Jack And Rose: Til This Dying Day

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*April 14, 1917*

Rose: Hi, I am the editor for New York's Daily Journals and I...

When she turned around, she was speechless. There, standing only a few feet away was the man she long thought was dead. 'But how can this be? It's impossible!'

But subconsciously, she knew! Knew it can't be a dream!
Well, at least, she hoped it wasn't.

"Oh my god! Jack!"

She didn't want to wake him- not yet. They'd talked so late into the night, that she couldn't even remember when she'd fallen asleep. She had poured her soul out to Jack last night- they both had. The stories of the last eight years- the struggles and the successes. But most of all- the empty place in each of their hearts, that had finally been settled.

Jack told her about being crippled for a while and she told him about Maxine and Baby James that she calls "Jimmy."
She told him about all those lonely months without him and how miserable she'd been.

"When I first got on that lifeboat, the officers placed the baby in my arms and asked me to take care of it. I didn't know what to do Jack!"

Jack: Shh, it's alright Rose!
It's gonna be o.k. now!

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Well, it wasn't eight years, but it felt like it.

Jack: All those years had been hard on me. For a few months, I lost my passion for art because it was hard for me to walk! I had practically lost the feeling in both legs! It was very tempting to run away, you know? To forget about the pain for once!

He held both of her face tightly. "But you know what really crippled me? Losing you Rose, losing you!"

Jack: Losing you came with a price. I lost my inspiration.

Rose: I've always had visions of you and me going to the Santa Monica Pier. We would just walk along the beach and talk for hours. About anything and everything.

Jack: How would you like to make it really happen?

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Jack: I came this close to losing my dreams and I'm not willing to do it again!