Send My Love
A/N: Modern AU, post-book. I would love to hear what you think!
Send my love to your new lover
Treat her better
Gotta let go of all our ghosts
We both know we ain't kids no more
-(All hail The Queen) Adele
Scarlett laid the newspaper down on the kitchen table, smoothing her hand over it with forced gentleness. So Rhett was getting married again. He had known Rebecca, or at least known her family, since he was young. Their fathers had been in business together at one point, and although he had been out on his own since she was in elementary school, they had reconnected once he moved back to be nearer to his mother. Of course, in the years of their marriage, Scarlett had never heard him mention her, but then he had rarely mentioned anything about himself, and she had never asked. Not for the first time, she thought it was a wonder they had lasted as long as they had. Rebecca was younger than him, too, although not so much younger as Scarlett was. Perhaps a smaller age difference would help them be more compatible. It couldn't hurt. She was also beautiful and elegant, and Rhett was looking at her in their engagement picture like… well, like he used to look at her. Maybe even better than he used to look at her. He surely wouldn't marry a woman who wasn't in love with him twice, and from all appearances he wasn't about to. No, they had chosen a perfectly gorgeous picture, the photographer either framing a scene just so to where it looked candid—or else capturing a genuine joyous moment between two people, at least one of whom had not looked that happy in a long, long time.
She had known he was getting married again. She had run into Honey and her husband at Whole Foods—God only knew how Honey had found out first, except that she probably had some kind of radar, or Google alert, for any gossip she thought could possibly wound Scarlett. Rebecca was an attorney, Honey had positively gloated. Poor, pug-faced Honey. Who had the time to obsess over a person like that? Even she, Scarlett, and India! of all people, had finally managed to bury the hatchet, more or less. They might never be close, but they could be cordial. They both adored their nephew. She took a sip of her orange juice and waited for the tightness in her throat to ease, as she thought of Melanie.
Rhett had called later that same day, because he apparently also had a radar for whenever anyone gossiped about him. (And if he did, did it ever turn off? He didn't even live here anymore, and some days she felt like she could hardly go someplace without overhearing someone mention him. The world was not that small.) It was a rather short, obviously awkward conversation, but she appreciated that he had made the effort to let her know before she found out from somebody else. She did not tell him about Honey.
She asked about Rebecca. A human rights lawyer, she represented inmates at Guantánamo. Well! Dignity and grace, indeed. Scarlett raised one eyebrow. Another career woman? Was she going to resent giving that up to have children? Or did Rhett no longer want them? She bit her lip. Surely they had talked about it. It was not her place to ask, not anymore. But she hoped—genuinely hoped—that he and his fiancée were on the same page. It was a mistake even she hadn't—would not make again.
Scarlett imagined Rhett holding a baby in his arms once more, his baby. Her heart hurt, but she wanted that for him. If he still wanted it. They had talked for a few more minutes. She hoped he wouldn't ask her to come to the wedding, and he didn't. "Thank you for telling me, Rhett. I know you're supposed to say congratulations to the groom, but I—I really do wish you the best. Every happiness."
And now here was their announcement. Curiously, it did not hurt. Of course, it would've been unfair to everyone if it had, but that hadn't always stopped her in the past.
The sun rose higher in the sky and the light filtering in through the window shifted, catching on her ring. A tiny rainbow spilled across the print next to her hand as facets caught and refracted the rays. A much more modest ring, this time around, large enough to appease her still-extant vanity, but not gaudy. It weighed much less heavily on her finger.
Absorbed in her thoughts, Scarlett did not hear anyone approach until she felt a kiss pressed to the back of her head. Turning around, she smiled. Tom was adorably rumpled in his T-shirt and blue pinstriped boxers. His dark blond hair stuck up in the back and out on one side. He blearily punched buttons on the espresso machine.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. I made breakfast."
Tom quirked an eyebrow at her, and she pouted before grinning. "I paid someone to make it, and it's here ready for you now. That's basically the same thing." He smiled back and walked over, leaning down to kiss her.
"You're ridiculous and I love you. And thank you for getting breakfast." He returned to the counter and lounged against it as his coffee finished.
"You're welcome. I know." she responded airily, her cheeks dimpling again. Tom gestured toward her with his empty mug. "I mean, I love you too." And to demonstrate what a rational, mature adult she'd become, she stuck her tongue out at him.
"I know, babe."
Scarlett felt the sun on her face. The great thing was, she thought, he did.