Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Without Margaret Mitchell, this work would not exist. I do not own any part of Gone With The Wind, and no money is being made from this story.

Chapter Two: You Want To Go Where?

Rhett walked briskly past his wife, fighting every urge to lash out at her in anger - or pin her against the wall or throw her to the bed as he had on that wild night so long ago. He tried to curb his emotions, but all he truly wanted to do was reach out to her.

His words to his wife earlier that evening had been hollow; he still loved her, but for some perverse reason, he and Scarlett were always at cross purposes. If he didn't get out of the house and away from her, he might never leave, and if Rhett was sure of anything, it was that he had to put some distance between the two of them. There had been a few moments when he had almost changed his mind about leaving since Scarlett had followed him up the stairs. If he stayed, they would slowly kill each other.

It was a miracle that they hadn't in the twelve years they had known each other.

Scarlett was angry, and she was hurt. Rhett smirked, as he reckoned that only now, with Melly dead, did his wife finally realize that Melanie Wilkes was the best, most loyal friend she had ever had. Even he, in the height of their relationship after she had married Frank, had not treated and defended Scarlett as Melanie had. What a fool his wife was!

When Scarlett was Mrs. Frank Kennedy, Rhett had long been in love with her, and it had nearly destroyed him to know that she was married and carrying another man's child. Visions of her sleeping beside her second husband or that oaf enjoying her supple body had driven Rhett to drink himself to near-oblivion many nights. Thinking about it now, all these years later still maddened him.

Escorting her back and forth to the mills, past Shantytown had been just as much about Scarlett's safety, as it had been about his sanity. Frank Kennedy had been a fool not to protect Scarlett, and it ultimately cost him his life. Rhett had done what any man who was in love would do. Scarlett had never thought to consider the motivation behind his actions.

Melanie, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely love her friend, no matter what stories abounded or whether Scarlett treated her poorly. Scarlett did not understand how to treat people and often took them for granted. Melanie was one such example. Melly had stood staunchly behind Scarlett after the disaster on Ashley's birthday when the Old Guard had wanted to crucify her. A division of Atlanta society had been started by Melly when she refused to believe India, Archie, or Mrs. Elsing's accusations of impropriety between Scarlett and Ashley. Rhett wondered if Scarlett knew or fully appreciated just what Melanie had done on her behalf. Melanie's steadfast but misplaced loyalty to Scarlett had set in motion a divide that might take generations to heal.

Rhett quickly tried to push all thoughts of Ashley aside; Scarlett would never go to Ashley - not now. She may have been tempted during the war and after they married, but for some time, Rhett had noticed a difference in his wife's demeanor when she was forced to interact with her wooden headed knight. Rhett had never fully understood Scarlett's obsession with her foolish childhood crush, but Rhett was confident that in his absence, she would not run to the new widow. It was only out of habit that he had thrown the accusations at his wife. If Scarlett hadn't already realized the truth about Ashley Wilkes, she soon would. The man was an albatross around any woman's neck.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rhett flinched. Was it possible that Scarlett finally loved him? He had waited for over a dozen years for his wife to realize that she loved him, but Rhett wondered if he had dreamed her confession. Those were definitely not the words he expected to hear from Scarlett's lips tonight, especially now that her unrequited love was available. Rhett shook his head to try to clear the ringing in his ears. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was struggling to shake away the gnawing fear that he was doing precisely what he had accused his wife of only hours earlier: throwing away love with both hands. Rhett felt a heady mixture of fear and excitement and dread.

Without any further delay, Rhett walked down the corridor towards the rear of the house. As he opened the back door, darkness enveloped him like the thick velvet curtains his wife favored. Rhett allowed his eyes to adjust to the night before stepping outside of the house for the final time. He let his eyes wander from the carriage house across the manicured lawns to the spot where his Bonnie had died. Even in the darkness, Rhett could picture the events of that day clearly. A swirl of blue velvet. A loud cracking noise. A deafening gunshot. He doubted his ability ever to forget those moments which had been repeated in both his waking moments and restless sleep.

Rhett walked briskly towards the servant's house, where he was sure Pork had retreated to. Knocking softly on the door, Rhett frowned, remembering how often he had pounded on this door recently. In his drunken state after Bonnie's death, he had been unable most nights to get himself into bed without Pork's assistance.

"Pork?"

"Yes, sir?" Rhett heard the shuffling of feet, and the creak of the floorboards as Pork made his way to the door. Given the events of the last few hours, Rhett guessed that Pork was startled at this incursion into the servant's quarters.

"I need your assistance. Could you pack up my belongings and have them shipped to Charleston sometime this week?" Rhett sighed, noticing the unmistakable look of understanding that crossed Pork's face. Usually, Pork was able to keep his expression neutral. It was not a servant's place to judge the lives and inner workings of the Butler marriage, but in this unguarded moment, Rhett sensed Pork's disapproval. "Right now, though, I need the carriage to take me to the train station. If I hurry, I may be able to catch the last train out tonight."

"Yes, sir. Right away."

Pork hurried past him on his way to the carriage house. Rhett stood outside the servant's house, realizing that his options were virtually non-existent. He had not planned on leaving Atlanta right away or at all. Following Scarlett's outburst, there was no way Rhett could imagine another night spent under the same roof with his wife, which meant that he would be unable to remain in town for Melanie's funeral.

Scarlett had forced his hand, and now there was nothing to be done but for Rhett to flee once again. Regret over missing Melly's burial loomed large and Rhett could think of no alternative.

Though he had lived in or spent considerable time in Atlanta over the last dozen years, Rhett had nowhere to go, and there was no one he could turn to. His behavior and treatment of people meant that every house, save his own, was closed to him. The Old Guard, while sympathetic to him over the loss of his daughter, was unlikely to open their homes to him. Besides Belle, who obviously didn't count, he had no friends in Atlanta. People would gossip about his abrupt departure, but eventually, in a few months, everyone would forget about him.

Rhett fought the urge to go to Belle's place. Appearing on her doorstep would only lead to a night of drinking and whoring, and that was the farthest thing from what he wanted. While Scarlett and the children had been in Marietta, he had finally sobered up. Hell, Belle had even kicked him out of her place when he had gotten so drunk and belligerent that other customers had begun to complain. The fact that he had helped set up her business meant nothing to the whore. Even Belle had turned on him in the end.

Rhett laughed bitterly at his words to his wife only hours before. Both Scarlett and Belle had turned out to be rather bad investments. There was no way he would admit that to either woman.

When asked, Rhett had smoothly lied to his wife. He hadn't exactly planned on leaving his wife or Atlanta. If a painless departure had been his goal, he would have been gone as soon as her train departed towards Marietta. His empty words were issued to protect himself and hurt Scarlett in the process. It was a childish and thoughtless reaction, and Rhett was mortified that he had chosen the occasion of Melanie Wilkes' death to speak his peace finally.

As he walked along the path towards the front of the house to wait for the carriage, Rhett's eyes wandered to Scarlett's window. Hers was black, which meant she was probably still sitting in his former room. He gazed up at the sky, which was cloudless now that the light rain and mist had cleared, to look at the twinkling stars that were visible. As a blockade runner, he had spent many nights staring at them in the hopes that their spectacle would distract him from the memory of green eyes that haunted him. Maybe one day, they would.

Perhaps one day green would represent the color of grass or seaweed and not remind him of his wife's stunning eyes.

Standing in front of the house, Rhett exhaled deeply. It looked forlorn and abandoned. Why had he ever let Scarlett talk him into building it? It was horrific, but it had so excited his new bride that Rhett had simply washed his hands of it. The library had been his and only his. And his bedroom after he had been banished from her bed. The rest of the looming monstrosity reminded him of a gaudy whorehouse. Even Belle's place was more tastefully decorated.

Rhett listened as the carriage came around and halted in front of him. Climbing in, he rested his weary head against the plush upholstery. Part of him, as the carriage slowly began moving through the streets of Atlanta towards the train station, was surprised that Scarlett had not run from the house to stop him from leaving. She had finally listened to him.

As he watched the dark houses illuminated only by the lights in the window, Rhett grew angry with himself. He had not meant to say anything to Scarlett that night. Rhett could see, from the moment she walked in the door of their home, that she was emotionally vulnerable. Scarlett's closest, probably only friend, had died, and he had been a cad to announce his intention to depart and his feelings at a moment when Scarlett could not or would not fight him wholeheartedly.

His speech had been an attempt to preempt his wife's request for the dissolution of their marriage. Much of what he said had been uttered because he expected no argument from his Scarlett.

Had he meant what he said to her? Some of it was true. A lot of it wasn't if Rhett was honest with himself. He knew he was capable of cruelty when it came to his wife. For the longest time, that had been his pattern in dealing with her apparent lack of feelings for him. It had become second nature to strike back at her. There had, at one time, also been an element of arousal in sparking her anger.

What sort of pandora's box had he inadvertently opened by saying he would come back to avoid the gossip? He was done with her, and then in the next breath, Rhett knew that it wasn't entirely true. If it were, he would never have uttered those words of hope, that he knew she would be obsessively pondering right now: keep the gossip down. Scarlett was like a bloodhound when she wanted something, and Rhett had made himself her prey. He should have kept his mouth shut and been as cruel as he could be with her. He should have burned every hope just as Sherman had done almost a decade before. But unlike Sherman, Rhett had inadvertently left open the door for his return. Life with Scarlett had become psychological warfare, and tonight he had shown her the weaknesses in his armor.

Rhett still wasn't able to process whether he was surprised by Scarlett's stunning declaration or not. That damn stupid woman had to blather on about Melly telling her that he loved her. Rhett wondered for a moment whether Scarlett would have realized it on her own had Melly, in her dying moments, not said anything. Would Scarlett have let him walk out the door had Melly not interfered? No, he doubted that Scarlett would have come to a conclusion on her own.

But Scarlett was too late in figuring out her own feelings, and Rhett wasn't sure if he quite believed her. At the moment, he was too scared and had still not come to grips with the loss of Bonnie. He couldn't deal with Bonnie's death and the guilt over his responsibility in the matter and deal with Scarlett's feelings for him. He was not going to get his hopes up. He didn't trust himself to believe that she loved him. And he would be damned if he was going to become an obsession just like Ashley Wilkes. Unlike that coward, Rhett did not require being adored by a woman.

Bonnie's death had not changed everything, but there was no way in hell he would allow his wife to discover that. He had told Scarlett maliciously that his love had worn out. Had his love for his wife died? No. Not in that moment but with enough distance and time away from his heartless wife, Rhett imagined it could. He had always maintained that Scarlett's love for Ashley was obsessive, but was his love for Scarlett any different? He had chased her when there was no hope of obtaining her, and once they were married, he had clung to the stubborn hope that one day his wife would return his feelings. Perhaps just as quickly as Scarlett's feelings for Ashley had evaporated, his would as well, and then he'd be able to breathe without feeling intense pain.

What a fucking liar I am, Rhett thought to himself. He would have left a lot sooner had he not been in love with Scarlett. He had told his wife that he had done everything to save their marriage; even that was a lie. Since Bonnie had been born, Rhett had worried little about the woman he claimed to love. If he couldn't have her, he would love their daughter to distraction instead.

He had married Scarlett, knowing his wife was in love with another man, but he had been convinced that he would change her. A honeymoon in New Orleans, a monstrosity of a home, jewelry, lavish gowns, and free reign with his ill-gotten gains had done little to win Scarlett over. He could have any woman he wanted, but for some reason, the only one he loved was immune to his charms and his money.

Rhett knew he was a liar and a coward. He had thrown the suggestion of a divorce at his wife before Scarlett could ask for one. He accused her of being a child and yet had just acted in the same way. Forty-five and she was making him act like a virginal schoolboy.

The simple truth was that he had fucked up. Scarlett's declaration of love had spurred him to talk, and now Rhett could hardly remember much of what he had said to his wife. What other blunders had he uttered? Fleeing up the stairs had been a ploy to allow him to regroup. But the damn woman had followed him. He had been trying to push her away, but even as the words slipped out of his mouth, Rhett knew he couldn't cut himself off from Scarlett - not wholly. Offering to come back to keep the gossip down was foremost so that he could have some excuse to see her again. He could spend a few months abroad, return to Atlanta, and if she was pining away for Ashley still, he could move forward with his threats of divorce.

He had thrown the words at Scarlett in an attempt to save himself the embarrassment, should he be wrong, of watching Scarlett throw herself at Ashley. Since Bonnie's death months back, he had considered leaving Scarlett in his more drunken moments, but he had tired of running.

Perhaps some time away from Atlanta was for the best. If he didn't leave tonight, Rhett highly doubted he ever would. Melanie's death, in a weird way, had spurred him out of the inaction of the last few years. Yet, every one of his instincts, even as he was approaching the depot, those same ones that had ensured his survival, were urging Rhett to stay.

Before Rhett knew it, they had arrived at the station. It was still bustling with activity as the last train from Macon was pulling up to the platform, and the last train bound for Charleston, via Augusta, was leaving shortly. He would have just enough time to purchase his first-class ticket before the train left. Stepping out of the carriage, Rhett felt the need to hurry. The last thing he wanted now was to be stuck in Atlanta overnight. Checking into the National would arouse suspicions and gossip amongst the many peahens of his wife's acquaintance. How Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Elsing always managed to hear the latest news still astounded him?

Rhett looked around the depot, grateful that he saw not one of his or Scarlett's acquaintances. He did not want to answer any awkward questions or have anyone remember his departure, on the same night as Melanie Wilkes' death.

"Pork, be sure that you arrange for my things - "

"Captain Butler! Is that you?"

Damn it! Henry Hamilton's voice carried down the length of the platform as the older man came rushing towards him. A few heads turned in Rhett's direction.

"Henry?"

"I came as soon as I heard." Henry was out of breath and looked harried. His silver hair, usually neatly combed, looked as if his hands had run through it multiple times, in his distress. "How's my niece?"

Rhett closely watched Henry's face as he muttered, "I'm sorry, Henry."

"Oh, dear God, they're both gone."

Deep lines were imprinted into Henry Hamilton's face. His face, ordinarily expressionless, now told of a man who was being given the worst kind of news by a man he despised. A more sorrowful look, Rhett had never seen. Henry's dark eyes glossed over, and his face fell. It was then that Rhett realized that now only Henry and his sister Pitty remained. Both their niece and nephew were dead, leaving behind Wade and Beau as the next generation of Hamilton's.

"Did you come to meet me, Captain Butler?" Henry asked, his voice quivering with emotion.

"Uh, no, I was just leaving."

"Leaving? You can't leave." Henry looked genuinely confused.

"I'm afraid I must." Rhett watched as Henry studied his face, and he hoped that Henry would not see the emotions that Rhett realized must be all too plainly etched on his face. "I've been called away to attend to some personal matters - "

"Captain Butler?"

Rhett nodded, looking towards his train. If he didn't hurry, he would certainly miss the last train.

"Did you care for or respect my niece?"

"Miss Melly?"

"Of course, I mean, Melanie."

Looking around the station at the people, rushing to step on the train or see to their belongings, Rhett exhaled. Melanie Wilkes was dead, but life continued for everyone else.

"I did, Henry. A great deal. Melanie Wilkes was one of the kindest, greatest ladies I've had the pleasure of knowing in my life." If he said another word, the chasm of grief would swallow him. Rhett thought back to the conversation he and Melanie had had after Scarlett's fall and her kindness to him after Bonnie's death. He owed Melanie, for she had been a good friend not only to him but also to Scarlett even when Scarlett had treated her wrongly. And Scarlett had. Countless times.

"Then how can you even think about leaving now? Her best friend, your wife needs you - "

"No, she needs Ashley." The words left his lips before he could stop them.

"You don't mean that." Henry watched him intently and stepped closer, to ensure he was heard above the din of the station. "That's an ugly rumor."

"It's not, Henry. I wish it were, but it is not."

Henry turned his head towards Pork, who stood off to the side. "Pork, can you gather my things? Captain Butler is going to accompany me home. Go on."

Rhett watched Pork hurry towards Henry and place his bags in the carriage.

"Henry, I'm afraid I can't - "

"Rhett, come with me." The tone of the older man's voice demanded obedience, and Rhett found himself following Henry, like a naughty child, as they exited the platform.

Back in the carriage, neither man spoke. Rhett wasn't sure why he had allowed himself to be steered back into the carriage and why he wasn't sitting on the train at that very moment watching Atlanta disappear before his eyes. This was madness. He would be forced to check into a hotel and then slip away in the morning.

When the carriage finally pulled up in front of the National Hotel, both men climbed out. Rhett smiled. He recalled that he and Henry had both called the Atlanta Hotel home before the Yankees had destroyed it. He and Scarlett had called the honeymoon suite of the National Hotel, home after their honeymoon while the house on Peachtree was under construction. Evidently, at some point, Henry had moved into the National. Rhett surmised that just like him, Henry felt more at ease in a hotel than anywhere else.

"Pork, go home. I'll arrange for my transportation to the station in the morning." Rhett looked forlornly at his manservant, hoping that Pork would keep this detour from Scarlett.

"Yes, sir."

Turning, Rhett followed Henry into the hotel and up to his rooms. Rhett scanned the lobby, not even considering that the likelihood of any one of importance recognizing him was minimal. Atlanta's Old Guard did not frequent the National.

Although not quite as luxurious as the honeymoon suite, the two rooms that Henry lived in were spacious and more than enough for a bachelor of Henry's advanced age. For a brief moment, Rhett wondered what the story was there. Despite an acquaintance of over a decade, Rhett knew very little about Henry Hamilton. Getting to know Scarlett's uncle by marriage had never seemed important or particularly attractive, beyond the political meetings they had both attended.

Henry set his bags down and immediately walked to a cabinet on the side that held a tray with various bottles and spirits. Rhett noted that Henry's hands shook noticeably as he poured himself a drink.

"Care for a drink, Rhett?" Henry was half-turned towards him, gesturing to the bottle in his hand.

Rhett, still standing by the door, shook his head. "I'd better not Henry, It's quite late, and I'll need to be at the station quite early."

That was only partially the truth. Since Scarlett's departure for Marietta, Rhett had not touched a drop of alcohol. It had been an exercise in supreme self-restraint but a necessary one. In all his years he had never been kicked out of a whorehouse. Belle's concern that he was going to kill himself also made Rhett think twice. Not a drop had passed his lips for some time, and he knew that if he started again, it would be the death of him.

"Then sit down," Henry ordered, gesturing towards a sofa. Filling his glass a second time, he took a long drink. Rhett could almost taste the burn of the whisky running down his throat. He swallowed and looked away.

"Rhett, if you don't mind my asking, where were you off to tonight?"

"Charleston." Rhett watched as the older gentlemen seemed to ponder his answer.

"Charleston? I don't mean to be rude, but can I ask you a rather personal question?"

Rhett nodded, and Henry gulped down the last of his drink and set the empty glass on the table in front of him. "Is this about Bonnie?"

"Bonnie?"

"Yes, your little girl just died, and everyone appreciates the grief that you must be feeling - "

"This isn't about Bonnie, Henry; it's about self-preservation. I can't stay with a woman who loves another man. Her heart belongs to him and has since the day I met her. I gambled and lost. I'm too old to play Scarlett's games anymore. I want to go somewhere that's not Atlanta. It's too raw here for me. I'll search for boredom and respectability someplace else."

"So, you're leaving Scarlett?" Was Rhett mistaken, or did Henry look saddened and defeated by the news?

Rhett nodded his head again. He was suddenly weary of this conversation. He had no idea why he was here.

"Are you divorcing her?" Henry stumbled over the offending word.

"I'd rather not say."

While Henry did not look happy at his refusal to answer, Rhett didn't care and returned Henry's penetrating stare.

"As you are fully aware of Rhett, I have known and represented Scarlett for years. To me, she will always be Charlie's widow and Wade's mother. I'm old enough to be her father and, despite not always appreciated how she, err, went about her business, I am concerned about her and the child. Children." Henry corrected himself. "Excuse me for asking, but having never been married, I don't understand why you feel the need to leave her and go to Charleston? What are you hoping to find there?"

Rhett could tell that Henry didn't like him and that he was only looking out for Scarlett and the children. With Wade being the only Hamilton male to carry on the family name, Henry was invested in the reputation of his great-nephew.

"I guess I'm simply trying to understand what going to Charleston is going to accomplish," Henry stated when Rhett did not speak.

"Scarlett and I need some time apart. We want different things. I want to try to regain what I can of my reputation and perhaps some peace of mind. I told Scarlett I would come home again to keep the gossip down here in Atlanta," Rhett admitted.

"You are a fool, young man," Henry chastised. "By going to Charleston, you will accomplish the exact opposite. How long do you believe it will take for the rumors to reach Charleston that you've left Scarlett? Nevermind, by going to Charleston, once again, you will have confirmed for the people of both glorious cities that you and Scarlett are separated. And where does that leave Scarlett and her children?"

Henry's voice was firm, and his words were blunt. Rhett sensed that Henry was most likely well aware of the rumors that had swirled not only around him but that had been uttered about Scarlett and him since the war. Henry did not say it, but Rhett was confident that the older gentlemen thought that Melanie would no longer be around to soothe people's feelings over the Butlers. Henry was probably tired of the rumors that were certain to ruin Wade's reputation and prospects for the future.

"And how long will it take for the rumors of your impending divorce to reach Charleston? You claim to want to make a life there once again, and yet news of your divorce from Scarlett will do just the opposite. It will effectively shut any doors that have been opened to you - by your wife, I must add."

Henry was correct. In his panic today, Rhett had ignored the fact that not only would a divorce exclude him from being accepted in Charleston, but it would do permanent harm to Scarlett and the children. If news of a divorce leaked out, and it most certainly would get back to the people of Charleston, any hope Rhett had of achieving respectability would vanish.

Rhett attempted to push the obvious out of his mind. He would be, for all intents and purposes, more of an outcast in Charleston if he left Scarlett. There was not enough money in the world to make him respectable once again if things ended with his wife. Rhett had been so determined to make Scarlett pay for her infatuation with Ashley, a true gentleman, that he had ignored that it was his wife who had opened the door to respectability once more. What was worse was that he had encouraged Scarlett to throw away her reputation, in the hopes that Ashley would no longer want her. Scarlett was the key to the respectability that he secretly craved, and Rhett was now on the brink of throwing it away for both of them.

Rhett knew that his departure would ruin Scarlett. If they divorced, he could undoubtedly travel abroad for the rest of his days when the people of Charleston turned their back on him again. But what would happen to Scarlett and Wade and Ella? Would any of them recover from the stigma of a divorce? Would they be forced to leave Atlanta behind? Where could a divorced woman with two small children go to escape the scandal of a failed marriage?

But if he listened to Henry and stayed, would he be stuck in a loveless, one-sided marriage? Could he live with seeing Scarlett every day, knowing that she was willing to offer him everything that he had once wanted?

And there wasn't just Scarlett and the children to consider. Would his mother fall victim to the hostile gossip? So far, it hadn't touched her - his mother had friends that were willing to ignore the malicious rumors about her son - but that had been the rumors associated with an irresponsible young man, not a husband and father. Rhett doubted that his grief over Bonnie would protect him from being shunned by the people of Charleston.

"And what are your terms for divorce?" Henry's voice shattered Rhett's thoughts. "If you can get one, which even with all your money and contacts, would be almost impossible to attain in South Carolina. Unless I'm wrong, Scarlett has the grounds to seek a divorce. You do not."

Rhett had never felt the need to hide his relationship with Belle Watling. In the heat of an argument with Scarlett, he had thrown Belle's name around with the sole purpose of hurting and humiliating his wife, in the same manner, her behaviors had hurt him. Everyone in Atlanta suspected that he spent far too much time in Belle's house; he has not hidden his frequent visits recently.

"I don't want anything from Scarlett," Rhett conceded. "The store, the house, and the land by the depot are all hers. I want to ensure that Scarlett and the children will be well-taken care of."

"Taken care of?" Henry repeated quizzically. "You do understand that divorce would ostracize both Scarlett and the children to a degree where they would be unable to remain in Atlanta. And the chances of either child being able to marry someone of their social class would be impossible. Does that sound familiar, Rhett?"

No one had ever said as much to him, but Rhett had known the truth since his departure from his father's home. No upstanding, respectable Southern family would ever allow him to marry into their family. His insistence that he was not a marrying man had been borne of that reality. Rhett had said it to protect himself and had been secretly grateful when Scarlett had agreed to marry him.

"Rhett, as someone who is concerned for both you and Scarlett, don't make any hasty decisions right away. Give it some time."

"How long?" Rhett hoped that his tone did not betray the defeat that he felt.

"Damn it, Rhett, I don't know." Henry slammed his glass on the desk, sloshing liquid onto the table. "By the looks of it, you and Scarlett have been blundering through this relationship for the last twelve years. Are neither of you tired of all the rumors and excitement you create in this town? First, consider your behavior when she was a widow during the war. Then, think about how it looked when you escorted a heavily pregnant woman around town when her husband was still alive. Your relationship with a whore and Scarlett's friendship with her brother in law doesn't help matters any. The pair of you are so frustrating. You both play by your own rules and look where it has gotten you - unhappy and on the verge of divorce. How long did it take you to catch her?"

"I never did, Henry." Rhett wished he had accepted Henry's offer of a drink. Was it too late now? "I never did."

"So maybe you should. Rhett, you don't want to end up like me. I love my work, and it keeps me active and busy, but it will never take the place of a wife and children. You can still have that, or you can throw it away. I will probably work until the day I die because I have no one to go home to." Henry swigged the last of his drink. "And perhaps it would be best not to make any assumptions about what Scarlett wants or doesn't want, what she thinks, feels, needs - listen to her. If the rumors are true, you've both done things to hurt each other."

"I can't stay here in Atlanta. In that house."

"Then take her to that damn farm she loves, take her anywhere. You don't have to stay in Atlanta."

"Henry?"

"Yes?"

Rhett wasn't sure if he had any right to ask, but Henry's words had aroused his curiosity. "Why did you never marry?"

"It's a long and boring story, Rhett." Rhett watched Henry's eyes flit across the room as if he was searching for something.

"Apparently, I have the time to listen," Rhett drawled, and Henry turned his head to smile at him. Henry shifted in his seat and looked despondently at the empty glass in front of him.

"When I was a young man, there was a young woman that I hoped to marry, but her family, despite my family's reputation, thought that marrying a lawyer was beneath her. When I asked her father for permission to court her, he turned me down. The next thing I knew, she was about to marry a planter's son. I was so angry that I devoted myself to my work." Henry looked up at Rhett. "That's where I was tonight."

"Excuse me?" Rhett asked. This was news to him. He had never heard Scarlett speak of Henry Hamilton's past, and Rhett wondered if she even knew this information about her first husband's uncle.

"The woman in question is now a widow living in Macon." Henry smiled weakly and shrugged his shoulders. "I visit her from time to time when I can. Although, I would appreciate it if you did not disclose that information to anyone, especially my sister. "

"Harry, why would your sister or anyone, for that matter, be concerned with how, or with whom, you spend your time?"

Henry looked uncomfortable at the mention of Pitty. There had always been strain between brother and sister that no one had been able to explain to Rhett adequately.

"As you well know, Rhett, my sister, and I are not very close due to her rather foolish nature." Henry seemed to hesitate. "Sarah was - how shall I say this without sounding harsh - a rather ordinary and timid belle. One young man - a cousin to the young woman I was to marry - approached my father a few years after my rejection in the hopes of marrying my sister."

Watching a range of emotions dance across Henry's face, Rhett sat patiently in his chair. Rhett faintly remembered Scarlett mentioning a falling out between Henry and his sister over a non-existent gold mine and Pitty's desire to invest five hundred dollars in the scheme, but it had failed, at the time it was disclosed to Rhett, to explain the sibling relationship adequately.

"I'm ashamed to admit it, Rhett, but in my anger over my own failed attempt to court - " Henry paused, possibly on the verge of identifying the name of the woman he visited. "I encouraged my father to turn down my sister's beau for purely selfish reasons: I was still hurting, and I couldn't stand to see Sarah happy."

Rhett saw the regret and shame written on Henry's face.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of the story, but years later, when my brother and his wife, Melly and Charlie's parents, were killed, the children were both very young. With my mother gone and my father's health in decline, it fell to Sarah and I to raise the children. I hoped that nurturing our niece and nephew would alleviate some of my guilt. It has not."

Sarah Jane "Pittypat" Hamilton had never married and been able to have children on her own. She had selflessly raised Melly and Charlie, her orphaned niece and nephew, loving them in place of the children she would never have. They were the only children she would ever have, and their children would be the only grandchildren she would ever love.

And Henry Hamilton had been to blame.

"My sister never found out that I had stood in the way of her marrying, and I'd like your discretion, Rhett, in this matter. When Sarah finds out that I've rekindled a relationship of sorts with this woman, I'm not sure how she will react."

Rhett hoped that Pitty never discovered her brother's interference in her life, and instead considered how she had carried out her duty to her family. Rhett wondered how Pitty had reacted to the loss of Melanie? Both her children were now gone. Did she worry about who would care for her in her advanced age?

"Henry?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I want to leave Scarlett. But I know that I honestly don't want to go to Charleston."

"Rhett, I'm tired, and tomorrow is going to be a long day. You are welcome to sleep here. But under no circumstances are you going to go anywhere before Melly is laid to rest." Henry stood up and looked wearily at Rhett. "Rhett, when you love someone, you don't run away."

Perhaps Henry was correct, Rhett thought, watching Henry walk into his bedroom and close the door behind him. Maybe he should wait a little longer before making any rash decisions. Bonnie was gone, and Melly had just died, but Rhett doubted he was making a mistake. Was it possible he had misread Scarlett? What if Scarlett didn't let him back into her life? By nature, he was a gambler and a risk-taker, but with his heart at risk, Rhett wasn't sure he wanted to place the bet. If he wagered and lost, the outcome might be disastrous.

A.N. I will admit to having read the final chapter of GWtW more times than I can count. Based on experience, it IS possible to fall out of love with someone, and love can die. Based on his history of hiding the truth, was Rhett's speech a pile of B.S., or did he mean it?

Rhett talks a big game throughout GWtW, and none is more significant than his views on one's reputation. I also wonder if he would pick Charleston society over his "uneducated, Irish wife" who GAVE him back his reputation? After Melanie dies, would leaving Scarlett and the children, when they need him most, be just another act of cruelty and selfishness on Rhett's part? Rhett also courted Scarlett for such a long time that maybe he had unrealistic expectations going into their married life. The Scarlett of his fantasies was not the Scarlett he ended up with. Once they married, Rhett couldn't just disappear and instead is reminded daily that he had failed to win her love.

I always wondered whether Rhett had any friends? Scarlett might have been one at some point, but Melly might be the only person who Rhett could honestly call a friend. He pays Belle to be his "friend," and no member of Atlanta's Old Guard likes him. Rhett does not seem to have any relationship with his father or brother or sister, and Ashley will never be a friend. Does he have friends in New Orleans or Charleston? Rhett seems to be a loner who doesn't always know how to deal with people.

While Rhett does blame himself for Scarlett's accident and Bonnie's tragic accident, after that final speech someone needed to remind Rhett that he wasn't a victim or innocent bystander. Henry Hamilton seemed like the right choice. I took some "liberties" with the Aunt Pitty/Uncle Henry story, but I always thought there was more to their story than the non-existent gold mine story.

I want to thank all of the lovely readers out there, including gabyhyatt, Livisa, Truckee Gal, Sprout76, flwrs81, Ninigi, and Guest 1, 2, 3 & 4. You have no idea how much I appreciate your reviews and PMs. Thank you to everyone who has favorited or followed this story.

All feedback is appreciated; please read and let me know what you think. Thanks!