Shout out to Leaf Huntress and her Chicago reference. They had it coming. They only had themselves to blame. If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I bet you you would have done the same. I'm such a nerd for certain musicals. I hope you all enjoy, I'm going to take a nap.

Listen, I'm crazy. I do all sorts of weird things. Like make pretzels with chocolate cookie dough inside, so who knows what will happen.

Oh, I'm also rewriting chapter one. That thing was thrown out there as context and I kinda despise it.

"Rhett…"

In lieu of a reply, Rhett's mouth crashed down on hers. It was impossible to focus with him kissing her like that. She'd never been able to resist him. And worse, he knew it.

Awareness flooded her mind, bringing her back from oblivion and chilling her spine.

There was only one way the evening would end if she didn't put a stop to it, and it would cause all sorts of issues if she wasn't careful to avoid it. The last thing Scarlett wanted was to force herself into reconciling with a man who didn't love her. It would make their mess of a relationship more complicated. True, she wanted him, but she wasn't willing to sacrifice her sanity for it. And if she had a baby…

"Rhett, stop."

He mumbled something against her mouth, undeterred by her sudden displeasure.

"Stop."

Rhett finally obliged, pulling himself upright. Scarlett slid herself out from under him, returning to the previous stiff posture she'd had at the beginning of the conversation.

"What's wrong, Scarlett?"

He kept moving closer, his unique scent threatening to cloud her judgment. She shied away in turn, but he only drew nearer-and there was only so much couch left.

"Rhett, please. Don't. I don't want to do this."

"Do what?"

"I won't… have relations… with a man who isn't my husband."

He chuckled lightly at her moral dilemma. "We were married for about seven years. I should think I count after all I invested in you."

It was always money with him. That's all she had ever been: an investment. A damn investment. What had he even invested in? Love, he claimed, though that was harder and harder to believe. Children, perhaps. Bonnie had been his everything. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't stand to sit next to him and listen to him talk about their marriage in a way that cheapened her suffering, that cheapened her love.

"Well, I don't recall you investing much more than your money. And you're not my husband anymore, now are you? I'm not even sure I could consider you a real husband. There was very little partnership in our marriage. I'm leaving."

All humor instantly fell from his face.

"And there was between you and Charles Hamilton for the week you were married? And have I gotten you situation with Frank mixed up? It always seemed much more like you were using him. In fact, very few marriages consist of what you call partnership."

"It's better than what our marriage used to be like. At least I cared for Frank. Weren't you using me for the entirety of our union? I'm just a poor investment, remember?"

"You mean to tell me that I never cared for you? I was obsessed with you for years."

"You bullied me for years."

"Yes, by attending to your every need and funding all of your stupid enterprises."

"Let's not forget everything else you did. Making fun of me, hurting me emotionally, hurting me physically, and abandoning me on many occasions. Everything I did resulted in one of those outcomes."

"Well, forgive me for my horrendous blunder. After all, what a tragedy that you had to be married to me. I'm glad you got out. I suppose the last fifteen years haven't meant anything to you then. Not surprising. You've always been a heartless shrew, after all."

"Yes, and you've always been spectacular at proving me right about you."

"I don't know what you're prattling on about."

"No? You don't consider calling me a heartless shrew an insult?"

"I've never done anything you haven't done to me first."

Scarlett shot out of her seat and spun around to face him. Her emerald eyes burned in the low light, cutting through his own dark ones.

"I don't recall eavesdropping on your conversations where you were sixteen, nor do I recall harassing you about it for the following thirteen years. I also don't remember cheating on you or divorcing you."

"Don't be so literal and obtuse, Scarlett. And don't think I don't know about Ashley. All of Atlanta knows about you and Ashley Wilkes."

"Yes, and they're so correct that I did exactly as they expected after Melly died. I've never met anyone more foolish than you. You believed the town gossips over your own wife."

"My very untrustworthy wife who has a history with Ashley Wilkes." Contrary to Scarlett's aggressive stance, Rhett reclined on the sofa, kicking up his feet and throwing an arm over the back.

He was the picture of calm control. She was a murderous siren.

"And yet you have always claimed to know me better than I know myself. You missed every chance, Rhett. Every time I thought I could fall in love with you, that maybe Ashley wasn't meant for me, you would go and shatter that illusion. Well, I'm glad for it. I can see now that we were never meant for each other and that it would be better if we never had to cross paths again."

"Is that so? And what do you plan to do with Wade and Ella? Leave them without a mother figure for another ten years?"

"They're my children, they'll come with me. In fact, why don't we leave tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business."

"Of course. So you'd like to take your children with you and leave. Maybe to another state. And what, you'll leave me here all alone with a decanter, is that it? You can't just cut me out of their lives, Scarlett. Wade and Ella are still my family, despite how you childishly want to spite me. And you…"

"What about me, Rhett? You divorced me. I'm not your responsibility. I don't need you to look over my shoulder and torment me. Criticizing my businesses, my opinions, and anyone who threatens your superiority over me."

"I'm the problem, am I? You disappeared off the face of the Earth for a year and a half. What were you doing in that time away? Probably what you did in our marriage: stringing fools along or chasing those smart enough to avoid you. Which imbecile did you ensnare while away, Scarlett?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"It holds no significance, I only wish to warn him about your spending habits and check out whatever sorry old man you managed to snag."

"I'm not nearly as old as you, Rhett. I'm still attractive to the other sex, and he's only a year older than me."

"So there is another man? Is he blonde? What a pitiful dunce. Tell me, how long did it take for you to let him into your bed, you Machiavellian bitch?"

Crack.

The blow left her hand stinging and a nasty red mark on the side of Rhett's face.

"Shut up! Just stop it. I don't want to hear anymore. It doesn't even matter to you."

"Damn you, Scarlett, of course it fucking matters." He rose from his seat, his face contorting in anger in jealousy as his mask slipped. "You've been running around with some knockoff Ashley Wilkes and you don't think I'm mad? I'm livid. You abandoned Wade and Ella. You abandoned me. What for? A boy who wouldn't be able to keep you happy in any way? Don't we matter more than that?"

"You don't know anything about me, Rhett. Just stop it, leave me alone."

"No." He grasped her arms, holding her in place. His fingers dug painfully into her flesh. It would certainly leave a bruise. "I won't just let you go. I have to find some way to get through your thick skull. I could fall to my damn knees and proclaim my love and you'd dismiss me."

"That's because I don't want your 'love'. It's never been genuine. It's always conditional and I can't take that anymore. I'm sick of you breaking my heart. It's not about Ashley or Joseph, it's about how being with you hurts me. It's all too much. The trust issues, the way we tear each other apart. I can't take it anymore. I can't handle the drinking, the fights, the pain."

"So you'll just take my children from me? You'll just up and leave again without a word? I am not okay with that, Scarlett. I'll hunt you down if I have to, but you can't just take what little I have left."

"That's always been your move, I don't see why I can't borrow it."

It dimly occurred to Scarlett that she was doing the same thing he had always done. Influenced by the guilt sitting like lead in her stomach, she reluctantly made a concession towards peace. "I… don't know, Rhett. I can't stay here with you. I need to go back to my hotel. Think it over. Talk to Wade and Ella."

"Will you be back?"

"Tomorrow. Would it be acceptable if I came during the afternoon?"

"Of course."

"Goodnight, Rhett."

"Mrs. Butler."

She was falling. No. It couldn't be. Not again. But she was still falling, tumbling down the stairs.

There was so much blood. Her face was almost as white as the silk sheets covering her.

He was beside her this time, not hiding in his room.

She was tossing.

She cried out.

She turned to him, her eyes half open, her features contorted in unbearable pain. "Ashley. Ashley, please."

Of course she wanted him. She'd never loved him, never even really liked him.

But something was suddenly very wrong. She wasn't calling out anymore. She was silent. No more thrashing, muttering, or even sweating.

He checked her breath.

Nothing.

He had killed her. He had killed the love of his life.

He had to be drunk. It was an illusion. Who was the corpse before him? His Scarlett had never laid still for so long; she was too full of life. She couldn't die, she didn't have it in her.

Damn the bitch, she needed to open her eyes. To prove that she was alive. If she would just open them…

His flew open instead, tears still streaming from them. He was still sprawled across the couch, his neck at an awkward angle and his leg hanging off.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the horizon, painting the sky a myriad of pinks and blues

The children would be up soon and he still smelled like a bar.

Shit.

Rhett Butler was up, dressed, and cleaning in record time. He'd never made an effort for Scarlett before, but the previous night drove his actions.

He needed to keep her happy if she was going to let him continue to see the children. Maybe if he really appealed to her, she'd consider staying with them.

But more than anything, he wanted to see her alive and satisfied.

Of course, the entire idea that cleaning up for her would convince her to move in was ludicrous, but it was worth a try. After all, what harm could it do? The children needed their mother. And he needed her too.

Maybe they could travel together. They could even settle down somewhere. Where did he want to go? The south had always held charms for the both of them… it seemed like a good place to recenter their lives. He was already dreaming of what the future could hold, the bond that they could redevelop, the family they could rebuild.

All he had to do was play his cards right.