Sadly, I own nothing. Margaret Mitchell is the genius behind all things Gone With the Wind.

"She's not here."

Ashley Wilkes didn't want any confrontation with Rhett today. The two of them had existed in a perpetual state of avoidance, not exchanging more than polite pleasantries for years. Only once, just once, had both men actualized the mutual hatred they had for each other in physical contact.

When Rhett left Scarlett all those years ago, she was, in no uncertain way- lost. She went through the motions of her life as if on auto-pilot. Get out of bed – check. Shower- check. Eat – check. Take the kids to school – check. Go into the office- check.

Ashley hated this pale copy of Scarlett. His own world had just shattered with the passing of his wife. He needed the vivacity and vigor of his oldest friend to get him through the hell that was his life. His pitiful life- a pseudo life, alone with his son, without her. Mornings spent without her singing and cheerily talking to him while she made Beau's lunch for school. Nights without the sound of her sweet laughter as they watched old movies together. He would never see her face again or hear the animation or sing-song tone her voice would take on when she was excited. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear her. Hear her as if she was still there with him and not rotting six feet under in the cemetery next to St. Patrick's church.

"And then you know what? I just told her that she was wrong and that I was right. Just like that! Can you believe it, Ashley?! Of course, Scarlett said I should have called Diane some of the very colorful words she is so fond of using, but I was quite proud of myself."

She had been told consistently throughout her life that she was often too kind and needed to stand up for herself. She was so happy that she firmly corrected Diane Parks, the 3rd grade teacher across the hall from her classroom on the correct fire drill procedure for their hall. He would never forget the brightness in her eyes, or the way she stopped what she was doing and looked Ashley right in the eyes as she spoke, her debilitating shyness long gone.

His house, once filled with the sweet smell of muffins or cupcakes and filled with sunlight filtering in through the delicate lace curtains, had become a mausoleum. He refused for anyone to clean or move anything that she had touched for fear that her smell and presence would be gone. He blamed himself that is was somehow his fault that she had lost the battle with cancer and actively sought out ways to punish himself. He had been married to the most wonderful woman he had ever met in his entire life, and he had treated her abominably. He had been unfaithful to her, he had lied to her, lusting after other women, and secretly harbored resentment and anger at her for having so much pain during sex- a horrible symptom caused by PCOS. He felt he didn't deserve to live, that it should have been he that died. He deserved it – not Melly.

Beau, their only son, had become a stranger to him. Neither father nor son had much to converse about apart from their mutual grief. The nights were the worst. At least during the day, he could fill his mind with work or some other task. Nights with Beau were solemn affairs spent eating whatever they could whack in the microwave and eat in front on the television. Anything was fine. They weren't picky when it came to food. Cereal, a tin of corn, maybe days old pizza- it didn't matter. They ate it all the same: in silence as they pretended to stare intensely at whatever mind-numbing program was on.

His bright spot of the day would be seeing Scarlett. She was so beautiful and expressive. Even if she was filled with frustration and anger at him, screaming at him that he needed to pull himself together for Beau's sake, he didn't care. Her passionate fury made him remember that life was still worth living. But now, she too, was gone.

He hadn't had any real interaction with her in weeks. They occupied the same building, but went days without seeing one another and almost a week without any communication other than the polite pleasantries of good morning, how was your day, and good night. He gathered up the nightmare of numbers he had created on his laptop and walked toward her office on the other end of the floor – opposite his. This wasn't the first time he had tried to bring her out of her comatose existence.

"Scarlett, I think I've made a mess of these ledgers again. I'm awful at Excel. Do you mind taking a look?"

Ashley waited in anticipation. Her typical reaction would be one of over-exaggerated irritation.

"How many times do I have to tell you Ashley!? Do NOT mess with the formulas I've created! Just enter the damn number and nothing else! Don't even hit enter! Just put in the numbers! "

Instead of her hot-tempered response, she fiddled with her wedding band, turning it around her ring finger with her left thumb. " I'll look at it later Ashley. I don't really need it right now anyway."

He moved into her office, her sacred space where he had never even dared to enter without her permission, leaving his usual spot near the door frame. He had leaned against that door frame thousands of times throughout the years they worked together; the wood had actually worn down and the paint had chipped off.

"Scarlett? You want to talk about it ?"

"No", she firmly stated as she moved from behind her desk to shove file folders and papers into the worn banker's boxes she had used for years. He had implored her to buy some decent file cabinets since the first year they were in business. "Why buy a file cabinet when these do the job just as well and are free?" she would say.

Was she crying? He thought he heard her quiet sobs earlier and studied her lovely green eyes for the proof. They were red and swollen and seemed to tilt up even more at the ends than usual. She was definitely crying.

"Rhett came to get Bonnie for the weekend."

"Is this the first time you've seen him since…well, since you separated?". Ashley couldn't believe his boldness. This was none of his business but he couldn't help himself.

She sat on the old plaid couch that had become more of a dumping ground than a piece of furniture, pushing books and papers aside to create a space for her small body. "No, but this is the first time we actually had a conversation. We were both, I guess you could say, polite to each other in the beginning. I told him that Bonnie needed to take her amoxicillin twice a day since she's still getting over strep. He asked me how much to give her and I showed him. And, I swear Ashley, when I took the measuring cup from his hand and we touched, he looked at me like he used to. I thought, for a moment, that he would say he didn't want a divorce and we could try and make it work. But, as usual, I was wrong. When I gave him the number of the pediatrician, do you know what he told me? He said that he didn't need the number because he was the one to always bring her to the doctor in the first place and that it would be best if I kept the number handy since I didn't usually have anything to do with my children and wouldn't have a clue who their pediatrician was. It's over. It's really over. My marriage is over."

She laid her head in hands and began to cry.

He bent down on his knees, taking her hand in his. "Scarlett, don't cry. Please, my brave girl. Please, don't cry."

She looked up at him, directly in his eyes. Her green eyes shone brightly against her pale skin. Her lips were red and swollen and trembling. She looked so innocent, so vulnerable, so completely alluring.

"Ashley", she whispered in that breathlessly voice that drove him insane with lust.

That was it. That's what did it. Ashley acted without thinking and brought his right hand to caress her cheek and kissed her. He kissed her with the same passion and fury as the night of the party years back when they decided to end things between them for good.

Her lips were as soft as he remembered and he drank them in as if were a dying man lying in a parched desert. He could smell the scent of lavender coming from her hair and the minty residue of toothpaste. Opening his eyes to look at her, he caught a glimpse of the sun's rays reflecting off the enormous seven carrot sized diamond engagement and wedding rings.

"She's married. And she's hurting. She's not thinking clearly ", the thoughts plagued his mind.

Before he could stop and fiercely apologize for his forward behavior, he could feel her kissing him back. He could feel her fingers on the back of his neck, demanding more of his kisses. She needed him as much as she needed her. She pulled him towards her as she laid back on the tattered sofa. He kissed her neck and collarbone, causing her to whimper a response.

"Ashley, please. Help me forget."

He nervously fumbled with the buttons on her blouse before feeling his body being forcefully lifted from on top of her. Immediately, a vice- like pressure was felt on the side of his head. He was confused - seeing faded images of lights and movement. He could hear whooshing sounds as if he were surrounded by the ocean's waves and he thought he could hear Scarlett screaming and a low growling sound before he lost all consciousness.

Ashley awoke to the pin prick laser light being shone into his eyes. " Sir, can you hear me ? " a pimpled and pock- marked EMT was asking him. " Do you know where you are? "

He struggled to sit up only to be forced down by the heavy feeling of nausea.

"I'm at work". The way he said it, it sounded more like a question than a statement.

In the corner of the room, Scarlett's voice could be heard. She was explaining to someone official what had happened. It was either the EMTs or the police, Ashely didn't know- he could only hear the static- filled voices coming through the two-way speakers.

"Yes, my husband and I recently separated."" It's been a very emotional time for both of us." "No, my husband would've not harmed Ashley under normal circumstances"." This is my fault. He found me in a rather complicated situation with another man. How would you expect him to react?"

Had Rhett walked in? Had it been he who lifted his body off of Scarlett and threw him to the ground like a rag doll? And was Scarlett defending him? Ashley was confused and the unanswered questions only caused his head to pound even harder. Turning his head to the left, he vomited on the EMT taking his blood pressure.

The EMT, totally unfazed from being vomited on (did that happen a lot he wondered), told him that he probably had a concussion and that they wanted to take him to hospital just to be sure he was okay. Ashley tried to listen to them and focus on what they were saying but his attention was drawn elsewhere.

Scarlett hadn't even given him a glance. She never once even inquired if he were okay. Her complete attention was on Rhett.

Rhett, seated on the very same sofa that Ashley had been thrown off of, looked like a caged animal with his arms pulled back in handcuffs. His normally impeccable dress and demeanor had become that of a wild man. His bloodshot black eyes were firmly fixated on Scarlett. From the wordless exchange between Rhett and Scarlett, Ashley knew that he never stood a chance. She loved Rhett as fiercely as he loved her. Their separation would never end in a divorce- regardless of what they said. And as Ashley was wheeled out of the office and into the ambulance, Scarlett stayed behind, talking softly to Rhett as she smoothed back the stands of his hair that had fallen into his face.

"I'm sorry, Rhett. I'm so sorry.", Ashley could hear her say. At that moment, he decided to truly let Scarlett go. To let her go from his daily life, his thoughts, fantasies, and desires. He would maintain a professional relationship with her, but would that be all, and he would never interfere in her marriage again.

"I know she isn't here. I came here to talk to you." Rhett said as he took a seat in the worn leather chair across from him. Ashley shifted in his chair nervously. "How can I help you? ", he tersely stated as he kept his eyes looking downward at the keyboard of his lap-top. He wanted Rhett out of his office as soon as possible. He could never understand what Melly saw in him.

"Rhett is so kind to Scarlett. I've never seen another man be so attentive to his wife during pregnancy." She had practically swooned over Rhett's obsession with Scarlett's diet during her pregnancy with Bonnie. Ashley wasn't convinced that it was love driving Rhett's actions. He contributed his new-found attentiveness to his wife because of his not wanting her to gain too much weight. He made no secret of the fact that he saw Scarlett as no more than a mere pet and wanted to keep her presentable as he paraded her around town.

"I'm sure you've heard about what happened with Ella."

Despite himself, Ashley could feel himself begin to panic. After his last physical altercation with Rhett, Ashley avoided anything to do with Scarlett's marriage. He never offered an opinion and NEVER became involved. It hadn't always been easy, but he stuck to his rule. About three years ago he had noticed a small bruise on Scarlett's left cheek. He was sure that Rhett had given it to her. He wanted, more than anything, to ask her about it; to demand an answer. But he didn't. He didn't pry.

"I only know what my sister told me."

Rhett let out a breath of air that sounded like a huff. He found it hard to believe that Scarlett hadn't run to her "white knight" and unburdened herself of her troubles in the comfort of his weak and feeble arms.

"Has she mentioned anything to you? Scarlett, I mean. She hasn't been herself lately and I'm concerned."

Maybe that's because you threw her daughter out of your house like the asshole you are. Ashley wished he could say the words that came into his brain. "No. Nothing out of the ordinary. She seems quieter, but I don't ask her any questions. I figure if she wants to talk, she'll come to me. "

For some reason, the comfortable way he spoke of "Scarlett coming to him to talk "angered Rhett. If Scarlett wanted to talk, she would come to him – her husband. Not some spineless coward who only lusted after her body and never cared for a thought that came out of her mind.

"Still too scared to make the first move, are you Wilkes?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

Rhett pulled out a cigar and bit the tip off. "You'll excuse me if I don't believe that she hasn't said a word to you. Isn't this familiar territory for you? Pouncing on her when she's upset and vulnerable?"

"You can't smoke in here. And if you're implying that I try and force myself on your wife when she's upset…"

"You've done it before! And I don't just mean the time I found you on top of her either. Wasn't it you who suggested she banish me from her bed? Because you couldn't even bear to think of me touching her? The first time I met her was when she was upset because you had told her that the two of you had to stop sleeping together! You were screwing her behind your wife's back. And when you found it too difficult to act on your erotic impulses, you made sure she was keeping herself virtuous for you by making her reject me. Tell me Wilkes, did you confess your immoral sins to your loving wife before she died? "

Ashley hated being reminded of that time in his life. His behavior with Scarlett during his marriage to Melanie repulsed him. He was appalled at the way he continually slept with Scarlett those early years, sneaking into sleazy hotels with her, quietly spending the night with her in her apartment- holding back moans and grunts as he was with his wife's best friend; while her son, his nephew, slept in the room next door. The worse part about it was that it was a regular thing. At least twice a week, despite telling himself that each time would be the last, he would find himself indecently having sex with Scarlett. Each time she would breathlessly say that she loved him as she approached that moment of ecstasy, and he – appallingly would reply that he loved her too.

At Frank and Suellen's engagement party, he went with the steely determination that he would end things with her once and for all. He would tell her tonight. He could not betray his wife any longer. But when he saw her, looking the way she did in her simple green dress, he wavered. As they sat together at the long table with other friends and family, he reached under the long purple table cloth covering them and began to stoke her leg all the way up to her thigh. She turned to face him with the unmistakable look of lust in her eyes. He followed her as she walked into the house, stopping in the hallway to kiss her. As she began to respond, tilting her head back as he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear, he broke away.

Telling her that they could not continue like this anymore was hard. Seeing her cry and seethe in fury at him was even harder. It took all the determination of a marathon runner to walk away from her. He had determined to forget this incident, only to be confronted by the fact that they had not been alone in the house during this adieu; Rhett Butler has been lying on the large sectional sofa witnessing the entire exchange.

"I know you don't have a high opinion of me , Rhett, and I deserve nothing more than that, but I do not have any clue about your wife's emotional status. Have you tried to ask her about it?"

"Do you think I would be here talking to you if she had told me anything? I ask her what's wrong and she tells me that's she's fine. I ask her opinion on a subject, and she says she's fine with whatever I decide. I tried to provoke her two days ago by mentioning that she looked as though she had put on some weight. Not even a single swear word or a threat to cut my balls off. "

The last time he had suggested such a thing to her, she had taken after him with such anger, hurling whatever she could get her hands on at him. " Come near me and I'll fucking kill you. I will FUCKING cut your balls off, you degenerate! Take a good look you asshole, because you won't be TOUCHING my fat ass again! "

"I even apologized to Ella and asked her to come back home, and still – nothing. It's like she's not there. She's almost like she was right after …... the baby."

Ashley thought for a moment. That terrible accident with the baby had been awful for them all. He would never forget how pale and lifeless Scarlett looked as they lowered the tiny coffin into the earth.

"Did she say where she was going today? I've been calling and texting her for hours and it keeps going to voicemail. Even Mammy doesn't know. Ashley, if you know anything, please tell me."

Rhett was desperate. He loved Scarlett in a way that Ashley never could. Loved her with such an intensity he never knew about or had ever felt. Even with his own wonderful wife, Ashley had never experienced that passionate, all-encompassing love.

He folded his hands together and placed his two index fingers on his lips as thought he was deep in thought. "Have you tried calling Frank, or the store? She might be there with Ella. "

"Yes, I spoke with them both. She's not with either of them or at the store. They hadn't heard from her. I even called Sue and asked her if she was at Tara. Nothing."

"What about Wade? Has he heard from her? Maybe Cathleen or Maybelle?"

Rhett shook his head. "Wade has been trying to get in touch with her as well. He said he hasn't spoken with her in days, and usually he speaks to her every night. Ashley, you don't think she did anything stupid or hurt herself, do you?"

Rhett furrowed his brow thinking of all the places his wife could be. "I'm going to go look in her office. Maybe there's something in there that will tell me where she is."

Ashley nodded his head in agreement.

"Rhett, if I hear anything, I'll let you know immediately. I'm sure she's fine."

"Thank you, Ashley."