Meg stared down at Charlie through tear-blurred eyes, her body heaving, each breath a struggle. “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she whispered. “I should have made you get on the boat. I should have prayed harder.” She began to realize there was nothing more that she could say, nothing she could do, and the feel of Jonathan’s hand on her back indicated he thought she needed to go. She couldn’t imagine walking away from Charlie again. She didn’t think she could do it. She began to wish she’d stayed aboard the Titanic as well.
“Come along, Meg,” Jonathan said quietly. “Ruth will be missing you.”
Of course, there was Ruth. She needed to be strong for Ruth. She nodded, though she still could not tear her gaze from his handsome face. Even in death, his skin pale, his lips blue, he was still so very handsome. “I can’t let go yet, Jonathan,” she said quietly.
“All right then,” he said quietly. “I’ll… go talk to Daniel and Kelly.”
Meg realized this had to be incredibly difficult for Jonathan as well. Perhaps he needed to be alone, to mourn in his own way. And that was fine. He could go off to mourn if that’s what he needed. But she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
She leaned in next to Charlie’s ear and whispered, “I love you, Charlie,” and pressed her lips against his, lingering long enough so that she would never forget the feel of him.
She was just about to tear herself away when she realized not only were his lips warm, they seemed to be growing warmer. At first, she thought it must be her imagination, but then she realized it wasn’t—and he was trying to kiss her back. She pulled away just a bit to look at him and saw his eyelid twitch. “Charlie?” she asked, cautiously. His reply was another eyelid twitch. “Charlie!” she said again.
One of the nurses was pulling on her arm now. “Miss Westmoreland, he’s gone. You need to accept that.”
“No, he just moved his eyelid,” she insisted.
“I’m sure it’s just a muscle spasm,” she said quietly.
As she watched, his eyelids began to flutter. “Get the doctor,” she ordered.
“Miss…”
“Get the doctor!”
She did as she was told, and Meg watched as Charlie attempted to open his eyes. Instinctively, she tried the one thing that had worked so well last time and pressed her lips against his again. She was certain he was trying to kiss her back this time for sure. She heard the door open behind her and momentarily pulled away to say to the doctor, “Check his pulse again.”
There was a deep sigh as he crossed over to the bed. “Miss Westmoreland, the body twitches and spasms as the tissues begin to expire,” he explained.
“Please, just check.”
The doctor took Charlie’s wrist in his hand, and immediately his countenance changed. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“He’s alive, isn’t he?” Meg asked, the faintest flicker of hope still before her.
“Yes, he is,” the doctor assured her. “In fact, I think this is the strongest his pulse has been since they brought him in. Nurse, let’s change these warmers,” he said, gently laying Charlie’s arm back on the bed.
Meg leaned back in next to his ear. She could distinctly hear him breathing now. “Charlie,” she said quietly. “Thank you. Thank you for coming back to me. Please, don’t ever leave me again. I couldn’t bear it. Now, please focus on getting better. You must find a way to stay with me.”
The nurses were bustling about, following the doctor’s instructions. Meg moved slightly out of the way when she needed to, but she never let go of his hand, and by the time they were done, he had quite a bit of color back in his face. His lips were no longer blue, and the fluttering in his eyelids was substantial.
Meg sat on the edge of his bed, praying softly, holding his hand, waiting for what seemed like an eternity. She truly felt like this was worse than the hours she spent in the lifeboat. The miracle was finally brought to complete fruition when Charlie whispered her name. Eyes widened, she leaned in next to his ear. “Charlie, I’m right here. Can you open your eyes?” she asked.
His eyelids fluttered and then there they were, those gorgeous green eyes. He looked a bit confused at first, but she didn’t give him an opportunity to say anything before she kissed him, and despite his potential delirium, he returned the kiss, squeezing her hand as he did so.
“Oh, my God, Charlie,” she said as she finally pulled away. “We lost you. You were gone.”
He gazed up at her, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Well, I’m here now,” he assured her.
Once again she was fighting back tears, but this time they were tears of joy. “Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”
“I promise,” he said quietly. “Will you do the same?”
“Yes, of course,” she said as he slowly reached up to brush a wayward tear from her cheek.
“And when we reach America, will you be my wife at last?”
“Nothing in the world could stop me.”
She leaned in and kissed him again and the feel of his arms around her assured her that they were finally safe. “I love you, Charlie,” she said, smiling down at him.
“I love you, too, Meg. More than anything. Thank you for saving my life.”
“Thank you for saving mine,” she replied. She rested her head gently on his shoulder, so grateful to have him back. She whispered, “Thank you for saving Charlie.”
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied, “just showing some gratitude.”
He seemed to understand. After a moment, he said, “Meg?”
“Yes, love?”
“When we go on our honeymoon, can we take a train?”
She began to laugh in spite of everything. “Yes,” she assured him. “An old, small, slow train.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” he muttered before leaning down and kissing her gently on the forehead.
Laying in his arms, Meg was hopeful that all of her years of hardship were over at last and that she could begin her new life with Charlie in New York, leaving the ghosts of Southampton far behind.