GENRE: Romance/Historical Fiction

April 15th, 1913

Someone knocks on the door. Thomas and I were not expecting anyone to visit this early into our marriage. Everyone agreed to let us settle into our new lives together before intruding on our peace with whatever gossip they had or new jobs they could entice us into.

That left the steelworkers. It would not surprise me that he would be needed—and it was more money for us, so I could hardly complain if they took him away for a few hours.

However, when I swung the door open, standing in front of me was a dapper-looking Sam.

My breath caught in my throat as a rush of emotions flooded through my heart. In less than a second, all the work I'd done over the year he vanished from my life unravelled, and my heart shattered into pieces again. I blinked back tears from my eyes, steeling myself.

Sam looked different from the last time I'd seen him in England. His expensive-looking frock coat billowed out behind him, creasing in different ways before settling. Had he been running? The perspiration on his forehead confirmed it. His golden hair was neatly combed instead of the wild, overgrown mess I'd come to love during our first weeks together. He returned to me as a man, no longer the boy I grew up with.

Expectantly, those pale blue eyes bored into me. They were enlightened by the dimpled smile spreading across his face. His joy was almost infectious. Almost.

"Sally," he whispered hoarsely between laboured breaths. The once deep and sure voice became tinged in disbelief and hope. I hated that I would shatter whatever hope he had left in him. Then again, he already did so with me.

I didn't know what I was doing as my hand flew to his cheek and smacked him, a cold fury taking over my body. I knew it was unbecoming of a lady—hardly the proper etiquette to show a visitor my mother would chide—but I couldn't control it. I glared at the red mark left on his downturned face, his features moulding into flickers of different emotions.

"What was that sound, Sally?" Thomas called from the bedroom.

Whilst I fiddled with my wedding ring, forcing Sam to notice it, I called back, "Nothing. I just tripped over my skirts. I'm not hurt."

"You lied?" Sam asked after a long moment of silence, regaining some composure.

I nodded. "Yes, and you should leave," I ordered rather than requested.

He bowed his head, his face slackened. "At least give me the chance to explain," he began, taking a brave step forward.

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms over myself. "Why should I?"

"Things have changed. I understand that." His gaze fell on my golden wedding ring wrapped around my finger. "All I need is a second chance."

Tapping my foot impatiently against the loose floorboards of the apartment, I considered him for a moment. The new clothes. The soot-free face. The golden tan. Maybe a small part of me was curious to hear about his sudden rise to wealth—and the reason I hadn't seen him in a year, allowing me to think there was a mistake on the list of those who survived the tragedy. And of all things he returns on the one-year anniversary of the sinking? My anger at him was understated.

Finally, I agreed with a single bow of my head. I opened the door wider for him to wander into my home. He glanced around before taking a seat on a rat-eaten armchair. Sam immediately looked out of place in the rickety apartment.

Following him inside, I took a seat across from him. The silence hanging between us was deafening.

Thomas burst from the bedroom, his warm, brown eyes falling on our visitor. His thin black eyebrows narrowed. He readjusted the flat cap atop his head, then pulled at his tweed waistcoat with the makeshift patches of fabric to hide the holes.

"Thomas," I started, gesturing to Sam. "This is an old acquaintance of mine. Sam Nelson."

Sam held out his hand to Thomas. "A pleasure to meet you, Thomas."

He glanced at Sam's scarred hand for a moment too long, before turning to me. "Where did you meet this one, then?" He inclined his head, but I didn't miss his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Before I could answer, Sam intervened. "I'm an old friend of the family."

Thomas turned to him and nodded. The flash of anger in his eyes went unnoticed by our unexpected guest. However, the tremor running through my fingers didn't. I could hardly offer a reassuring smile to Sam, let alone stop my shaking hands as Thomas' hand fell upon my shoulder, his fingernails digging into the thin linen of my blouse. I tried not to squirm.

"How long have you known the Bedbrook's?" my husband enquired slowly, each word a poisoned dart trying to pollute the truth with whatever lie he had already conjured up in his head.

Sam glanced at the ceiling for a moment. "Since I was a child. I would often travel from England to New York with my family whenever we had the chance," he answered, his attention snapping back towards Thomas with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "However, I have been unable to do so in the last year. I was given an apprenticeship by one of my late father's employers. He has treated me as his own."

I could feel Sam's gaze on me during his explanation. It was as though he was throwing the change of circumstances in my face. Though, Sam was the least of my worries.

Thomas hummed. His chin rose slightly higher, as though he was only just realising the straight-backed posture of his newfound adversary. "Anyway, I'm heading to the steelworks," he informed me, kissing my forehead. His fingers dug in tighter to my shoulder.

This time, I couldn't hide the wince of pain. I hissed under my breath, his large hand patting where his nails once were. It caused further pain as I clenched my eyes shut.

Before I could process the words enough to ask about it, the door slammed behind him. I jumped. My breath hitched. At the same time, my heartbeat hammered against the walls of my body. Then, every breath became more difficult. Each exhale burned my lungs whilst flashes of the last couple of weeks flitted through my mind at a rapid speed. I couldn't stop it. Every painful memory, every sting from words like daggers, every second in this awful apartment all came flooding back.

Was this what my life would be reduced to?

No one could help me. No one, but the person who was kneeling in front of me in the blink of an eye. He was all I had left in my life. Everyone else was gone.

I didn't even need to ask. Sam's warm hands held my cheeks, grounding me to the present. My eyes darted around the room until they met his warm gaze.

Everything that was left between us flooded back.

Our childhood rendezvous when our families arranged a voyage to or from New York and England. One day, Sam dared me to climb up the tree in the gardens of my childhood home. He was unconvinced that I would be able to do it because of my gender. I proved him wrong, but I broke my ankle on the way down. Since then, he always respected me—and protected me.

As we grew older, our excursions and adventures were chaperoned. Sam was beneath my station, but it never mattered. The attraction was clear from our walks in the park, the days we would hide in the woodland away from prying eyes, and the stolen moments in the servants' quarters where he would be working. It was only when he was finally granted permission to court me that we could stop hiding.

Then, the most painful memory to think back to was over a year ago. He finally saved up enough money to travel to New York. His excitement to be travelling on the unsinkable ship echoed in the letter I received days before the voyage. I was overjoyed whilst I counted down the days, hours, and minutes until Sam's return. I imagined the day I would find him getting off the Titanic a lot during the time between the departure and the arrival.

But then the news came.

TITANIC SINKS FOUR HOURS AFTER HITTING ICEBERG; 866 RESCUED BY CARPATHIA, PROBABLY 1250 PERISH; ISMAY SAFE, MRS. ASTOR MAYBE, NOTED NAMES MISSING

It was plastered all over the newspapers. It was all anyone would be talking about, our social circle unknowingly rubbing more salt into an already open wound. Father excused me the moment it was brought up. Sometimes, I would flee into the gardens to scream and sob freely, the wretched sounds shaking the wilderness surrounding our home. My heart shattered into pieces.

Suddenly, hope stumbled into our home as my father was granted permission to look at the names of those who survived. Sam's name was there. Clearer than the blue sky settling over the harbour. However, when we raced to the dock to find him, there was no Sam Nelson. We scoured all of New York. Nothing.

By the end of the week, I was a shell of myself. I locked myself away, allowing the remnants of my heart to break around me. When did the tears finally stop?

The last year flew by in a blur of chaos. The deaths, the engagement, the marriage, the bankruptcy of our estate. We were left with nothing. We were ruined.

The sinking of the Titanic and Sam's disappearance destroyed my life. They created an exhausting spiral of events. None of this would have happened if he just came back to me.

But now, Sam was in front of me.

He reminded me of a simpler time filled with summer kisses and made-up adventures. There was nothing to worry about when I was with him because he would always protect me from the cruelty of the world.

Then, he left me...

"You left me," I sobbed. "You weren't here. You left me!"

He averted his gaze. "I know," he said. "I had to so I could come back to you. I thought you would wait for me."

"I couldn't. So much happened while you were gone," my voice trembled as I dug my nails into the chair. "Too many decisions and none of them will bring anyone back!"

I wanted to throw my fists against his chest, to hurt him like he hurt me. But what good would it do? It wouldn't unwrite my parents' deaths, the marriage of convenience, or the bankruptcy we faced. It would just push Sam further out of reach when I needed a friend—someone familiar—now more than ever.

"Sally, what do you mean bring them back?" he asked slowly, his beautiful ocean eyes becoming glassy.

"They're gone, Sam," I spat, my voice rising to an uncontrollable screech. "My parents, the estate, everything! Gone!"

The echoes gave way to a cold, dead silence. I waited for the neighbours to knock and make a noise complaint. No knock came.

Hours seemed to pass before Sam nodded his head slowly, his eyes becoming glassy. As his gaze lowered, they narrowed at something on my arm. His fingers grazed the angry marks on my skin, tracing every bump gently. Finally, his facial features softened, slackening into the numbness carved into his chest.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," he murmured, pressing his lips absently over each mark.

It was like old times. Every mark seemed to fade away with each brush of his lips. However, he couldn't make them all magically disappear forever.

"I would have told you to take the apprenticeship," I whispered into the silence between us. "You know I would have."

He shook his head, averting his gaze. "I should have come back to you and told you before leaving," he murmured, his words barely audible.

"Why didn't you?" The words blurted from my mouth before I could stop them. My fingers grazed my lips where they fell from, hardly able to believe they were out loud.

Sam chuckled. "It was a position that needed filling immediately. I was going to write, but I felt an explanation would have been better in person. I was wrong." He bowed his head, a single teardrop falling from his long eyelashes.

"Maybe not completely." I twiddled the golden band around my finger until it came off, laying it down on the coffee table. "We could run away together," I breathed, something fluttering in my chest for the first time in the last year.

Lifting his head slowly, Sam's gaze met mine. "We could, but you have a life here."

I swallowed hard, trying to think of the best way to convey what I wanted.

"Sam, I want a life with you. It is all I have ever wanted. I'll be damned if a silly golden band stands in my way of that," I asserted, holding my head up high as I folded my arms over my chest.

He gazed at me for a long time, thinking. I could hear the cogs and wheels turning as he weighed the possibilities. Would running away ruin our chances of being together? What about the implications of marrying a divorced woman? How would I become divorced? How about the future? What would it hold for us? Will there be any trials to overcome? Goodness, what about his employer and beneficiary? What would this do for Sam's relationship with him?

Suddenly, this was becoming a bad idea.  

Finally, he laughed and wrapped his arms around me. He clung to me for dear life. It felt nice like this was where I was meant to end up all along. When he pulled away, he was a beam of energy and of a future I thought I'd missed out on. However, here he was again and I wanted nothing else than to move out of the black-and-white drab of my current life and into Sam's world of colour. 

"There will be many who want to tear us apart," he began. "Thomas may very well try to come back into your life in the future. I cannot say running away will not be hard. I cannot say it is the right thing to do, but I can say that I will be beside you every step of the way." 

I twiddled the wedding band around my finger until it slipped off. Gently, I placed it down on the coffee table with a tinkling sound. It echoed for a moment before settling into the silence. 

"I'm ready," I whispered. I was unable to find my voice to let him understand how much this meant to me and how much I really wanted to leave the confines of this New York apartment. 

"I will warn you, my apprenticeship takes me on many expeditions across the world," he said whilst offering me his arm to take. I gladly linked my arm in his without a moment's thought. "I may need to take you along with me." 

I giggled as I allowed him to lead me towards the door. "I don't mind that. I have always wanted to travel the world." 

Silently, I watched as the door swung closed on the crummy New York apartment, my eyes catching glimpses of the golden band glinting as sunlight streamed through the windows. It closed with a click, ending another chapter of my life. 

— Written for the April '23 contest held by Wattpad on the @/HistoricalFiction profile —