Whenever I read through the final pages of the book I felt- as most of you I imagine- that this is not the way their final conversation should have been... So, this is how I thought it should be... Enjoy... And don't forget to tell me what you think! Ideas, corrections, suggestions, anything that comes into your mind while reading those pages, feel free to share! Your reviews of any kind are both very welcome and most appreciated! Thank you in advance! :-) :-)

A/N February 2014: I have been re-reading this first chapter for quite some time now and I had this intense feeling that something was off, but I couldn't understand why! And then it hit me! This chapter was a translation from Greek! I only began to write in English from the third chapter onwards. It was only natural that it wouldn't flow! So I went through it again and re-wrote part of it. The idea is exactly the same, nothing different from the first version, just a couple of corrections; more musing from Scarlett's POV, dialogue improvements and, yes *embarrassed sigh* a few grammatical corrections. Plus 500 words! :-$ I think it looks better this way - fingers crossed. :-)))) A special thanks to Carol CR for her constructive criticism!

CHAPTER 1

She felt his presence in the house the moment she went through the door step. He was there, she could tell. She rushed up the stairs and run to his room.

"Rhett," she cracked the door open panting.

"Come in," he said. "She is dead?"

And just like that, the bubble burst. Dead. The word was spoken and the unthinkable had now flesh and bones. She was dead. Melly was dead. All of a sudden the happiness over her newfound feelings for him -the shelter from reality around her heart - vanished, leaving nothing but sadness behind; oppressive, unbearable, all consuming sadness. And she was ashamed to speak of love when Melly was hardly cold. A simple nod was all she could manage.

"God rest her. She was a great lady," he sighed. "A very great lady."

"Pour us something to drink, will you?" she asked and sat heavily on the armchair next to him.

She took a strong sip and felt it burning its way down her throat and spreading a hint of warmness on her cold members. But it wasn't enough to numb her mind; Melly, her deadly paleness, the coldness of her skin, her agonizing breaths, her barely audible words, all the agony of the last hour was replaying in her head. And random memories of the past twelve years with Melly constantly by her side began to pop up and the suffocating pressure on her chest intensified.

"She was my last bond with Atlanta," the first words left her mouth and she knew there was no way to stop them now. Rhett was there. Strong, understanding, always ready to listen. "There is nothing left for me in this city anymore. Nothing," she sighed. "It has nothing to offer that I'd want. Back then, during the War, it held incredible charm. Balls, picnics, beaus, everything that the country lacked. And I was so young. I wanted to experience everything and fast," she smiled nostalgically. "After the War, it was full of opportunities. Opportunities I was thirsty to exploit. Funny, isn't it?" she laughed hoarsely. "None of these mean anything to me anymore. No matter what I do, the emptiness inside me keeps growing and growing," she heaved. "I can take no more, Rhett. I just can't. I want to go away. Leave everything behind and start over. I can't stand any more tragedies and deaths. I want peace, serenity. I want to be happy again. I can't even recall the last time I felt happy," she turned to him. "Can you?"

He was looking at her coolly, his face a perfect blank, but there was a faint glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"No, I can't," he said tonelessly. "I know exactly what you mean. I feel this way several months now, since…" he stopped abruptly. "I know how you feel," he repeated as if to himself.

"My God, Rhett, how did we end up like this? We used to talk and laugh and have fun. Whatever became of those two people?"

He held his gaze steady, but he remained silent. Yet his silence spoke more loudly than any words he might have used.

"Who am I kidding, right?" she mocked bitterly. "It's all on me. This intense gap that keeps us apart, I did this to us."

"It's not entirely your fault, Scarlett," he offered.

"You'd warned me once, remember? You told me that I was throwing away happiness with both hands, but I wouldn't listen. It is now that I understand what you meant back then."

"You have always been so selfish and self absorbed," he said, a weary smile on his lips. "Did it do you any good?"

"No," she said truthfully. "And now it's too late. Have I ever known anything about happiness? About love?" she wondered. "I was always seeking it from the wrong people and I was growing more and more indifferent to those giving it to me generously; like Melanie and you. And now nothing can change. Melanie is dead. But what about you, Rhett? Have I lost you too?"

"It took you so long to realize it," he sighed. "All these years I was trying to make you understand. I was showing you my love in every possible way, but you were always blind and deaf, when it came to me."

"I didn't know, Rhett," she protested. "You were never frank with me. You made me believe you didn't care."

"Maybe I was trying the wrong way, I don't know," he wondered. "I was responding to your selfishness with selfishness, to your irony with irony, to the pain you were causing me with more pain. But I was too afraid of getting hurt," he confessed. "You are very harsh on the people who love you, Scarlett. You take their love and hold it above their heads like a whip. I knew that if I held my cards wide open, you would have used it against me, you would have humiliated me and make me regret the very moment. So, we were trapped in a vicious circle with constant insults, meanness, anger and hate. As long as Bonnie was alive, I thought it was enough to keep me going."

She shivered at the sound of her name. They hadn't talked about her ever since that horrible day. When was the last time they talked to each other like that anyway? It was so long ago she couldn't remember. The sound of his voice brought her attention back to him.

"I was giving her all the love you were denying. But she loved me and it was a blessing I could love and pet another human being. Bonnie was taking all the worship I was giving her and she was giving it back. She was so like you. The same rebellious, wild little animal you used to be before the War did things to you. When she went, she took everything. And I was left alone with the guilt you had the courtesy to lay upon me," he stood up abruptly and refilled his glass.

She drew a sharp breath. No, you are wrong, terribly wrong, her heart rebelled, tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted to run to him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault. That she was stupid and hurt and angry and she needed someone to blame. But something inside her warned her not to interrupt him, not when he was finally revealing his heart to her. So she stayed put, her ears strained listening carefully. More carefully than she had ever listened to anyone in her life.

"I am not mad at you, nor do I accuse you of anything. Not anymore," he sank back in the armchair and lit up a cigar. "You have always been a spoiled child, Scarlett," he looked straight into her watery eyes. "When you want something, nothing can come in your way. You are claiming it so passionately and stubbornly. I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. You weren't like anyone I've known; you were bad tempered, independent, strong headed, just like me. I struggled to beat it, I struggled like crazy to forget you. I even went to War trying to escape your spell. But I couldn't. You were constantly on my mind. The War changed you so drastically. It forced you to confront with reality the hard way. You suffered so much. I was fully aware of what you've been through. And all I ever wanted was to take care of you. To offer you everything. To show you that you could stop fighting, because I could do the fighting for you. I thought that, if you felt secure and happy, you would come to love me. I knew you didn't love me, when I married you, but I was madly in love with you and I couldn't find any other way to have you. But, you see, we were never alone in this marriage. There was always Ashley. It was the only thing the War couldn't make you forget. And that was driving me crazy with jealousy. I knew you were praying I would be him; the one kissing you, the one holding you in his arms, the one making love to you. Ashley, always Ashley. You know, Scarlett, it is very tiring and soul-destroying to fight a ghost."

"You are right," she nodded wearily and she saw him startle. "A ghost from the old days, my adolescence dreams. That's exactly what Ashley was in my life. You were right all along," she sighed. "But you have to understand, Rhett. The War brought down my whole world. It destroyed everything I believed in, everything I counted upon: Mother, Pa, Tara, my friends. Ashley was the only thing left to bind me with the past and the life in Georgia. I grasped from him and the love I thought I felt for him and I was struggling not to let go. I was afraid that, if I did, I would have to give up on eighteen years in Tara. And those years were sacred to me; the parties, the barbecues, my friends, my family, my dreams. I quit making dreams abruptly," she confessed. "I quit, when I saw Georgia burned down and Mother dead. From that day on, one thing was governing my life ruling everything I ever did since: never to be hungry again. Nor me, nor any of my people. It became an obsession. An obsession later linked with my love for money. And I never managed to get over it. Not even now, that I have everything. In terms of material goods that is," she paused, her voice losing its steadiness. She tried to bring the glass to her lips, but her hands were shaking too. She took a deep breath trying in vain to fill her lungs with the much needed air. She knew though that as long as her eyes were burning with unshed tears, no relief would come.

"I was living with illusions and lies for years," she went on eventually. "But it's been a while since a slow change began. I can't place the where and when nor the why, but I felt that something was shifting. And that evening of his birthday, it was final. I was there, alone with him, we were talking, he was holding my hand and I felt nothing. Only tenderness, like talking to my best friend, the only one left from the past. Yet no one would have believed that, even if I had tried to explain it," she laughed bitterly.

She could feel his gaze getting more and more intense with every passing second and that gave her enough courage to go on.

"The night that followed the party erased anything left in my heart for good, though I did not know it then. You told me you loved me that night over and over again, but when I woke up and you were gone, I panicked. I was waiting for you sleepless three days in a row, shaking at the thought that something might have happened to you. I asked everyone about you, but they wouldn't tell me a thing. I went almost mad those days. When you came back, you were as harsh and ironical, as you were before. As if nothing had ever happened between us, as if that night was a figment of my imagination. I was hurt badly, but I couldn't let you know. Instead, I tried to persuade myself that I was a fool to let myself hope. I regretted trusting your words. You didn't care, you never would. And then you left and I was alone again. If it wasn't for Melly…" no, she shook her head, that was not the time. She couldn't think of Melly now. She would go crazy if she did. Later. She would think about her later. Another deep breath. "When Dr. Meade told me about the baby," she carried on, "I hoped that everything could be corrected. I wanted to write it to you, to make you come back. Yet I was afraid you would think me a coward and laugh at me. I had missed you so and that baby had made me so happy. I wanted it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. And again I couldn't let you know. Then it was gone," her voice broke, "and I thought everything went along with it. Alas, I lost so much more after the baby."

With her last word uttered the first teardrop slid hot on her cheek, followed by another and another, draining the sorrow and slowly bringing the much desired release. She looked into his eyes –these eyes she knew so well and yet so little- and saw her own pain reflecting in their darkness. Shared pain for common loses.

"You are right. We were trapped in a vicious circle. We were trying avidly to hurt each other. Avidly, Rhett. Did you ever understand why?" she asked.

"No," he said breathlessly. "I never did."

Heavy silence fell between them, each lost in their own thoughts.

He turned to her after a while only to find her asleep on the armchair. He felt something that resembled tenderness stirring inside him. Being used of feeling empty and unable of any sentiment, this slight warmness surprised him. It had been so long since he experienced anything but pain. And even that had become something indefinite with time, something closer to numbness. He lifted her up in his arms and she cuddled in his embrace obediently, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her soft breath on his skin made his heart convulse in his chest, painfully shaking off the deadness. He took her to her bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She opened her eyes and looked wearily into his.

"You've been through enough for one morning," he said gently. "Get some rest."