Titanic ~ Unsinkable Love

~{ FOURTY FOUR }~

Yooo here we go again!!! Next week you're having the last chapter and epilogue (which i'm working on!). I hope you enjoy it!!! ❤️

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Devon, England. April 15th, 1917.

~{ narrator's pov }~

Eventually, weeks become months, months become years. Jack and Rose made each day count. Jack's name became successful in the south portion of Devon, his art recognized and admired now by more people than ever in his life. Rose had finally been able to join the theatres, getting a fine job and good sustainability from it. Their life was simple, lovable. They had made lots of friends during the years, including their neighbours Lucio and Camila, who used to gather at each other's house and make dinner together, as Lucio had great Italian cooking skills; plus, their daughter loved Lucio's food. Josephine, who soon would become an older sister, was a precious four year old girl. Her wild curls reached her waist, and she loved building sand castles on the shore with her parents, after school. She had a contagious laugh, an admirable imagination and, perhaps a bit stubborn sometimes... - or, you could say, that she had a strong opinion and always fought for it.

Some day, a letter found Rose. Margaret Brown's letter. Intrigued, she sat on the simple, beige couch in the living room and ripped the envelope, fetching the folded paper inside. Her husband was working by that time of the day, and her daughter would come back from school within an hour. Actually, Rose was supposed to be at the theatre as well, but due to her conditions, she should remain at home. The house became too silent by those three hours, which became awkward, since she was used to her talkative child and the companion of her husband.

Her eyes carefully skimmed the letter, dated two months ago. As her eyes ran through the words, written with a rushed cursive letter, her heart could've dropped from her chest, perhaps, with an alarming and unexpected guilty joy. It's not like she hadn't thought of that day before, she did, and guessed that it would take longer than it did. Caledon Hockley had been shot, right in the head. Oddly, Margaret didn't specify what- who caused his death, but Rose wouldn't care anyway. There was no chance of seeing him ever again in her lifetime, and she felt guilty for being glad that the possibilities of him forcing to cross her path were now zero.

Plus, there was another folded sheet of paper on the envelope. With a fleet move and trembling hands, she unfolded it and ran her eyes through the heading. She gasped. It was from Ruth. The letter said the old woman would like to know, exactly, where her daughter lived. Ruth also wrote that she would like to meet her granddaughter, that she would endeavour to play a part in the girl's life. She continued, expressing that she would like to keep in touch with Rose, at least. Along with that, she clarified that she would never approve of her relationship with the young, unsuccessful artist, which made her a very disgruntled mother.

When Rose finished reading the letter, she threw it on the couch with a quick move, rubbing her face as she inhaled deeply. Perhaps, that was too much to digest at once. So, she went outside to breathe in some fresh air, watching the speckled white clouds in the sky as her mind leaped from thought to thought.

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The waves crashed near the shore as Josephine built her castle, swearing that it would become big enough for a princess to live inside it as she stacked more and more soaked sand at the top of it. Rose observed her, a weak smile playing on her lips at her sight, but her mind was still stuck on the previous hours. Jack, who helped the little girl with her castle, eventually noticed the fazed expression on his wife's face, soon came over and sat by her side, questioning what was going on.

"I received two letters this evening." She sighed, her gaze set on the besmirched sky, with shades of lilac and indigo blue. He kept looking at her, patiently waiting for her to continue speaking. "The first one, from Molly Brown. She wrote and wished nice things for us, and then she announced that Caledon Hockley had been shot, two months ago."

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows, "Damn... Would it be bad if I say that I'm... maybe, glad?"

Rose snickered, shaking her head as her gaze dropped to her hands, "Well, I would've already turned into a horrible person, then,"

"Why is mummy a horrible person?" Josephine's voice intervened as she staggered in her run towards the couple.

Jack and Rose looked at each other, silently communicating what they should say.

"Your mummy is not a horrible person." Jack brought her to his lap, "We were just... Kidding. Saying it, but not meaning it." He attempted an explanation, but her quizful face was still there.

"Were you lying?" Josephine questioned again, the confusion clear in her blue eyes.

"Yea– Josie, listen: this is a very bad thing, and you must never do that, okay?" Rose scolded, making a mental note to not say things similar to that when near her. "You remember what happens to those who don't tell the truth, don't you?" Once, they agreed on telling her some fairytales to help in her education, in an easier and fun way to comprehend what's right and wrong.

The toddler nodded, and before she could question something else, Jack exclaimed: "I think a wave is taking your castle back to the sea!"

Josephine quickly turned her head to the castle, now half destroyed by the water. She gasped, bustling back to it, ready to start over.

"We should never say that near her again." Rose giggled, now using a lower voice, almost a whisper.

"Indeed. She's a clever girl." Jack grinned, observing their daughter focused on stacking the sand anew. A brief, crisp breeze blew, refreshing his thoughts. "So, the letters..." He remembered, leaning towards her so they could keep speaking in a lower tone.

She turned her head, facing his caring eyes, "The second letter, though, is a bit controversial. It's from Ruth. She wrote that she wanted to meet her," Rose softly tilted her head to Josephine. "That she would like to know where we are living, perhaps to visit her and play a part in her life."

Jack gawked while Rose told the rest. They decided, then, to reply to both of them, but not allowing and giving Ruth the honour to visit them, after all she had done in their lives. Maybe, someday they would change their minds, but by now, the wound still wasn't fully healed.

Later on, they helped little Josie to finish building her sand castle, their hands grubby with dirt, but they couldn't care less. Rose would never get tired of noticing, when the first pale gleams of the full moon highlighted her daughter's features, that she was a straight copy of her father. The golden strands which eventually fell in her face were just like Jack's, aside from the curls. The ocean, cerulean blue of her eyes, were as piercing as his. She wondered if she was capable of loving her family, soon to be growing, more than she already did.

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Well, I thought of showing a bit of their lives slowing getting together. I hope you enjoyed it! thank you so much for reading so far!!! don't forget to vote if you liked it ( this is only a reminder, not an order tho :) ).
love, liaxame.