Like when she told him that Ashley was not what she had dreamed he was, Rhett said nothing.
The seconds dragged on like hours as the tension between them grew and grew.
Scarlett kept her head down, her courage now greatly diminished. Perhaps she should have just told him she missed him and saved the grander proclamations for later.
The heavy silence between them continued to fester and for one fleeting, terrifying moment, Scarlett O'Hara was sure that her husband would walk away and leave her once again.
He did not, though.
He was torn between joy and disbelief, but the thought of going back to the Station as he originally planned never once crossed his mind.
Ten years. In his disoriented state, Rhett Butler could think of nothing coherent but those two all-consuming words.
For a decade he had loved her, and for a decade he had waited restlessly for the day she would love him back. He had waited so long, and now, faced with what he had dreamed and longed for all those years, his dumbfounded head could conjure nothing concerning what he would do next at all.
Slowly, as the webs of surprise ebbed and melted away, Rhett placed a hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her anxious emerald green eyes met his obsidian ones, and once again he felt his heart surrender and proclaim defeat.
"Scarlett," he whispered, his voice warm and gentle as a summer breeze. "Say that again."
Shyly, she took his hand that held her face and squeezed it tenderly. She mustered all the courage that she could and whispered, almost imperceptibly, "I love you, Rhett."
Without preamble, his lips pressed against hers, and suddenly she wondered how she had gone without his kisses for years. Fighting back tears from spilling down her cheeks, Scarlett prayed that she had really been blessed with a second chance, that she would never wake and realize that all of this had been nothing but a mere dream.
Rhett's thoughts were not so different from hers. If he woke up and realized that he was still in the train headed back to Atlanta, he did not know how he would cope.
They had spent so much time being at cross purposes that the prospect of finally moving forward seemed unthinkable, like an impossible fantasy they had both incessantly wished for but never once thought would be realized.
Now, though, wrapped in each other's arms, lips entwined and hearts tangled, his incredulity vanished at the prospect of indecision. He knew they would never be happy if he let this moment slip by. Heart blazing with resolution, Rhett Butler swore he would never let his wife's offered love, may it be transient or everlasting, be sent to waste.
When finally the sound of footsteps forced their ardent lips to part, they met each other's eyes and knew that genuine bliss was finally in their grasp.
Both acknowledged that miles were yet to be trod before the bridge of reconciliation was completely crossed. Both admitted that the impending discussion of their marital faults would be a winding, rough, and narrow path. But with the light of hope and love leading their way, the journey did not seem so very difficult nor overwhelming.
When Mammy entered the front hall with Miz Bonnie holding her hand, her sharp eyes gazed suspiciously on her embarrassed lamb and the smiling Captain Butler, and the fact that they stood uncharacteristically close to each other.
No servant had the right to pry in their masters' affairs, but she hoped that those two stubborn mules had finally seen sense. It had truly been long enough.
"Mama!" The excited Miz Bonnie ran towards the mother who she had missed all so much, and when that mother crouched and wrapped her arms around her little form, a smile appeared on Mammy's weathered face as she left to go back to her terrorizing of the new maids and footmen.
Bonnie's calling out to Scarlett first had saddened a small part of Rhett, the part that still doubted Scarlett's love and cruelly wanted to run her out of their daughter's heart for good, but a much larger chamber of his soul delighted in his wife and daughter's shared embrace.
His Bonnie Blue had missed her mother terribly, and the notoriously hardhearted Captain Butler felt an avalanche of guilt as he allowed himself to think of how his little girl would ask for her mother every morning they had been away.
Oblivious to her husband's shame, Scarlett marveled at the warmth embracing Bonnie made her feel. She had taken the girl in her arms only a few times before the little one's untimely death, and had given even less affection to her other offspring.
With mournful eyes Scarlett thought of Wade and Ella, her poor children who she had neglected and ignored. It then at last hit her that she had not only been blessed with a chance to be a good mother to Bonnie, but to her other children as well.
If her recollections proved true, then her two oldest should be at the Wilkes', happily receiving their beloved aunt's love and little Beau Wilkes' company.
Now determined, Scarlett, with great effort, pulled away from Bonnie and turned towards her husband, whose dark gaze made her waver only for a moment.
"The—" Scarlett winced at what she would soon say. "The children went this morning to Melly's house to play with Beau. Do you..." she paused and looked at him with hesitant green eyes. "Do you want to go fetch them with me, Rhett?"
Bonnie now in his arms, her husband nodded with ridiculous solemnity. "It would be an honor, Mrs. Butler. Though are you sure you want to go and fetch the children now?"
His tone bore no sign of ill will, but his wife understood the question trapped on the tip of his tongue. These unspoken words hung in the air like anchors made of lead: "Are you sure you don't want to wait for Ashley Wilkes to be at home before you go and visit his house?"
She forced an innocent expression on her face. "Of course I do, why ever would I want to go there later, Rhett?"
He gave her deceptively innocent grin. "Why, to have dinner there, of course." A restless Bonnie squirmed and then demanded to be immediately set down. Her father did so with his gaze still set on her beloved mother's face. "Although, Mrs. Butler, if we do dine there at their place, Miss Melly may have nothing that will please your quite…extravagant tastes."
His wife humored him with a beguiling smile of her own. "I'm certain that she will, if ever we decide to dine there." However she managed to speak with nonchalance would always be a miracle to herself and her husband. Little hands tugged on her voluminous skirts, and Scarlett felt her heart melt at her daughter's impatient pout. "Come, Bonnie, let's get you dressed. We're going to your Aunt Melly's!"
Without Ripper's claws enclosing it in fog and gloom, the little house on Ivy Street looked vastly different from what it did under the rosy fingers of dawn, the time Scarlett stood before it last.
Wounds caused by Melly's passing ripped open and throbbed in Scarlett's mind. She would never be able to put into words the gratitude she felt towards her husband and daughter, whose warm, comforting presence kept the scars of her death-ridden memory from festering.
Rhett helped her out of the carriage, and when she could finally drink in the sight of the small house without hindrance, Scarlett realized that although she had seen the black iron gate and cobblestone path that lead to the Wilkes' porch for times that were impossible to count, she had never really looked at it even once.
She noticed how every window of the house was thrown open, except for the one in India Wilkes's former room, how the flowers in Melly's front yard was the same as the ones that had once bloomed in Twelve Oaks, and how the place as a whole seemed to glimmer with the gentle warmth of its mistress.
Rhett's hand enveloped hers, and Scarlett's misty eyes went from the house to her husband. She realized that Bonnie had skipped merrily ahead of them, and that Rhett was looking at her with unconcealed concern.
"Are you alright, Scarlett? It's not our baby that's worrying you, is it?"
Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Oh Rhett, how you do go on."
He knew she never had any of her countless silken handkerchiefs with her in times of need, so he pulled out one of his own. "Don't act like I'm overreacting, Mrs. Butler. It just isn't like you to be emotional."
His wife could barely make him out through the unshed tears that blurred her vision, but she still tsked. "It's just our baby that's making me like this and you know it." She took the handkerchief he offered and began to wipe her eyes. "I simply…realized I haven't cared enough to really appreciate Melly's home." Just like Melly herself.
Scarlett welcomed the flood of regret that rushed through her veins. It felt only right, fair, justified. She may have treated Rhett and her children horribly, but Melly was someone who not only experienced her abuse, but also refused to consider it that. Gentle, kind Melly with her understanding heart had never been able to think badly of those she loved, and against the whispers of the Old Guard she had loved Scarlett as much as she did her husband and son.
To her, Scarlett had always been just misunderstood. It wasn't true that she never loved Charles, she merely chose to hide her grief in an effort to be strong for Wade, herself, and Aunt Pitty. It wasn't true she never cared for Frank, she was merely scarred by the errand therefore unable to let her need to make sure she and those around her would always be provided for give way to being a traditional wife. It wasn't true that Scarlett didn't love Captain Butler, she was merely still scarred by the war and still consumed by her need to make sure they will always have enough.
It wasn't true she didn't care for her children, she merely had a hard time expressing her emotions. There were many mothers like that. It wasn't true Scarlett wanted to steal Ashley, she merely saw him as her dear, childhood friend who she cared for greatly, just as she cared for her children, her husband, Aunt Pitty, Beau, and Melanie herself. Her 'affair' with Ashley were just lies that India spun out of bitterness.
It would not be an understatement to say that Melanie Wilkes' heart was too understanding at times. She acknowledged all of the things her sister-in-law did for her, staying at Atlanta at the height of the War because she was then heavily pregnant with Beau, driving them all to Tara through two armies, letting them stay Tara despite the lack of food and money, giving Ashley a job so they would not have to go North and consort with Yankees, and none of what that sister-in-law did against her.
Scarlett would never let herself forget how badly she had treated Melly, who had always been the greatest friend one could ever have. Melly had stayed with her through thick and thin, through the disdain of the Old Guard and her friendship with the Scallywags and Carpetbaggers, all the while never thinking the worse of her like the rest of Atlanta did.
She had been blessed with the chance to finally do her part in their friendship, to treat Melly the way she deserved, and she would stop at nothing to be the great woman Melly considered her to be.
The piercing sound of hands knocking on wood tore her from her reverie, and when she realized that soon she would see Melly again, the real Melly and not the shriveled husk she had become as she laid on her deathbed, Scarlett's heart began to pound.
There was no one on earth as kind or forgiving as Melanie Wilkes. Surely, the woman would feel nothing but delight at her attempt of developing a closer friendship, right? Melly would never think that her sudden kindness was born out of regret and then reproach her for being such a bad friend before, right?
Scarlett knew her thoughts were outlandish, but she could not help it. For all her experience with charming men, she had never felt the need to ingratiate herself with women. She had always possessed an uncanny ability to make a mess of things, what if she carried that same propensity for disaster in her attempts to be a better friend to Melly?
Rhett's hand squeezed hers, and immediately she felt at peace. Her husband was with her, her children were near, and surely even her bad luck would pale at the overwhelming force of Melly's compassionate soul.
Together they climbed the steps of the Wilkes' whitewashed porch, and as the door creaked open, Scarlett knew that everything, no matter what, would be alright.
A/N: I know I'm late posting this so please don't hate me! I was hit by Laziness, the most artistically lethal of plagues, and couldn't find it in me to finish this chapter sooner.
I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to review and point out any mistake I might have made. Requests and suggestions are most welcome.