A Tale... Changes

She looked over and smiled at him, seeing him in his new suit against the deep red sunset. Tasting the salt on her lips, she shivered slightly.
“Shall we go in?” She asked, seeing him come out of his reverie and smiling back at her.
“Yes; good idea,” he replied, “it’s getting a bit cold on the deck. You must be frozen in the dress.”
“Yes,” she nodded, “but it still feels so good to wear it.” She found she was touching the fabric again and feeling it between her fingers. So smooth, unlike anything else she had ever felt. His arm curled around her shoulders and they stepped into the plush hallway. It seemed full of people; some laughing, others deep in discussion as they strode along the corridor that never seemed to end. Bits of conversation could be heard as they walked past couples and groups.
“Do you think...?”
“I heard that we may arrive in New York early tomorrow...”
“...it has four funnels you see...”
“The food is as divine as the music...”

As they entered their cabin, she flung herself on the deep bed and stretched her whole body trying to cover it.
“This is wonderful!” She called out to the room. Sitting up she watched her husband watching her, his smile still there, but his eyes almost distant, almost in memory. “Are you well?” She asked him.
“Yes,” his smile grew and his eyes never revealing a trace of where they had been.
“There seems to be something on your mind. You don’t regret spending all that money you received on our anniversary?”
“No, of course not. It’s not every day that you get to give someone their dream; especially the someone whom you care most about.”
As perfect as it looked, she could hear something in his voice, something that she couldn’t touch upon. Perhaps she was afraid to. Nonsense, she thought and cast the thought aside immediately.
“Let’s go for dinner,” he grandly suggested.

The music played as they sat with their plates half full in front of them.
“It seems such a waste,” she said to him, almost mournfully.
“I’m sure it’ll go to use in third class,” his voice lightly cynical. “Don’t worry, it will at least feed the fishes.” He glanced around him, trying not to let it show, but she noticed all the same.
“Do you love me?” He asked her, suddenly turning to her.
“Yes,” she replied without even thinking, “of course.”
“You know that I would do anything for you and the last ten years have been the most fulfilling of my whole life.”
“Why are you saying this?” she asked quietly.
“Please, just hear me out.” He shuffled with the fork and knife on the table. “I have not been able to give you what you deserve or the life that you should of had.”
“But, that’s not...” She started, but he cut her off by taking a hold of her hand in his.
“For the happiness you have given me, I would do anything. I would risk so very much for you.” He stopped, and took a deep breath. “The cruise is almost over and, well, something has happened and I have to tell you now that I did take a risk, for this, for you, and I thought that by us going to America it would never catch us up.”
She tried to take her hands away, “It’s the money...?” she trailed off.
He took his hands away and sat back in the chair.
“What did you do?”
“Is sir ready to have the table cleared?” The adroit voice came from above them both, causing them both to break the reverie.
“Yes,” he started to gather the plates, but the waiter politely pushed his hands away and piled them himself. After he had gone, he could see her eyes in the dimly lit room, red rimmed and watery.
“Please,” he held his hand to her, “will you dance with me?”
She looked at him with confusion in her, and held out her hand for him to pick her up and take her away from where ever it was they had ended up. He pulled her out of the chair as the small orchestra started to play slowly. The violins carrying the melody and she felt his arms around her and his shoulder against her cheek. No thoughts would come to her mind and the music grew in volume, playing to a crescendo. It was all she could hear in her mind, then the warmness against the side of her face, there was something in her hair, reaching up to touch it, sticking to her white gloves. Her husband pushing against her, so heavy, pulling back and watching him falling to the ground in front of her. Reaching for him, his stained shirt, rolling him over, her screaming. But she wasn’t screaming alone. There was panic all around her. People running, pushing past. He’s been shot, she cried out, but no-one listening. People all around her and no-one noticing. She was being pulled away, her husband’s body being trampled and kicked, unknown strangers kicking her husband aside. Nothing was happening, she thought. I have to wake up now. The whole world raised itself around her as she tried to claw her way through the crowd to her husband. Her hand pushing out, trying to see him as everything was sliding downwards. She tripped, holding her hands in front of her, but it was him. He had found her.
“Thank you,” she whispered to him and held him to her resting his head on her lap. “I’ll stay with you this time, you won’t lose me again.”