Newreader2022: I think she's already reaching breaking point, to be honest. She's really just teetering on that edge.

Guest 1: Another early post this weekend! Enjoy!

Jaded orbs: Introspective Scarlett is the best, most infrequent Scarlett!

Guest 2: Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Truckee Gal: Agreed! They are so alike in so many ways and they don't even realize it.

Thanks for all the love!

Chapter Four

It had been six weeks since Rhett had last seen Scarlett. He had expected that as the weeks bled slowly into one another he would find himself thinking of her less. To his frustration, he fantasized about her every night. In his dreams she reciprocated his love; sometimes they were on their honeymoon in New Orleans but more often they were in the library at Twelve Oaks the first day he saw her. He would take her impatiently on the settee and she would beg for him. She would whisper his name in ecstasy and when he was on the precipice of release he would wake sweating, painfully aroused, and furious.

It was the same variation of the dream every night yet it felt more real than his reality. He had been numbing his days with drink in order to haze the memory of her, but even in his drunkest state, he swore he could feel her skin beneath his fingers and her mouth on his. It had been so long since they had come together as man and wife- the last time was when he was also drunk. There had been his sheer rage butting up against her refusal to bed him for months. He had decided, after nearly a bottle of brandy, that that night was the best moment to confront her on deliberately withholding herself from him. She mocked him to his face. He wanted to wring her neck and damn it if he hadn't tried.

He had wanted to physically crush her and all thoughts of Ashley from her mind. He didn't care if he hurt her that night. She had toyed with and wounded him for years. It had been humiliating adoring a woman who was constantly making herself a fool by throwing herself at another man. That night in their dark dining room, after he had fed her to the wolves at Ashley's birthday celebration, he had been intent on punishing her. He wanted to fuck her senselessly until she forgot Ashley altogether and cried out only for him. He wanted to remind Scarlett who really owned her.

For as long as Rhett had known Scarlett, Ashley had a hold on her both mentally and emotionally, and he encroached upon his marriage whether the honorable Mr. Wilkes realized it or not. Rhett had hoped that as Scarlett matured she would come to see her feelings for Ashley for what they truly were- a childish infatuation. Instead, she clung to the mild-mannered gentleman harder, gripping the idea of them in her firsts until they turned blue. That night Rhett wanted to show Scarlett that he was her husband and though she thought she loved Ashley, he and he alone could take her body and soul, even if it meant against her will.

The memory of that night made the corners of Rhett's lips curl upwards in a snarl. He took a sip of whiskey and placed it back down on the table, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

She had fought him the final time. He knew she was frightened of him, but he could not stop himself. She beat on his chest and tried to shove him away. Rhett had encircled her wrists and pinned them to the bed above her head to keep her moving. He threw one of his thighs over hers and pressed down. He knew she was powerless and it aroused him even more. Scarlett was always a prideful woman. She made all of her suitors believe that they held the upper hand in their relationship. He knew it would be humbling for her to have to submit to him and he relished in it.

She had wriggled beneath him, trying to break free of his grasp but he sought her lips forcefully. Scarlett resisted but his prying tongue coaxed her tight lips open and she responded tightly. He kept demanding her attention, deepening the kiss until she reciprocated in kind. He tightened his grip on her wrists, tearing his lips from hers. He was so very, very drunk and so violent in his desire. If she had only let him, he would have worshiped her. Instead, he brushed her neck with his lips, tracing kisses up its length until he settled at the juncture of her jaw. He only stopped when he tasted the brackishness of her hot, silent tears. In that moment he felt nothing but shame.

Scarlett had nearly been defiled on several occasions and here he was forcing her to submit to him. He was no better than the Yankee soldier at Tara or the man on the road through Shantytown. His rage ebbed slightly and his stomach dropped. He was still furious that she could never love him the way she loved Ashley. He would have her, but he would not hurt her. He was a cad, surely, but he was never a monster.

He moved his thigh off of her and loosened his grip on her wrists. He pulled away from her and glanced down. Scarlett's emerald eyes had caught his and held them for a long moment. Taking a deep breath, she pursed her lips protruding her jaw maintaining his eye contact. Rhett had the urge to laugh in spite of himself. She was defiant to the end but that was what he so adored about her. He took a jagged breath and slowly lowered his lips to hers. This time she opened for him immediately.

He released one of her wrists and brought his hand down to cup her face gently. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and her breathing hitched slightly. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth hungrily with his own. She responded in kind, increasing the rapidity of the kiss. He straddled her, releasing her completely. His hands sought the tie of her robe and hungrily threw it open to expose her sheer nightdress. He remembered how taught her nipples were and how they strained at the fabric of her nightgown. He was haunted by how she arched against him as he rolled one of them between his fingers.

"Look at me," he had hissed, moving from one nipple to the other. He wanted her to watch him. He wanted her to know that her husband was pleasuring her. She turned her face towards him and there was a devilish glint in her eye. She gasped in response to his hands and the corner of her lip curled in an almost imperceptible smirk.

Rhett knew he was being had. He had wanted to control her to show her that real men weren't meek and mild intellectuals and yet she had turned the tables on him. She knew he was incensed and aroused and wanted her and she had found his weakness. She knew that if she acquiesced he would relinquish her and yet she was luring him on even after he released her. He ended up taking her hard and heatedly that night relishing in the way she moaned and fantasizing that she was thinking of him and not Ashley.

Rhett finished the last of his drink and shook his head in an effort to be rid of the sour memory. He found himself often in that memory. Their last acrimonious union was so full of animosity; both of them took their frustrations of unrequited love out on each other. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. He waved a woman over to him and said, "Do a gentleman a favor, dear, and pour me another."

She nodded returning shortly with a decanter of whiskey. "Three fingers, dear. It's been a rather long day." One of his companions patted him on the back and guffawed extending his own empty glass out to the barmaid in anticipation.

During the last six weeks, Rhett had made himself a regular at an upscale brothel in downtown Charleston. He would often play cards with other patrons and drink more than publicly civil, but Rhett could hold his liquor. He was no stranger to glass or four of whiskey. Occasionally he would visit Clementine, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty that was discreet, satisfied his needs, and reminded him nothing of his wife.

Tonight Rhett sat with four men smoking cigars and playing card games. They had been gambling for a few hours and were all various shades of inebriated. Rhett had been up five hundred dollars for the past hour and some of his gambling partners were offering to buy him more drinks to loosen him up. Rhett laughed, "Come now, gentleman. We've been playing together for weeks now. You should all know by now that the drunker I get the faster your money makes its way into my winnings. We can keep trying though- maybe one of you might have some luck."

The men laughed and settled back into their game. The man sitting to Rhett's left, Herman, picked up his glass and took a long swig, "God these women drive me crazy." His eyes tracked a busty redhead with breasts billowing over her too-tight bodice. "It's a shame my wife won't use her mouth like that beauty."

"I'm sure if you bring your lovely Nancy to this fine establishment, Lulu might find herself charitable enough to explain the mechanics," Rhett quipped as Herman guffawed.

"Instead she just uses it to hassle you, eh?" The Irishman across from Rhett at the table laughed, his thick Irish brogue even thicker with drink. "For the best, no? Wouldn't fit to be married to one of these broads, but damn it'd be nice to have a good romp once and a while that I didn't have to charm out of her."

"Charm?" Rhett smirked and tilted his head slightly. He took a puff of the cigar hanging precariously out of his mouth. "Are you sure we're talking about the same man, Patrick? You've got about the charm of a fresh coat of paint."

"Ah you old bastard," Patrick snorted, "You've a wife, eh? You should be knowing."

Rhett nodded taking the first sip of his freshly poured drink, "Yes, I am married and do, regrettably, know your plight."

"Where's she now- Charleston? She knows you're down here with the dirty likes of us?" Herman asked, laying a card down on the table.

Rhett smirked at the card and threw his hand on the card table. The rest of the men groaned as Rhett collected his winnings and folded the bills into his pocket. "I told you an extra drink wouldn't help you lot," He drawled, laughing. "No, she's in Georgia. We're not exactly engaged in what anyone might call a loving marriage."

The men nodded. "A real bitch, ain't it?" Another one of the men responded sympathetically. "If I could do it all over again I'd choose a different broad myself."

"How long has it been this way?" Herman leaned over, asking Rhett in confidence as he shuffled another hand. "My cousin knows a great lawyer in Augusta if you've got any legal recourse. May be a long shot and it's damn near impossible, but if you're as unhappy as you've seemed it may be worth looking into."

Rhett ran his hand through his black hair for a second time, tilting himself back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "We've been separated about six weeks, but the marriage hasn't been suitable in a number of years."

Herman nodded, "I'll call tomorrow morning with his contact. Now, damn it, if I don't win this round my wife will divorce me for my own stupidity."

Hours later, Rhett stumbled home to his mother's where he had been staying for the last few weeks. She had made it known that she was less than enthusiastic about his recent behavior, but she had not chastised him as much as he was rebuking himself. He knew his frequent visits to the brothel were toxic, but drink dulled the pain of thinking of his failed marriage and dead children. If he were honest with himself, he had been thinking of divorcing Scarlett since before Melanie's funeral. Now he was positive it was the right decision. Finally, he could be free of her and those hauntingly beautiful emerald eyes. Perhaps if he could attain a divorce his dreams would finally stop.

He sat slumped in the lounge in his mother's home nodding off until the sun danced red across the pale morning. He sat crumpled there for hours too drunk and too unwilling to move. It wasn't until he heard his mother enter the sitting room and situate herself across from him that he finally looked up.

Eleanor Butler sighed and reached forward to take one of her son's hands. It had been like this since he had shown up at her door unannounced. Nearly every night he would go out and return inebriated and in pitiable humor. Tonight was no different. He reeked of booze, smoke, and sex and his eyes were bloodshot and drooping. He could barely concentrate on her face even when she turned his face to meet her own. "Rhett, my darling, have you slept?"

She knew the answer before he slurred, "No, mother."

Eleanor reached towards her son, cupping his chin in her hands. He had not shaved in three days. "What are you doing to yourself, Rhett? This isn't like you to be this melancholic."

He laughed harshly and turned his face out of her hand. He slumped forward so that his elbows were resting on his thighs, buried his head in his hands, and groaned. "My marriage is over, mother. Surely you know this by now." He rubbed his hands down the length of his face before they paused beneath his chin, his hands clasped as if in prayer, his chin resting unsteadily between his pointer and middle fingers.

"Yes, I suspected as such, but I do not understand why the two of you cannot attempt to put the effort into the union."

"She loves another man." His voice cracked and he opened his eyes to face his mother. "Our marriage was a mistake and self-destructed long before I left. There is no way to salvage it."

"She loves another man?" Eleanor asked, surprised. "How did this come about?"

"I've always known- this affection is not new. She's always been forthcoming about her adoration for the indomitable Mr. Wilkes."

Eleanor shook her head, taken aback. "So you knew before you married her that her heart belonged elsewhere."

Rhett swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes, "Yes she was clear that she was marrying me for money and because she had, in her words, 'some affection for me.'"

"And you married her despite the fact that she declared her devotion to a man other than yourself?"

"Yes."

"I took you for many things, my son, but I never took you as a fool," Eleanor said harshly, folding her hands in her lap. He had been killing himself with drink for nearly two months. Enough was enough- he needed to hear some sense. "You married Scarlett despite the fact that she was honest and told you that she loved another man and now, years later, you are upset that she's in love with that same man? Did she not tell you she cared for you even then?"

Rhett scoffed, "I thought that I might change her mind. We had known each other for many years before we married and we always had a very good relationship. I hoped that she might come to love me."

"So you knew her for many years, always knew that she was in love with this other man, and are cross that she remained honest with you about it all these years later?"

"No, mother." His lips her set in a tight line and he began clenching and flexing one of his fists. "I'm angry at myself for making her one of my mistakes in the first place and allowing myself to be manipulated by her charms. The day I decided to leave her she confessed how much she had loved me for years. A ruse to get me to stay, I'm sure."

Eleanor blinked and took a breath. She opened her mouth as if to say something but thought better of it. She closed her lips, pursing them slightly. A moment passed before she said, "You know how much I love you," She nodded at him cajolingly trying to speak as kindly to him as she could muster despite her annoyance. "It sounds as if Scarlett is not the one that was doing the manipulating in this scenario. She was truthful with you from the beginning that she loved another man and you attempted to persuade her otherwise. Maybe she was attempting to get you to stay when she told you she loved you, but maybe she wasn't. Know that you are no saint."

She looked him up and down before continuing; "I watched the two of you during Bonnie's funeral. She tried desperately to hold onto you and you shrugged her off. You were positively cruel."

"She blamed me for my daughter's death!" Rhett's voice rose, his eyes wild with anger. "Some things, once said, can never be unheard."

"She was grieving." Eleanor retorted, exasperated. "You were both grieving but neither of you were grieving together. You needed each other but were both too prideful to admit it."

"Perhaps you're right, but it doesn't change the fact that nasty things were said. Please, do not goad me in such a way." He looked at his mother, the weight of the world weighing heavy in his stare, "You may mean well, but you don't know Scarlett and you don't understand the dynamic of our marriage. She's selfish, toxic, cruel, and, admittedly, my favorite mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. We are not compatible as husband and wife. I wanted her because I could not have her. Once I had her we did nothing but set fire to our own lives. I cannot pretend that I have anything left in me to keep trying with a woman like her. I am so tired. Our marriage has long been over and I will discuss this with you no further."

Rhett stood and stumbled slowly from the room without another word. Eleanor sighed; he was not ready to see his own culpability. She knew Scarlett was a difficult woman, but she knew that her son was a trying man himself. The two of them were too similarly headstrong to admit to their own mistakes and didn't know a thing about communication. Eleanor hoped that someday he would see his oversight, but when a gentleman called later that afternoon with the name of a lawyer in Georgia she knew that he was intent on his decision.