slight breeze ruffling the flowers she still held in her hands. Sarah had lingered in the doorway, watching them with a subtle smile, before giving Rose an encouraging nod.

"It'll do you good," Sarah had said softly, more to Rose than David. "It's not too hot today. Enjoy yourselves."

Now, as they walked across the yard, Rose felt an odd tightness in her chest. She scanned the open spaces and the barn, her eyes searching for Jack almost instinctively. But the yard was strangely quiet, apart from the clucking of chickens and the distant sound of Mark calling to the horses. Jack was nowhere to be found.

"Are you alright?" David's voice cut through her thoughts, gentle but probing.

"Yes," Rose replied quickly, forcing a smile. "Just… thinking about yesterday."

David nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "It's a wonder you're out and about today. You must be stronger than you think."

Rose chuckled softly but didn't respond, letting the conversation fade into silence as they strolled toward the edge of the yard and onto the dirt path that led to the fields.

The countryside was lush and alive, the greens and yellows of summer blending harmoniously with the azure sky. Birds chirped in the distance, and the soft rustle of the breeze through the grass was the only other sound between them for a while.

"I hope I'm not overstepping," David said after a long pause, his tone cautious. "But you seemed… different at the lake yesterday. Before your accident, I mean. More distant than usual. I'd like to think we're friends, Rose. You can talk to me, you know."

Rose glanced at him, his earnest expression making her heart ache. "Oh, it was nothing, really. Just… old memories, I suppose."

"Memories can be heavy," David said. "But sometimes sharing them makes them easier to carry."

Rose offered a faint smile but didn't elaborate. They walked a bit further before David stopped at a large oak tree, its shade stretching invitingly over a patch of soft grass. "Shall we sit?" he suggested.

She hesitated but then nodded, settling down on the grass. David leaned back against the trunk, watching her carefully.

"You're an enigma, Rose," he said with a chuckle. "When you first came here, I thought you'd be like all the others who pass through—, unreachable, gone before you know it. But you've stayed, and there's something about you that makes people want to know you better."

Rose felt heat rise to her cheeks, unsure how to respond. "I'm not that interesting, I promise."

"I think you're wrong," David replied softly. He reached out, plucking a small wildflower from the grass. "You've got a story in your eyes, Rose. I'd like to hear it someday."

Rose's chest tightened. David's words were kind, but they felt too close, too prying. She glanced away, her mind wandering again, unbidden, to Jack. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about her.

The sun had risen higher in the sky, and the heat of the day was beginning to press in on them as they made their way back toward the house. David kept talking, his voice light and easy, recounting the stories of his childhood, of the family business, of his travels to the big cities with his father. Rose found herself listening intently, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts. His words were like a river, carrying her along, and she didn't have to offer much in return—just the occasional smile or nod.

For once, she wasn't the one holding back, guarding secrets or drowning in memories. She could simply let him talk, and it was... nice.

David was charming, that much was true. He had a way of making everything sound interesting, from the boring details of his father's bookkeeping to his own awkward attempts at ballroom dancing. By the time they reached the edge of the property, the sun had climbed even higher in the sky, and the heat became almost oppressive. Rose wiped her forehead, feeling the sweat trickle down her back.

"Think we should head back?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

David looked up at the sky and then back at her. "Probably for the best. I didn't realize how hot it was getting."

They turned and walked back toward the house, the path now feeling longer than before, the air thick and heavy. The moment they stepped into the yard, the comforting sight of the porch came into view, and there, sitting with a basket of potatoes on her lap, was Sarah.

Sarah looked up and smiled as they approached. "Well, look at you two. You've got more color on your face, Rose. That walk must have done you good."

Rose returned the smile, but it felt a little forced. "Yes, it was nice," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She looked over at David, who had fallen quiet, no longer his usual talkative self.

David stepped forward, the charm still in his eyes but a bit more subdued. "I have to be going. But it was good to have a walk with you, Rose. And I'm glad you're feeling a bit better."

Rose gave him a warm smile, though part of her felt a pang of guilt for enjoying herself when so much was still left unresolved. "Thank you, David. It was nice to get out of the house."

He tipped his hat to Sarah, gave Rose one last look, and then started toward the gate. Sarah watched their guest disappear off their grounds before she looked at Rose. She didn't say much about what happened the day before, she simply smiled. That sort of smile of an older sister, filled with both worry and reassurance. It was a gesture to let her know she was there.

"Have you eaten anything yet, Rose?" Sarah asked.

"No, not yet. But I am not really hungry anyways." Rose responded softly, her eyes lingered everywhere but Sarah.

"Well, you have to eat, dear. I am going to prepare us a good lunch," She then followed Rose's gaze, "I might look for Jack too. I am afraid he has melted in the sun."

"I'll go," Rose quickly said, "I'll go fetch him."

Rose walked slowly towards the barn, the sun beating down on her back as she left Sarah on the porch. Her mind was still swirling, and the events of the last few days felt like a heavy weight pressing against her chest. As she rounded the corner of the barn, she found Jack standing by a water trough, splashing his face with water. His shirt was untucked, and his sleeves rolled up, his posture still slightly stiff but with a relaxed edge that only came after a long day of hard work. The sunlight caught his hair in a way that made it look almost golden, and Rose felt a pang of something she couldn't quite name. Her heartbeat quickened slightly, but she brushed it aside.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" he asked, wiping his hands on his pants as he looked up at her. His voice was casual, but there was an underlying note of concern, something Rose couldn't help but pick up on.

She offered him a small smile, her gaze dropping to his hands for a moment before she met his eyes again. "I prefer to go on a walk with you," she said, her voice almost a whisper, as if she hadn't meant to speak the words aloud. She quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to her face.

Jack's expression shifted slightly, the teasing lightness in his eyes fading as he took a step closer to her. The silence between them grew heavy, thick with unsaid things. He paused for a moment, then asked, his voice softer than usual, "How are you feeling after yesterday?"

Rose took a deep breath, her gaze wandering to the barn floor for a moment as she collected her thoughts. "I'm feeling better," she admitted, her voice steady but quiet. "A little tired, but better."

Jack didn't say anything at first, just stood there for a moment, his hands resting on his hips as he looked at her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. He seemed to be trying to gauge if she was truly okay, if she was really telling the truth.

After a long pause, Rose swallowed, her throat feeling dry, and added, "Sarah wants you to come inside for lunch. She said she is afraid you've melted out here in the sun."

Jack let out a small chuckle at that, rubbing the back of his neck. "I might have. But I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Alright," she said softly. "I'll tell Sarah."

As Rose turned to walk back toward the house, her steps light and purposeful, an unexpected urge rose within her. It wasn't just the sunlight or the weight of the silence between them, but something deep within herself, an impulse she could no longer ignore. Her heart raced, and before she could talk herself out of it, she pivoted on her heel, her breath coming a little faster as she rushed back toward Jack.

He hadn't seen her coming, and when he finally looked up, there was a flash of pure confusion in his eyes. She didn't give him a chance to speak before she reached him, standing so close now that she could hear his breath, feel the tension radiating from his body.

Without a second thought, Rose smiled—soft, fleeting, but full of certainty—and then she kissed him. It was quick, just a light press of her lips against his. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, as if testing the waters, but it was enough to make her heart beat wildly in her chest. It wasn't a grand confession or a declaration of love, but something simpler. A recognition of what she felt. Jack stood still for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his body unmoving, almost as if he didn't know how to respond. Then he exhaled slowly, the tension breaking, and his gaze softened.

He leaned in slightly, searching her eyes, and in a quiet, almost teasing voice, he spoke. "Please, don't tell me you're going to regret it again."

Rose's smile widened, the warmth of the moment flooding through her. She shook her head, the certainty in her voice matching the feeling she had in her chest. "Not in a million years."

And with that, Jack didn't hesitate. His hand moved to her face, cupping it gently as he leaned in to kiss her back, his lips capturing hers with a passion that made the world fall away. This time, there was no hesitation. There was only the warmth of the kiss, the closeness, the feelings that both of them had been trying to suppress for too long. When they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Rose didn't say anything right away. She simply looked at him, her heart still pounding from the intensity of the moment. Jack, his expression softer than she had ever seen it, smiled at her.

"Good," he murmured, his thumb lightly brushing her cheek.