Disclaimer: I do not own Scarlett, Rhett, or any of the other characters mentioned hereafter as created by the wonderful Margaret Mitchell, no matter how much I may wish this wasn't so. The first line of this fanfiction also belongs to the incredible Ms. Mitchell, although the plot and new characters of my own creation (if any) do belong to me.


"I'll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day."

Rhett paused, his hand resting on the doorknob to his room as he heard Scarlett's voice in the dining room below. After perhaps a moment of hesitation, he retraced his steps almost silently, dark eyes narrowed slightly. He paused a foot or so shy of the top of the stairs where he knew she would see him just in time to hear her speak aloud to herself. Yet what he heard only made his lips tighten abruptly, shaking his head slightly before turning away again. Stubborn. There was no other word to describe this childish wretch, though he knew the same could possibly be said of himself.

But suddenly there came a sound that struck Rhett so sharply and so abruptly he froze, eyes widening as he looked back over his shoulder slowly.

She was crying.

The sound was so simple, and it was far from the first time he had ever heard his wife shed a tear. But it was the first time it had ever sounded quite like this, so incredibly genuine that Rhett nearly forgot himself, taking a long stride towards the stairs before forcing himself to stop. He couldn't go to her now, no matter how much pain he heard in every small sound she made.

And yet for several moments he found himself shaking slightly, nearly fearful of the control this woman still had upon him despite the cool words he had spoken to her in the dining room mere minutes before.

Because of course it had all been a lie. He had loved Scarlett O'Hara since that fateful day twelve years ago when he had first laid eyes upon the Southern Belle at Twelve Oaks. He had nearly been driven mad on countless occasions because of her, seeking refuge in whatever bottle of alcohol had been most convenient.

But he still loved her. Which was why he forcing himself to leave - he couldn't stand being here any longer, in this house that harbored so many terrible memories: the death of his beloved Bonnie; the countless fights between himself and Scarlett; the accident that he still blamed himself for……and her miscarriage, of course.

Yes, it would be best for him to go. Or at least that's what Rhett repeated to himself over and over again as he backed away from the stairs, turning and moving toward his room again. He silently willed himself to ignore the pitiful sobs that called to him, opening the door and slipping inside before closing it again. Without a word, he slumped against the door, resting his head against the cool wood and closing his eyes as his lips parted slightly, his voice just above a whisper: "I'm sorry, Scarlett."

Despite Scarlett's strong and confident words of mere moments before, the sense of utter loss had still overwhelmed her, a strange and suffocating feeling surging within her chest easily before the tears finally came. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head upon them, welcoming and yet at the same time cursing every drop that escaped her eyes. It felt wonderful to finally let go, to remove her mask of bravery, even if it was for only a short time now.

For she still had to arrange Melanie's funeral for Ashley. She had to be strong for both him and little Beau, as well as for Aunt Pitty and so many others. The mere thought of what the next day would bring caused her to slump in her chair abruptly, the steady flow of her tears slowly waning. The only small comfort was that she could leave after Melly's funeral. She would go back to Tara. To the red earth she loved so intensely, so differently from the countless miles of the same soil that spread throughout Georgia.

And so, with a soft sigh, she rose wearily. Her eyes went to the full decanter Rhett had left on the table, pain filling her gaze. It was her fault he had been driven to this. She had been selfish following Bonnie's death, not bothering to pause and consider just how much he must have been hurting, most likely even more than she.

It seemed as though Rhett was right, and she acknowledged it for the first time; she really was a child - careless and naïve.

As well as blind to something nothing short of wonderful that had been right in front of her for years. Twelve years, to be more precise. How in the world could she have overlooked such an incredible thing, how could she have ignored the love that lurked just beneath the surface of nearly every move Rhett made? Moments after pondering this question, Scarlett knew the answer, had known it all along, really.

Ashley Wilkes.

Of course it was him. Her obsession that she mistakenly thought was love, the small and insignificant feeling that was really only a habitual one. She had been blind to anything else, and it seemed as though Rhett's jealousy grew as each day passed, though she knew he would never admit it.

But what now that she had at last realized how she really only loved Ashley as a brother, as a friend? What happened now that she realized too late that the one and only man whose arms she wanted to hold her close were Rhett's? What was left for Scarlett now?

Nothing.

That was what her heart whispered, aching silently within her chest. Yet at the same time her mind argued otherwise, reiterating the simple and undeniable fact that she was Scarlett O'Hara, former belle of Clayton County who always got her way, always won the man she wished. And Rhett Butler was just like any other man, wasn't he?

No, her mind answered immediately, no, he isn't like any other man. And what sets him apart from all of the countless others in the world is why I love him more than anything, more than life itself.

And because of this, it wasn't going to be easy to obtain the happy ending she knew they both deserved. She would have to change, would have to become someone Rhett could respect, someone she knew he could find the ability to love again. It all seemed so simple, and with childish determination she raised her head from the table, a faint yet triumphant smile on her lips. She would make Rhett fall in love with her again, and she would do it at whatever cost needed to be paid. It would all fall into place in the end, wouldn't it? Of course it would.

But there was something else more pressing for the time being. She would win Rhett's love once more, but first…there was Melanie's funeral.


Any feedback - positive or negative - is whole-heartedly welcomed. There is definitely more to come, although I'm not sure exactly when that might be. Sorry to take so long with updating this chapter, but thanks for reading!