It was three months before Rhett returned again, on the eve of what would have been Bonnie's sixth birthday. Scarlett had been restless and unhappy all day, thinking of Bonnie. She had just sat down at the piano to calm herself with some music after dinner when Rhett arrived, unannounced.
'Oh, hello,' he said in that offhand way that infuriated her. He settled himself in an armchair while she observed him over the piano. He was immaculately groomed as usual, with a studied nonchalence that irritated Scarlett no end. He pulled a cigar from his cigar case, smelt it appreciatively then lit it, leaning back in his chair as he did. How could he look so at ease, Scarlett thought, as if he had not a care in the world. Did he really not care about anything?
'Please, don't let me interrupt you,' he said. But she just sat at the piano, not moving. She had wanted to play for herself, not for him. How could she relax and block out her thoughts with him there?
'Come, Scarlett,' he coaxed, 'play for me.'
'I don't feel like playing now', she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her but did not speak. They sat in silence for a while then, with him puffing on his cigar, and Scarlett quietly sitting at the piano, irritated by his composure, and wondering how she would get through the next day.
Eventually Scarlett broke the silence. 'Do you realise it would have been Bonnie's sixth birthday tomorrow?' she asked quietly.
Rhett snuffed out his cigar violently and swore vehemently, all traces of imperturbability gone in a flash. 'What kind of a man do you take me for? Of course I know, how could I ever forget my daughter's birthday? Do you think I've thought of anything else all day, all week?' he retorted angrily. 'I think of her every day.'
Scarlett bit her lower lip. She had not meant to upset him. Upset as she already was herself, it was almost too much for her. She turned her head away so he could not see her face.
Rhett observed her. 'Forgive me Scarlett, I did not mean to snap,' he said gently. 'I just.. I can't talk about her'.
'I miss her too Rhett,' she whispered.
'Well at least you're not the one that killed her,' he growled.
Scarlett's head spun around and her eyes flashed at him. 'Rhett,' she exclaimed, 'You did not kill her. I was crazy with grief and I wanted to hurt you when I said that. I know you would never have done anything to harm her. It was an accident Rhett, just a terrible accident. It was nobody's fault.'
Rhett sighed. 'No, it was my fault,' he responded bitterly. 'I shouldn't have let her jump but I could never say no to her. I wanted her to have everything she wanted.'
'She was so beautiful wasn't she?' Scarlett whispered.
'Yes', said Rhett dully, grinding the end of his used cigar butt into the ashtray. 'And brave, charming, vivacious, affectionate, amusing.' He released the cigar butt and looked directly at Scarlett. 'I was so proud of her,' he said quietly, and Scarlett saw the pain in his eyes.
When he asked her again to play for him, she understood that he needed the music as much as she did. And so she played. After a while she almost forgot he was there, she became so caught up in the music. On and on she played, wanting the music to fill her, to calm her, to stop her from thinking useless painful thoughts.
When finally she stopped, it was late. Rhett rose to his feet. 'Thank you my dear,' he said gravely. Then he bowed and left the room.
The following morning when Scarlett came down for breakfast, Rhett was out. The servants said that he had left early, on foot. She guessed that he had gone to the cemetery to visit Bonnie's grave, just as she was planning to. When she arrived, she saw that she had been right. Rhett was there, standing motionless in front of Bonnie's little grave, his coat tails flapping in the breeze. She laid some flowers by Bonnie's headstone, then stood back beside him to gaze upon the grave, lost in sad thoughts of Bonnie. After some time she turned with tear filled eyes to look at Rhett. She saw her own pain and grief mirrored in his eyes.
They stood there silently for a few seconds, observing each other.
Then Rhett stepped towards her and silently drew her to him. He stroked her hair gently. Hot tears flowed freely down Scarlett's cheeks. No one could comfort her like Rhett. How good it felt to be in his arms. They stood like that before Bonnie's grave for a long time, drawing comfort and strength from each other in their shared sorrow.
Then they walked home together, but they didn't speak. Scarlett, for once, could think of nothing to say.
Rhett left that afternoon, still in a solemn, quiet mood. He kissed the back of her hand as he bade her farewell.