Violet smiles and quietly begins singing.
It is hard to kiss your sweetheart
When the last kiss means goodbye
You are grieving all the while
No matter how you try
Although your lips are smiling
From your heart there comes a sigh
It is hard to kiss your sweetheart
When the last kiss means goodbye
Her voice is hauntingly beautiful, but this song is an absolute stab to my heart. I can’t help but feel guilty as she sings. She doesn’t know what is coming for her and how quickly it approaches. She doesn’t know that she will lose her sweetheart, that their last kiss will mean goodbye.
Selfishly, I also think of Charlie. Though I have not kissed him, and that’s certainly not for a lack of desire to, our goodbye is also drawing near. He may never speak to me again, and I understand his reasons for that, but I can’t help but grieve what I’ve never had. I will lose him, and Violet, sooner than I am ready for. Sometimes life is unexplainable. You meet people for a reason and a season. Some are temporary and some, if you’re lucky, are permanent. I know in my heart that I met both Violet and Charlie for a reason. And maybe they are temporary, but the lessons they both have taught me are permanent. They have both left handprints on my heart and that is something that time and distance can never take away.
We are interrupted before I can awkwardly ask any more questions. Sarah walks up to Violet and me, and does her best public impression of servitude. “Miss Alice, it’s time to get you ready for dinner. Mr. Turner has already returned to the cabin.” I look beyond Sarah and see John approaching to collect Violet.
Violet looks at the sun settling into golden hour. “Oh goodness, we’ve completely lost track of time.” I was so wrapped up in conversation with her, I never heard the dinner call. “I’ll see you at dinner, Alice.” She smiles and nods to both of us before departing with John.
Chapter Eighteen
Mirrorball by Taylor Swift
April 13, 1912
Sarah and I make our way back to the cabin to get ready for the evening. As we pass by one of the first-class lounge areas, I see Charlie out of the corner of my eye. He appears to be carrying a box of clean glassware toward the supply closet next to the lounge. He notices me as well, but quickly looks away. I want to speak with him, to hear his voice. I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself. My heart is clouding logic and reason.
“Sarah, go on ahead. I want to grab a book from the reading room for later. I’ll join you momentarily, okay?” I make up any excuse to find myself alone, and luckily, it works. She nods, although I have a feeling she thinks I’m up to something and continues down the hall without me. I quickly check my surroundings, confirming no one is within eyesight, and duck into the supply room Charlie entered moments ago.
I enter the small room and quickly shut the door behind me. Charlie doesn’t even turn around at first. He seems to just assume another steward has entered the room as well and continues to go about his work. It isn’t until he hears me latch the lock on the door that he becomes suspicious. He takes a deep breath in, and I realize he can smell my perfume. He must know it’s me.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says coldly, without turning around. “If people saw…” His voice trails off as he stops stacking the glassware.
“No one saw,” I promise him. “I don’t care if they did. I just… I had to see you.”
He swivels to face me. “Did you need something? Miss Murphy, isn’t it?” His tone is lifeless, all business as he pretends we are now strangers, nothing more than a steward and a passenger.
“I deserved that.” I am painfully aware of the hurt I have caused him. He’s trying so hard to come across as unemotional, but I can see the pain in his eyes. He may imbue his voice with coldness, but his eyes give away his true feelings. I deserve every sting or barb his words could hurl at me, and I’m prepared to take them as a deserved lashing. Instead, he just stares, as if he cannot bear to inflict pain on me, even though I have drawn the first blow.
“I have to get back to work,” is all he can quietly muster before he attempts to move past me toward the door. I grab him by the hand to stop him and he inhales sharply.
“Charlie, please.” He stops moving and locks his eyes into mine as if my touch and my voice calling his name have the same effect on him as it does on me.
“Just let me get this out, and then I’ll leave you alone. I’ll stay away. I promise.” He doesn’t answer me, but he also doesn’t cut me off. I take that as a silent indication that I can continue. “Look, you don’t need to accept my apology, or even believe it. But you need to hear it. Charlie, I’m… I’m so sorry.” My voice cracks as I shrug. I inhale deeply, attempting to regain composure over my emotions. “It was never my intention to hurt you or to burden you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that, nor could I ever ask for it. I don’t expect anything from you. And I know these are all just words to you now, and maybe you find it impossible to believe anything I could have to say after such dishonesty. And I deserve that. I know I do.”
I take a step closer toward him, trying to find his eyes so that he may see my seriousness. “But Charlie, if there was anything, even justonething, you could choose to believe, please let it be this: what we’ve shared the last few days and the feelings I have for you, that hasneverbeen a lie. I just need you to know that.”
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I can’t bear to cry in front of him, to make him somehow feel even worse than I already have. I don’t want him to feel obligated to say anything just because I got emotional. He has every right to feel betrayed or angry, and I don’t want to take that away from him. I quickly leave the closet before he can say a word. I’m not even sure if he was going to respond at all. I just had to get away before I completely broke down.
I hurry down the hallway so that I am out of sight before he exits the closet. I enter through my private room of the suite, hoping to avoid Ben if he is in the sitting room. I just need a moment to myself to collect my thoughts. I lean against the door behind me and begin to fully cry. My solitude is interrupted when Sarah steps out from the bath facilities and notices me.
“Ali?” Before I can even speak or pull myself together, she walks toward me with her arms outstretched. “Oh, Ali. Come here.” She pulls me into a hug and instead of going limp, I wrap my arms around her and just allow myself to be held.
