I do not own GWTW or any of the characters, but this part of the story is mine. I make nothing from the writing of this other than to hone my skills and as a form of catharsis. I've had writer's block lately. Sorry I haven't been posting, but here is something from me... my first post of this new year. hopefully I will get my grove back! Thanks for reading!
It had been a year —one year, one month, two days and 21 hours since his world had ended. The early days had been filled with so much alcohol, that he wondered if someone had stabbed him in those dark days whether blood would have poured from his broken veins or if whiskey would have poured out instead. He recalled with stunning clarity how people had looked at him, unsure of what they could say, and so often they had said nothing at all. And worst of all was when those well meaning people had so strategically avoided Bonnie, that it made him feel like they were pretending that she had never existed. Despite the pain of his loss, he was thankful for every moment that he had had with her. But the loss had changed him, irrevocably. He remembered little of those first few months after she was lost, aside from an all consuming guilt that rendered him useless and frozen. His daughter's blood was on his head and on his hands.
Finally while Scarlett was gone with Wade and Ella to a resort in Marietta, he had finally sobered up for the first time in months. And he realized that if he were to survive then he needed to leave or he would surely die – slowly drinking himself into an early grave. And he had only been able to sober up while she was away. Her constant presence, the grief that he could see etched in her eyes, drove him to the brink of insanity. And she looked all together too much like his lost child. And so he had needed to immerse himself in alcohol to numb the pain that being near to her only intensified.
And so he had left. He had been so numb, too tired to fight. He had had to leave, no matter what was happening with her.
He knew that he had left her at absolutely at the worst moment possible, but he knew that he had to leave at that moment, or he would never leave. He would stay and die a slow torturous death. And so in a way even that was a kindness.
No, that was a lie. There was nothing kind in the way that he had left her. There was no kindness in the way that he told her that all of the feelings that he had left for her was pity and kindness. No, those were the only two emotions that he could claim that would wound her. And he wanted to hurt her. She was surviving, despite all that had happened to her, and he wanted to bring her to her knees. He was angered at those who had had warned him and her that they shouldn't attached to a child before a certain age, because after all children were so very fragile. But she was coping. She was coping and moving on and yet he was floundering. He was failing everyone – most of all himself. She was stronger than he was. He wanted lash out at her and say that she hadn't loved Bonnie, and that was how she was managing so nicely. But she was grieving. He could hear her crying at night, and yet because she was coping better than he was he wanted to punish her. He wanted her to hurt like he was hurting, and he knew exactly what would wound her the very most. It hadn't been fair to her, but then again life was not fair.
But now, now things were changing. He was not whole, far from it. His heart was still raw and bleeding and bruised, but it was not such a mortal wound any longer. His heart was healing, and the numbness had begun to fade. He had hidden himself away at his family's ancestral home in Charleston and licked his wounds like a dying animal. And eventually the healing began. And he had survived.
And so now, months and months of missing his child had passed, and he was slowly coming to his senses and finding himself again. He would never be whole. A part of his heart was forever lost, but life was beginning to spring anew. He once again displayed his favorite portrait of Bonnie in his room, and occasionally he could even pass by it with only a smile instead of tears, for she had brought him so much joy. And occasionally he could remember the joy of the time spent with her, without being blinded by the pain.
In all of the time since he had left Scarlett, he had not returned. He had made his promises, but he could not bear to see her just yet. But that day would come eventually because she was still a poison in his blood, a siren calling to him through the dark storm. And he knew that eventually he would go to see how she was. And he regretted leaving the children as he had. They had lost more than they should have ever had to bear. And his absence had left him with nothing other than a distant grieving mother who had been merely an adequate, though not loving or affectionate mother. Melanie had been as much a mother to Scarlett's children as she herself had been. And so they have virtually become orphans at his leaving. No child deserved that. And yet he had abandoned them as surely as he had abandoned Scarlett.
She had written him many times since he had left. She had not been pleading or begging. She was very concise with her words and details of her children's lives. And he felt terribly guilty for this. But to see Ella and Wade would make him think of how Bonnie should have been there, of the moments when he had wished that it had been one of Scarlett's children that had died instead of his own precious baby girl. Of course the guilt from those thoughts nearly ate him alive, but even then he couldn't stop wondering what it would have been like. The children were doing well enough it seemed. Wade was becoming quite the accomplished student while Ella was making some progress as well. But even without pleading for it, he knew that Scarlett still waited for him to return. He answered her letters with as few words as he could manage, sending many packages of gifts to try and assuage his own guilt. He wanted the children to still know that he cared, even if he hadn't taken the time to visit them, at least the gifts made him feel like he hadn't completely abandoned them.
But he pushed thoughts of Scarlett aside for the moment, as he mind returned to the person that most preoccupied his mind—Bonnie. He closed his eyes, and bowed his head. "God, if you will only give me one more day with her, then I will atone for my sins. All I ask is for one more day." He set his now empty glass on the end table and leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, dreaming of what such a day would entail as the heaven's opened up and the wind tore around the house. One more day wasn't such a great thing to ask for, was it?"