She stood in the middle of the room. Alone. Again. She fiddled dejectedly and absentmindedly with her soft hands, trembling as if shaken by a sudden and violent wind. Her posture was correct, stiff, iced, eyes unblinking and unseeing through the thick curtain of lashes. In the darkened stillness of her bedroom, one could almost discern the eerie laughter of dejection and remorse. She was already regretting her harsh and unnecessary words.

Scarlett O`Hara wasn`t a perceptive person. Perhaps you could have called her obtuse, unreasonable and fallible. But right then, in that single moment of utter and terrible solitude it didn`t matter anymore. What she couldn`t fathom in day to day life, that there was always something more important than money, than compromise and constant fighting. What she couldn`t yet perceive – a foolishly misdirected love, destined to perish like the flapping wings of moths in the suave candlelight. What she couldn`t understand, the affection of a mere soul, a naïve, pure and crystal-clear soul whose recesses escaped her, being fundamentally different from her own sharp and unscrupulous one.

What she could finally see, or rather feel, was the indefinite and uncontrolled wave of regret that splattered its white waters on the shore when she, once again, did what she was best at. Hurting someone. Scarlett knew she had been absurdly prone to sharpen her nails on Rhett for a long time. He brought out something in her, something so foreign and unsettling that it genuinely scared her, she who took pride in not knowing what fear is. But really, she knew the heart-wrenching sensation of losing - whether it was someone dear, or a part of the serene life that used to mean something to her.

Now, a nagging voice in the back of her funny little mind kept echoing the same unnerving thought – she was going to lose Rhett. She had just expressed her defensive wish to sleep in separate bedrooms, to be left alone, pondering through the chimeras in her brain. She expected to feel relieved – she was materially at ease, and now she could constantly dream of her precious Ashley, without any intrusion. She was now free to succumb once again to the whirlpool of melancholy and foolish hope, clinging to her girlish fantasy that, one day, Ashley Wilkes would once and for all choose her and take her away, somewhere better.

But what did better mean, she kept asking herself now. Somehow, being married to Rhett permeated her being with a subtle sense of protection and serenity, of wealth and appreciation. She would feel no shame while losing her temper (which was pretty often by the way) and expressing her ardent wish to send him to Halifax. Because she never meant it. In fact, she would soften completely at the thought of how generous Rhett was when it came to giving her everything she could possibly dream of. She would feel expectant and delighted whenever she accidentally caught him staring at her, with a passionate yet caring look in his eyes. And she would blush at the feel of their intertwined limbs every night, in the comfort and silence of charming intimacy.

And all this was gone to waste in a second. She was perfectly conscious he would never beg, not in a thousand year. He would put on a detached, calm and indifferent façade in front of her. He would cheat on her whenever he had the chance, to prove them both he no longer needed her or took any particular interest in her. Surprisingly, she didn`t feel the salty bite of tear because of ruffled feathers and outraged vanity. Instead, she felt it because she realized she already missed what they had… what he could unconditionally give her, if only she…

If only she had treated him the way he deserved.

After all, he hadn`t been at all obliged to marry her, pamper her or treat her as his ultimate equal, one of the few he actually gave a damn about. A smile appeared on the corner of her beautiful mouth, thinking of his delight at Bonnie`s birth, at his constant care and affection, spanning so many years. Years of hastened marriages, deaths, tragedies and triumphs, swaying kisses and some vicious insults, and above all, her abiding affection for Ashley Wilkes. Rhett had known that from the very beginning, yet he had stood there at her side, guiding her, bearing with her, laughing with her. With her. No other. Finally sensing part of a truth she hadn`t been able to fathom before, Scarlett decided she couldn`t lose him. Not now, after everything they`ve been through, for he was her husband, not Ashley. Really, he would never be hers.

Scarlett rang the little bell on the table and when it, as usual, failed to invite Mammy in, she forcefully opened the door and gave a frustrated shout. Ignoring the patronizing woman`s complaints, she threatened to send her right back to Tara, of course not until she would finish getting her dressed up in the gown she had chosen. An infinity of red skies shaping up against the beautiful contours of her body, clinging to them with seductive reflections of light`s motion, emphasizing her natural gifts. A touch of make-up covered her cheeks, contrasting sharply with the exquisite green of her eyes and an ardent red defined her lips.

When she inspected herself in the mirror one more time, she suddenly felt thankful for her overall appearance, for she was an apparition. This gown should have been exposed at a pretentious ball, but she intended to make use of it to redeem herself in Rhett`s eyes.

Softly, with feline-like movements, she lingered in the dark, made her way down the corridor, towards a spacious but overly decorated room where Scarlett could guess Rhett had retired for the evening, if only he hadn`t gone out in his fit of rage, to that horrible creature. Thankfully, he hadn`t. She could hear him pacing up and down and felt suddenly ashamed for coming to him dressed like this, as if playing with him, making a cruel joke of it all. But she`d come too far to give in, she was too strong to lose like this. For once caught up in the translucent spider web that was her life, she swallowed her pride and knocked on the door, somehow shyly.

The footsteps stopped, the incessant walking came to a halt. Just like time, for the agonizing second seemed to elongate teasingly, languidly, sardonically.

Nothing.

"I know you`re here. Open the door."

No response. Fine, no one said it was going to be easy. Actually, it was becoming fair. And interesting.

"Please, Rhett. Please."

Finally. She hadn`t realized she was standing so close to the wooden door, almost pushing against it. Now she could feel his breath, which for the moment proved to be enough for them both, because she was holding hers in her lungs, almost as tightly as she gripped the door`s handle. He was staring at her intently, a questioning look in his dark orbs, partially hidden behind curtains of his jet-black hair.

She had to speak, Scarlett knew he was going to be merciless, as cynical as ever, waiting for her to make the first move, while pretending to consider her with a fake expression of distant amusement and contempt in his eyes.

"Rhett, let me in. I want to talk to you."

Feigned surprise mixed with genuine one, fighting for supremacy on his face.

"You are quite forward, my pet. But have you asked yourself this little question: would I want to talk to you, after…" He left the rest unspoken. Scarlett raised her chin, a note of defiance in this elegant gesture of her neck. She was Irish, after all. "Just let me in."

"Ever the warrior, my dear." With mock politeness, he forcefully bowed and shifted enough to allow her passage. Scarlett complied, having that elusive yet undeniable feeling that something decisive was on the verge of occurring, was speeding its way towards them, like a train rushing with perilous speed in the still station. As she entered the room, her shoulders just a little bit too tense to go unnoticed, he eyed her and a shiver of profound curiosity surged through him. What was she up to now? His darling selfish cat, always so unpredictable and sometimes absurd, a walking contradiction and, as he would often think, a lost cause, at least for him. Simply out of his reach, when it came to getting what he wanted – her heart. But now, she seemed more present than she had ever been with him, like the effect of a powerful drug to which she had succumbed was beginning to fade away.

Still, there was resentment.

"My dear, I`m afraid you`re mistaken. Ashley Wilkes`s house is in the opposite direction. I`m sure you`ll be quite forgiven for arriving late at your rendez-vous when his eyes feast upon you dressed like this, anyway."

Her head shot up, an almost pained expression on her face. Had he gone too far? Still, he wanted to spite her, to make her feel humiliated, just as he had felt all this time.

"So, what are you waiting for? After all, he`s a gentleman. He`ll excuse you for your delayed arrival, as I`ve said before."

"You". She was looking at him accusingly, through thick eyelashes and emerald-green eyes. "Waiting for you to stop this…immature behavior and hear me out, in the name of God!"

"And what would my ears hear, my pet? How much you appreciate the elegant Mister Wilkes, how worthy he is of your enduring affection, how unworthy of it is a cad like me? Yes, I think you`ve mentioned it before, so please spare me. I don`t want to be reminded of it now. I can`t be reminded of it now."

It was true. Everything Rhett reproached her was true. Wasn`t she the one who said to him she`d always love another man? Honestly, it was beginning to dawn on her she wasn`t so sure of this anymore. What had Ashley really given her? A fantasy to cling to, a beautiful and suave ideal… yet it didn`t compare by far to Rhett`s security and care, of course, when he wasn`t behaving like an omniscient, indifferent cad.

She began to seriously question her mental sanity. Why did she dress like this, so elaborately, unnecessarily and insinuatingly? To contradict everything she`d said to him only a couple of hours ago, to not so subtly take it all back, to futilely attempt to seduce him? Did he thought her capable of? Moreover, did she want to?

Possibly. But, more importantly, she struggled to melt the façade, to make him comprehend the change of feelings, to shove some light into their tumultuous relationship, because, for the first time, she really understood that her marriage was to Rhett Butler and not to Ashley`s spectrum.

Scarlett took a deep breath, one that did not escape his attentive, somehow desperate eyes.

"That I take it all back… everything I said earlier. Please, don`t make me dwell into it any further."

Her eyes searched his and, cowardly as it seemed, he gasped. It wasn`t fear. Well, it was a lot of fear, but also unbelief – not only at her words, but at her expression.

Unguarded.

Vulnerable.

And, definitely and irrevocably, unclouded. Devoid of shadows, chimeras, crystal-clear. Emerald-clear.

Hello.

Sorry for my sudden and inexcusable disappearance. I`ve decided to start all over with a new story. I hope I`ll find some time to continue the other one in the not too distant future.

This story is set after Scarlett tells Rhett she wants them to sleep in separate bedrooms. I`ve always wondered what would have been if she hadn`t made that awful choice, so I thought I could explore it. I hope it`s going to be multi-chaptered.

Reviews would be, of course, welcome.

Until next time,

AnnAspiringWriter.