Guest 1: Thanks for commenting! I'm looking forward to publishing the newly written chapters as well.

Truckee Gal: Jumping to conclusions is Scarlett's forte. I do think the children need some peace- they were both rather unloved. Tara is a nice reprieve.

Guest 2: I'd say this was deleted about six months ago. New chapters will be out soon.

Aethelfraed: I did have the children stay at Tara originally. I think Scarlett is finally coming to realize that despite providing for her family for so long, no one really needs her and that is devastating.

Guest 3: The weekend is here! Enjoy!

Chapter Six

Scarlett finished the entire decanter of brandy that night. She could barely stomach the thought of reading the divorce paperwork without the help of a little amber courage. She had willed herself to sift through the files after cursing Rhett's name but she could only get past the headline that poked through the top of the sachet. In her mind, she damned him to hell again and again, but somewhere in the depths of her inebriated haze, she recognized that she was less angry with him for sending the paperwork than she was with herself for being foolish enough to believe he still cared for her. How could she have been so daft to believe he wanted to see her? Rhett had never been anything but abundantly clear that he desired an end to their marriage. In the four months apart he never wrote, he never came to find her, and he was steady in the fact that he had not changed his mind about leaving her. Despite all the evidence, however, she still clung to the faint hope that he saw reason. She clung to his return as she clung to Ashley all these years.

He did not need to see reason, she did.

She buried her face in her hands and sighed, a bubbled sob spilling over her lips. Blind hope had made of fool of her. She could see that clearly now. While she could think of nothing but Rhett and the next time she might see him, he was preparing the divorce papers to be rid of her forever. She had no one to blame but herself. She had been the catalyst that set fire to their marriage. It was she that openly pinned for another man despite secretly loving her husband. She had openly mocked her husband and her circumstances for years. It was no wonder that he wanted to cut ties.

Love is no good kept to oneself; it's only a half-love meant only to cause heartache. She never knew what it was like to feel a full, complete love so she spent her whole life living between two half-loves only to immolate her marriage to the one person who had truly cared about her. The thought was harrowing and despite her best efforts, Scarlett could not drown it from her mind even after ingesting another three fingers of brandy.

Staring, unblinking, and more than a little drunk, Scarlett snarled at the envelope before her on the table. Her nostrils flared and her lips trembled as she tried desperately to control her emotions. She had been vacillating between fury and despair all evening and in this moment, she could see only red.

Yes, the faults in her marriage were predominantly hers, but it was just like Rhett to shut her out without having the decency of a final conversation. He always ran when they had marital issues. Scarlett didn't remember the last time she had been privy to a conversation about their marriage that wasn't completely one-sided. Granted, she too had a tendency of alienating him when it came to decisions regarding their union, but she had learned from the best. Scarlett felt slighted in her deep embarrassment. She had been sure he would change his mind. She had been so, completely sure. He had been in love with her and chased her for years and finally, when he had her completely, he was ready to admit defeat. No. The obstinacy in her would not accept it.

Scarlett seized the envelope off of the table and ripped the divorce paperwork from its sachet angrily. If he was divorcing her, she wanted to understand on what grounds. She tore through the pages, her hands trembling with rage before she stumbled upon it.

Desertion.

The word leaped off the white page and for a moment all Scarlett could do was fixate on those nine letters. She fell headfirst into it and felt it devour her whole, suffocating her momentarily until her eyes burned with its intent: willful and continuing desertion. As suddenly as she felt the sting of the meaning, her lips pulled back into a mirthless smile and she began to laugh.

A chuckle at first, Scarlett's merriment grew before tearing through her body until she was doubled over in her seat, cackling. She haphazardly threw the papers back onto the table. She tried to cover her mouth to stifle her cacophonous laughter with little success. Desertion. How rich. She swiped at her eyes to brush away the humorless tears that had begun streaming down her cheeks. She could feel the alcohol now burning through her breast and making her dizzy.

Desertion.

No court of law in South would grant him a divorce on the grounds of willful and continuing desertion when it was he himself that abandoned her. He knew exactly where to find her and he did. He wrote her a letter; there was proof that he knew where she was. There was no neglect on her part. The fact that he had the gall to contend neglect was so unbelievably preposterous that Scarlett had a difficult time calming herself. Just as she thought she might be ready to read the rest of the divorce paperwork a second peal of laughter tore through her.

She flung her body backward, splaying herself across the high-backed chair. Her right arm spread over the side of the armrest while her left covered her shaking face. Scarlett would later identify this exact moment in time as the instant she broke. Up until this moment, she had been teetering precariously on the edge of unraveling. She had buried two children, lost the affection of the two that were still living, her childhood, her family, her closest friend, and now-finally- her great love. While she continued to howl with mirthless laughter, acrid tears carved rivulets in her sallow cheeks. She felt herself slip irrevocably into a dissociative miasma landing somewhere between all-encompassing panic and numbness.

Desertion.

The dichotomy of the two diametrically opposed sensations caused Scarlett to shiver uncontrollably. She swiped her hand across her face, trying to clear her eyes as best she could. Far away it sounded like someone was screaming. It was an ugly sound, Scarlett thought, strangled and hoarse. It was terrifying. It unnerved her to hear that strangled sound mixed with her own dour laughter.

Scarlett struggled to her feet so she could ask Mammy to please ask the screams to stop. It wasn't until she steadied herself against the edge of the table and caught sight of her own reflection did she realize that she was the one that was screaming.

The sight of her disheveled reflection stopped Scarlett. She could barely recognize the woman before her. The woman had her same emerald eyes, her ebony hair, and her petite frame, but that is where the recognition stopped. This woman before her was mad. Her cheeks had an ashen pallor that made her look ghostly and a wildness in her eyes that was jarring. For a long time, Scarlett watched helplessly as she slipped slowly into the beginnings of a psychological break- laughing and screaming simultaneously. Somewhere deep in the shadow parts of her mind Scarlett berated herself. She deserved this. She deserved all of this and she would watch as her world burned around her. She might even help it if she could.

Scarlett and her reflection observed each other like this for a long while. Her thoughts swayed lazily trying to piece together an incoherent plan that was beginning to take shape in her mind. She stumbled around the room, her arms swinging as she sought an inkwell. Desertion. She would show him desertion.

Teetering on her feet with an inkwell in hand Scarlett turned to sit back down at the table. In her splintered state, Scarlett felt both heavy and dangerous. She was shaking uncontrollably; somehow she knew she was in no position to make rational decisions and yet something had snapped within her. She had nothing to care about anymore; nothing to lose. She was impulsive- she always had been. That was one of the things Rhett had once loved the most about her. While Scarlett watched herself break, she made up her mind to lean into impulsivity.

As Scarlett slumped back into the seat, Mammy cautiously entered the room. She had heard the maddened laughter and was frightened. She had stayed up listening for Scarlett all evening. Mammy knew no good news came in that packet. She had received the gentleman who delivered it. A stoic fellow, dressed impeccably. He had said this was to be read by Mrs. Butler and Mrs. Butler only. Mammy swallowed hard, "Are you alright?"

Mammy nearly gasped when Scarlett turned in her seat. Scarlett's face was blanched the color of snow and her eyes were wild and terrifying. "Mammy," Scarlett croaked. There was a defiant yet defeated look to Scarlett that suddenly horrified Mammy. Mammy began to reach out to Scarlett to take her into her arms but Scarlett stopped her. "No, thank you, Mammy I am fine. I just have to write a quick note." Mammy did not fail to notice the monotone tenor of Scarlett's voice.

"Are you alright?" Mammy asked again. Glancing at the empty decanter on the table.

"Yes, Mammy I am fine. Please give me one moment. I'd like this letter out first thing in the morning." She seized the packet of papers lying on the table. She flipped the last page of the document over and wrote:

Rhett,

I was not aware that desertion could be defined so loosely. If you wish to discuss the terms of this document you know where you may find me.

All my love,

Scarlett Butler

Scarlett dropped her quill unceremoniously on the table. She felt an electric panic seer through her as she glanced down at her scribbled writing. It felt as if she was hanging above herself watching something she could not stop. Slowly she folded the note and thrust it into an empty envelope addressing it to the return address. Her head was swimming. She needed to lie down.

She turned in her seat and saw Mammy staring at her, her kind face wrinkled in concern. "Please, Mammy none of that." Scarlett tried to laugh but a strangled sound somewhere between mirth and rage slipped from between her lips. It startled Mammy so much that she didn't notice when Scarlett slipped the envelope into her hand.

"Can you believe this?" Rhett asked, throwing the note down unceremoniously on his lawyer's desk. He had no appointment but was infuriated by his wife's imprudence incensed him. Rhett was under no pretense that Scarlett's mockery of him was a cut above.

Rhett's lawyer, William Ahlborn, took up the folded paper and sighed. "Well, Rhett, this is not what we had hoped, but it was not altogether unexpected. I know we had hoped she would sign the papers outright but we spoke about this situation as a possibility when we drew up the documents. This is not a guaranteed divorce. We are really building the case for your divorce on a technicality."

Rhett paced the length of the office trying to calm himself. "Is there nothing that can be done?"

William shook his head. "We changed your primary residence to South Carolina, but her residency is still Georgia and your name is still on that deed. It would be easier to grant a divorce here; Georgia is much more stringent on divorce. At this point, our best hope is to continue to send her the paperwork and document all of her responses. If she continues to write these notes back, we can bolster our claim that she is actively and willfully refusing to attend to her husband. It's a weak case, Rhett, and I want to reiterate this. Deserting the marriage is usually an extreme case with many years of absence."

Rhett stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face his lawyer. "I want this done and I want this done well." William did not fail to notice the fire in his client's inky black eyes. Rhett's face was blank and his voice was deceptively calm, but the exhaustion and hurt were apparent in every calculated step.

William motioned to the empty chair in front of his desk. Rhett shook his head curtly. He was too restless to sit down.

William sighed for a second time and rubbed his left hand over his face, "I can assure you I will do everything in my power to gather enough of a paper trail to implicate your wife. It will not be easy but this is not my first divorce."

"Nor your last, I'm sure." Rhett quipped. The two caught eyes briefly and the lawyer nodded.

A beat passed between the two before William opened a drawer of his desk and produced a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "I usually reserve this for good news, but it looks like you could benefit from a stiff one."

Rhett was grateful for the man's attempt at kindness and he finally took a seat. William passed Rhett the glass and he downed the amber liquid in one swallow.

William took a swig of his own drink before tipping his chair back, teetering on the back legs of his high-backed chair. He picked up the note for a second time. "You know," William took a second sip of whiskey, "she's quite clever." He reached over the desk to pour Rhett a second glass. "Not everyone would have been so astute to see that we're using a rather broad definition of abandonment."

"She's too clever." Rhett retorted and reached out his hand for the scribbled message. He glanced down at her erratic signature and took a twisted pleasure in knowing how much pain this had undoubtedly caused her. He took the quill from off his lawyer's desk and penned a dark reply before passing it back to William. "Send this."

"I think it is best not to facilitate any additional correspondence without reason-"

Rhett cut him off with a wave of his hand, "Send this."