READ ME FIRST: Hey- remember me? You might have seen this story before under the same name about a year ago with many more chapters. You might have even followed and favorited it or seen it on AO3. I remember you all and I loved you all for it. I had a bit of a time with writer's block this year and at some point decided I was done with this story and pulled it from my account. I mothballed my account thinking I wouldn't come back but was very discouraged that I had not finished one of my favorite stories I'd written. I resigned to writing it in my head and that would be enough for me. I regretted it about a week later and tried to undo the delete, but because my account was so old it was tied to an email I hadn't used in about 15 years and…. well you probably know the rest.

I missed this story and my awesome readers so here I am- hoping that you'll follow me once more. I'm re-uploading all the previous chapters with edits and new content. I hope you'll go on this journey with me again. If not, thanks for following the first time. To all new readers- hi! I hope you enjoy it. I'll be uploading every weekend on a set schedule. If I can't make that schedule, I'll let you know in the chapter.

Welcome back, friends. It's great to see you again.

Chapter One

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

Rhett's dark eyes were hard, unyielding. There was not a trace of tenderness here; there was no love. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his eyebrows ever so slightly. He was angry. He was taunting her. Rhett's icy look sent a chill down Scarlett's spine, but what's more: a sharp stab of pain through her chest.

A moment passed where they stood staring at each other before he turned, clearing the foyer in four steps. He reached for the coat rack next to the front door where he removed his jacket and hat. He folded his long coat over his left arm and held his curled brim, flared crown hat in his right. There was a silent beat of an instant where Rhett took in a long, slow breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. His blood was pounding- coursing through his body in a simmering rage. His anger flowed, pooling in a vein behind his left eye that seemed to throb for the last decade.

Slowly, Rhett turned back to where he had left Scarlett standing, dumbfounded, at the base of the grand staircase. Resolutely, he placed his hat on top of his head. For a moment Scarlett thought there was a flickering light of grief that crept into his gaze, but it went as quickly as it came. Again, the cool, determined look was back. "Do not pretend to flatter me with this play at shock, dear. It should come as no surprise to you how miserable this union has been."

Scarlett watched him, silent and stunned. Despite the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, she did not yet feel the heady emotions that came with a departing lover. She strangely felt nothing. It was as if she were watching someone else's life unfold before her. She was not standing in the foyer of her home watching her husband leave her. Her husband- her beloved husband- who she had expressed her love for moments before was not gathering his belongings. Rhett did not tell her he was leaving her. In Scarlett's dissociation, Rhett was not turning to open the front door and she was not gripping the handrail to the point of pain.

The click of the lock as Rhett turned the door handle sounded like a grand boom in the silent vestibule pulling Scarlett out of her dissociative calm. Suddenly, this was all too real. Scarlett frantically started, moving towards Rhett as terror exploded inside of her. How would she get along without Rhett? He had been the only constant in her life for over a decade. She relied on him more than she knew. She loved him. She LOVED him. She had loved him for years but was too damn insolent to understand, for what did she know of love? No one before Rhett had ever shown her real, genuine love. She hadn't recognized it when it crept its way into her heart all those years ago. She clung to her Ashley Wilkes like a security blanket. Ashley was a representation of her childhood. Ashley represented everything Scarlett had lost throughout the war. Ashley was her age of innocence. Rhett was a beginning- he was always a new beginning.

"You would leave me just moments after Melly died? Moments after I've confessed how much I love you?" The questions, though quiet, bubbled from her throat halfway between a sob and a scream and seemed to boom in the silence of the carpeted room. "What kind of gentleman are you?"

Rhett stiffened as if shot, his shoulders twitching upwards before he whirled, taking a step towards her. His face was contorted in a look unfamiliar to Scarlett. A mix of rage and pain and longing flitted across his dark features before they settled into feigned indifference. "I thought we agreed a long time ago that I was no gentleman. And you, dear," the endearment dripped from his lips like a hiss, "are no lady. This is nothing for you but a game. This is what you've always wanted- Mrs. Wilkes and myself out of your way so that you could have your beloved Ashley. Now you have your wishes, all your desires coming true. Is it not enough to ruin your own life, Scarlett? Must you insist on taking me down with you?"

"No…" Scarlett started, the denial slipping from her like he free-flowing tears. She made to reach for him, but he shook his head once. "No, Rhett, that is not what I want. It has not been what I've wanted for some time."

A rough, sad laugh filled the spaces between them, "You could have fooled me, Scarlett. You are either delusional or a phenomenal actress. If Ashley doesn't work out you should consider a career in the theater."

"Stop it, Rhett!" Scarlett cried, "I…"

"No, you stop it, Scarlett." Rhett cut her off, annoyance lacing the edges of his words. "You are acting like a child who isn't getting her way. There is no nicer way to say that I am tired. I'm tired of you and this farce of a life we've tried to build. I could never make you happy no matter how I might have tried. The fact of the matter is, dear, that you cannot make me happy either."

Rhett turned and walked back to his abandoned suitcase sitting beside the door. He reached down and grabbed it in his large hand. This time he refused to look back. He would not see the play his wife was putting on. Rhett refused to be moved by her tears. "I want to make myself exceptionally clear, Scarlett. I do not love you and I cannot continue to live here with you. Live your life and find happiness if you're able, but it cannot… will not be with me."

He opened the door and stepped out into the foggy night.

Scarlett was frozen in place, the emotional blow temporarily rendering her immobile. How could this be happening? She didn't believe it. She couldn't. Hadn't they shared their bed recently? She remembered that night. He was angry then, too. He had pinned her to his body, seeking her lips in an unrecognized need. He tasted of brandy and stale cigarettes. She recalled him carrying her up the steps and into her room. He had torn her clothes off, ravenous for her body. He was initially rough but when she had finally opened to him, he found solace in her curves. He had caressed her neck, breasts, and waist. His lips had softened around her collarbone. She had sworn he whispered that he loved her.

It dawned on Scarlett that that moment of intense passion was nearly a year ago. He had been terribly inebriated that night. She sadly recalled that he had shown her no type of affection since. A cry escaped her and she flung open the half-closed door. "Rhett! Rhett, come back!"

She took off down the street falling freely into the foggy abyss. She could barely see a foot in front of her, but she kept running. She kept running for all the years she has missed. She kept running in the hopes of salvaging her marriage. She kept running for him.

Tears clouded her vision and her hair whipped wildly in the wind sticking to the tracks of tears on her cheeks. She felt strangely like she was being strangled. It was as if the fog was enveloping her whole, sucking her down into the depths of its belly and suffocating her. She called out to Rhett again.

It struck Scarlett, as she rounded again upon the house on Peachtree Street that she knew he was truly gone. She had assumed she had run into the center of town to meet the ghosts of Atlanta. Instead, she was lost in her own town. She wondered if Rhett had gone to see Belle. The thought overwhelmed her and she cried out, collapsing just inside the foyer and gave way to sobs.