This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I wanted to bring the story to some sort of resolution, even if it may not be a happy one. I tried to keep the mood and the characters consistent with the last chapter of the novel.
Unbidden, an image of Rhett's face etched with its grim, harsh lines, his eyes devoid of any feeling or warmth toward her, came into her mind, and all of a sudden, Scarlett's plan of going to Tara to prepare a campaign to get him back seemed utterly foolish. She could not explain it, but at that moment she knew with certainty that he would never come back. No plan, no scheme, no appeal would ever win him to her again. She had lost him forever, never more so than in the last hour when she had confessed her love for him, and he had told her that his love for her had worn out.
In that last hour, Scarlett finally understood Rhett in a way that she had never understood him before. Rhett would never come back to her no matter what she did because she knew that there was not one thing that Ashley could do that would ever make her feel the same way that she had once felt for him. In the light of the revelations that had taken place that evening, she felt very little towards Ashley save a tired wonder at her own foolishness that she had ever cared anything for him at all. Pity, kindly contempt was all the feeling she could muster for Ashley. This must be the way Rhett feels about me, too, Scarlett thought.
She finally understood him. No plan, no campaign was going to move Rhett's heart—of this Scarlett was certain. She was equally sure that pursuing him using her old arsenal of coquetry, charm, and feminine wiles would only make him despise her.
Even as Scarlett reflected on these truths, she realized that she had some unfinished business with Rhett. He would probably be packing his things, she thought miserably. She knew she needed to speak with him that very night in case he left without warning, as was his habit, but she could hardly see how she could bring herself to do it.
Scarlett slowly made her way up the grand staircase, her body trembling from physical weariness and nervous exhaustion. She could see the door of Rhett's room slightly ajar, light streaming from it. So he was still awake. Summoning her courage, she approached his room. Through the crack in the door, Scarlett could see that Rhett was not packing as she had expected but was slumped in a chair, his posture resigned and defeated, and her heart contracted with painful remorse. Rhett looked up at her. He did not look surprised when she lightly pushed the door and stepped through the threshold, but his expression was guarded.
"Rhett, I know you're wanting to leave, but won't you at least stay for...for Melly's funeral?" Scarlett's voice faltered miserably at the mention of Melanie's name.
"She thought the world of you—she thought so highly of you, and I do believe you will regret it if you don't stay and pay your last respects to her. And Rhett, it would help so much if you were here. I don't think—I don't think I could bear it if you weren't."
Rhett made no immediate answer. Even before Scarlett had come into the room, he had been grieving Melanie's passing. He could not forget how she had ministered to him in this very room, how he had sobbed brokenly like a child in her lap, how she had received his drunken, half-crazed confessions with gentleness and equanimity, and stayed with him during those long terrible hours when Scarlett had almost died, and later when his beloved Bonnie had been taken from him forever. He had been mad with grief, crazy with guilt, but Melanie had borne his anguish with quiet gentleness and unwavering fortitude. She had comforted him and in her serene presence, he had found the will to live. As much as he longed to leave Atlanta that very night, he was quite certain that he owed Melanie his life. Yes, the very least he could do was to pay her his respects.
Rhett was grimly silent for so long that Scarlett feared that he had not heard her. He broke the stillness suddenly by softly saying, "Yes, Scarlett, I will stay for Miss Melly's funeral. And I will help with the arrangements if there is anything I can do."
Scarlett blinked, moved by Rhett's unexpected offer to help. "Why, Rhett, I'm so glad...I..." She hesitated. She had resolved on her way to his room that she would be completely open and honest with him, whatever it might cost her. She steeled herself inwardly before continuing.
"And Rhett—I wonder if you would tell the children—if—if you would explain to them that you will be leaving—won't you tell them goodbye in person? Prissy will be bringing them home tomorrow." Scarlett could hardly bring herself to speak. Little Wade and Ella would be so crushed by Rhett's leaving. And how on earth was she going to tell them about Melly! She swallowed. Well, she wouldn't think about that now. She would think about it later, when she had the strength to bear it.
Rhett's face softened at the mention of the children. "Yes, of course. I don't know if I can ever make them understand, but I will try. I wish..." but then he stopped himself and did not say anymore.
Scarlett did not press him. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before saying, "Thank you so much, Rhett—I …" Scarlett started to speak again but stopped herself momentarily. She hardly knew where she would find the courage to utter her next words. She took a deep breath and gathered her strength for one final stand.
"And Rhett—I wonder if—if after Melly's funeral you would give me some time to talk to you. Before you leave, there are some things I have to say. I need some time to put everything into the right words, but darling, it would mean so much if you wouldn't leave before you gave me that chance."
"Scarlett—there's nothing more to say—I don't want to hear anything. The time has passed for all of that," Rhett's voice was strained and weary.
"Oh, but there are things that need to be said, especially if I won't—if I won't be seeing you." Scarlett could feel her resolve breaking. "For the sake of everything we've gone through, give me that time. Then you can go, and I won't stop you. You have my word." Scarlett fought to keep the pleading note out of her voice.
Rhett looked at her without saying anything. He had no desire to hear her confessions; he had little interest in her explanations. He wished he could care what was in her heart, but he could not. He was so tired, so dreadfully, unutterably tired. But after everything they had gone through together, perhaps it was only right to give her the time to say what she needed to say. Yes, he would will himself to hear her out this one last time; perhaps her words would bring some resolution, some closure to their marriage, for his sake as well as for her own.
"As you wish, my dear," Rhett said reluctantly, unwillingly. "I will stay until the end of the week. After Miss Melly is laid to rest, we will talk. But Scarlett, I meant everything I said tonight. Please—no schemes, no ploys to win me over with your—er—charms. I couldn't bear it after everything we've—"
"No, Rhett, I only want to talk," Scarlett said flatly. She had anticipated this suspicion from Rhett. She wanted him to know that her asking him to stay was not a ruse to win him back. She would not try to win over this man who no longer loved her. But there were things she needed to say, difficult, painful things, and she knew she had to say them before he disappeared from her life. She meant for him to think well of her in the last few days they had together, even if he no longer loved her, and she knew that she could only win his respect if she dealt with him honestly and directly, without artifice or underhandedness.
It would be the hardest thing she ever did. Her heart would break, but at least she would have said everything to him face to face, and he would never have to wonder. Then—then—what else could she do but to go on the best that she knew how? She blinked back her tears. How could she face life without Rhett? Without Melly? How could she face life alone?
Rhett's expression remained disinterested but inwardly, he was caught off guard by her candor. He watched her closely. She was unconsciously clenching and unclenching her fists, and she was biting her lower lip, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"Well—thank you, Rhett, for hearing me out." Her voice was composed. "I'll say goodnight now".
With that, Scarlett left the room and closed the door. Rhett could hear her footsteps hurrying to her own room down the hall. If he had stepped out into the hall and listened, he would have heard the muffled sounds of Scarlett's weeping.