I'm baaaaaaaaaaack! Did ya miss me? I bet y'all did! I had serious writer's block! ENJOY!
SCARLETT'S POV
She rushed into the house and into the dining room. It didn't matter what happened next, she needed a drink. She rushed to the bottle and poured a small glass, draining it. She put the glass down and sank into a seat. She took a few uneven breaths and calmed her heart rate.
She looked across the table to Rhett's empty spot. She moved to her spot, beside his and sank into it. She looked at his place for a moment and stood up to walk upstairs.
She passed the railing, seeing the red stain on the carpet. She gulped. Now she just remembered feelings, not much action. Feelings and words.
Thrill. Excitement. Disappointment. Pride. Anger. Fury. Then she remembered his evil comment. "Maybe you'll have a miscarriage." Her mind screamed at him and she lunged, he side-stepped and she was sent tumbling down the stairs. Pain. Anguish. Exhaustion. Her eyelids were too heavy, she was so tired...
The next thing she remembered she was waking in Rhett's bed. Why was she here? Was the last few painful, torturous months of her life just another awful dream? Maybe Rhett was here. "Rhett?" she called weakly, "Rhett?" She needed him. "Rhett?" A small hand stroked hers.
"It's me, darling."
"Melly…I need-someone…" she mumbled but she was forgetting what she wanted. "I want- need- I need-."
Melanie's hand moved to her forehead. "What do you need, darling?"
"I don't- don't..." Before she could remember unconsciousness overcame her again and she lay still.
Tears pricked her eyes and she fell beside the stain. She stroked it carefully. 'My poor, poor baby,' she cried in her head.
"Scarlett?"
"Yes, Rhett?" Since her recovery she had been weak and pale but still had her Scarlett O'Hara vigor.
He looked at her through tortured eyes. "Do you know the baby you told me about?"
"Yes," she said, looking at her stomach. She patted it lovingly.
He looked back through even more tortured eyes. "It died, Scarlett."
"What?" she said, snapping her head to look at him. "Is this just a sick joke, Rhett Butler?"
He looked down. "No, Scarlett, you had a miscarriage."
She stood up and walked slowly up the stairs, remembering bits and pieces of her life with Rhett. She remembered the first day they moved in her.
"We had to spend our wedding night at a hotel but we can have a second one here," he whispered in her ear.
She looked into his black eyes and smiled. "First I have to look at the place, Rhett."
He laughed and unlocked the door. He reached his arms around her waist and swung her into his arms. She laughed in delight and when he stepped through the door she allowed him to put her down. She reached her arms around his neck and let his lips go over hers.
She got the similar dizzy feeling she now loved and stepped away. "Let's go." She took his hand and led him through the house.
They looked at each room carefully, Scarlett made sure that each detail was perfect. Rhett watched her, laughing, his eyes sparkling. When she turned to look at him her eyes were also sparkling.
She made her way to Rhett's bedroom and walked through the door. She opened his closet door and pulled out one of his old dress robes. She took it and ran her fingers over the cloth.
She brought it to her nose and she inhaled the smell. It smelled like cigars, whiskey, and something else. Him. It smelled like Rhett.
Tears fell down her pale cheeks and she unbuttoned the buttons on her dress. She slid it off and ripped at the corset. She undressed until she was clad only in her chemise. She wrapped the robe around her and rocked back and forth, absorbing the smell.
RHETT'S POV
He exited Belle's barroom, rushing out the doors. His coat was in his hand. He had been rushing and hadn't the time to put it on. He rushed down the street.
He knew the way to his and Scarlett's house. He slowed his pace and calmed his own heart. It would do him no good to go in that house in a Scarlett fever.
He just had to talk to her. See if she meant what she said. If not, he would leave. Simple as that, he would say he was sorry to get her hopes up and walk out the door. He would not live with her if she didn't really love him. He couldn't do that to himself again.
He took a deep breath and went through his and Scarlett's rocky marriage. There were moments- beautiful blissful moments where he thought she might love him. He started to live for those moments.
At night, her body beside him. His arms would be around her. She would snuggle into his embrace, her nightgown and his nightshirt being the only thing separating them. She would yawn and melt in closer.
He would wrap his arms around her protectively, as if to say to an invisible person that she was his. His and his alone. She would fall asleep and he would kiss the top of her head and bury his lips in her hair.
He loved her hair. It was thick and black and long. If she wore it up it gave him access to her neck but if she wore it down he would wrap it around his neck, smelling it. He loved those moments.
He found the door unlocked. 'Scarlett must be home,' he thought. He opened the heavy wooden door and peaked in.