Dear readers! Thank you all for the kind words, as always they are very important to me!

So, as much as I love the beginning and the middle of the chapter (especially the middle!), I don't love the end, but I'm letting it happen.

Inspired by a recent chat room conversation. You can believe it, you can disprove it. There is no proofs in the book.

But I needed to get over it, and so did Scarlett. Through Scarlett's feelings.

Enjoy reading!

I own nothing in regard to GWTW.

Chapter 14.

There was silence in the room, and Rhett could barely breathe, as he finally confessed what he'd kept in his heart all these years. It wasn't the way he'd imagined it, but the words had been said.

"Why isn't she saying anything?" his brain was frantically thinking.

But the silence was broken, not by his wife, who diligently avoided his gaze, but by his little daughter.

"We love you very much, too, Daddy," Ella said with a smile, reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

Another time he would have soared to the heavens and laughed at fate, because the baby girl from another man, whom he had so desperately wanted to think of as his own ever since he had seen her mother's rounded belly, really did think of and love him as her own father. The only father.

But right now he was very concerned about her mother, so he only smiled, stroked Ella's hair affectionately and said, "Baby, it's time to go to sleep. Don't worry, there won't be any more bad dreams. You're not alone Ella, we're all with you."

Ella smiled and lay back on her mother's pillow and Scarlett began to stroke her hair affectionately, looking thoughtfully in front of her. Rhett, too, was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out what and how he was going to tell her now.

But when he turned to look at them a few minutes later, he saw that mother and daughter were both asleep.

Sighing softly and smiling affectionately, he took Ella in his arms and carried her to the nursery. Then he returned, switched off the light in their bedroom, lay down in bed, gently cuddled her in his arms and closed his eyes.

But, in the morning, he woke up in an empty bed, though it was about seven o'clock. It was obvious that she had decided to avoid him.

Scarlett was sitting on the veranda and drinking coffee. She got up around six and slipped out of bed, afraid to wake him. She remembered his serious look yesterday and his words. But, she didn't believe them.

"He was just comforting Ella, she's a very impressionable and vulnerable girl. Of course he said he loved me, after all I'm her mother. But he's here with me, with us... He's very gentle, kind, affectionate, like he was at the beginning of our marriage. But he didn't love me then, he just wanted me in his bed. And now. We haven't even slept together, maybe I'm inexperienced for him... He said he was bored with me. Oh! I don't understand him," Scarlett took a sip of coffee in frustration and set the cup on the table

next to her.

"He cares about children, he wanted the baby. He loves them. Maybe the boundaries of his 'deal' with me have expanded and he doesn't want me in his bed anymore, but he wants children, heirs?"

At that thought, she shuddered. She just wanted a family, their family. It was scary to admit it to herself, but they could have a wonderful family if they loved each other... "If only he really loved me..." she thought bitterly.

But, her train of thoughts interrupted, the door creaked open and Rhett appeared, in that morning silence.

She shuddered as he walked over to her, smiled, leaned over to kiss her cheek, and then, sitting down in a nearby chair, said, "Good morning, Scarlett."

"Good morning," she replied and nervously picked up her coffee cup.

"You're up so early, Scarlett," he muttered softly and looked at her with a sly smile.

"I'm... Sometimes I get up, I mean I used to get up, earlier than everyone else, to have my coffee in silence... Yes..." she said uncertainly, clutching the cup in her hands.

"Too bad I'm late, I would have drank it with you, though..." he suddenly reached for her, gently touched his hand to her cheek and touched her lips with his lips affectionately. He smelled a subtle coffee aroma as he kissed her.

"Promise, you'll call me to sit with you like this in the morning, Scarlett," he whispered to her, pulling away from her lips.

Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, but she only nodded. "What kind of games is this grown man playing with me?" she questioned herself again and decided to move on to the conversation.

"By the way, Rhett," she said in a deliberately cheerful voice, "thank you for being so kind and gentle with Ella last night, for dealing with her bad dreams. Thank you..."

"You don't need to thank me, Scarlett," he suddenly interrupted her and added seriously, "I was comforting my daughter, is that what you thank me for?"

Scarlett just stared at him, realizing that she didn't want to offend him and remind him that Ella had a different surname.

But Rhett continued with serious eyes, "Scarlett, I want to adopt Ella and give her my last name. I'd do it for Wade too, but he's a heir of the Hamilton family, I think it's important to his relatives and will be important to him in the future to save his surname. But with Ella, I want to do it right. Is that okay with you?" asked he, looking in her eyes.

Scarlett thought for a moment, recalling her thoughts and worries about her middle daughter, but then she nodded gratefully, "If that's the way you want it, Rhett, I'd be happy to, and so would Ella, of course... Thank you..."

He smiled contentedly and thought to himself about last night's conversation. "Yes, she didn't realize anything, thought I was just comforting my daughter. But I'm here, with her, with the children, why can't she see that I'm not just a friend? That I want to be her husband again. I want her to want to be with me, to share our bed... I just love her, it's so simple, why can't she believe it, can't see it..."

Yes, they had difficult times and relationships in the past, but here and now, miles away from home, they were trying to build something beautiful without cheating each other, without hurting each other. They weren't haunted by the ghosts of the past.

"We'll get through this," he thought to himself and smiled, "there will be another moment when I confess to her directly."

And a couple more weeks went by, where Rhett and Scarlett enjoyed life on their own, in a small settlement, where no one knew them. They enjoyed the companionship and time with their children, the walks and evenings with James, the trips to Savannah, the dinners at the O'Hara relatives' house. They enjoyed each other's company, joking and talking as they had at the beginning of their marriage. Rhett was gentle, often helping her change her clothes or brushing her hair. He kissed her gently or passionately. But that was his limit.

He decided that he would confess to her first... They were more than friends, but not yet lovers. They lacked half a step towards each other, lacked determination or courage.

One morning, Scarlett woke up earlier than usual and was about to slip out of bed when Rhett sleepily muttered, "Where are you going, Honey?"

She gave him a sly smile and said just one sentence, "To get coffee. Do you want to come with me?"

He smiled and sat sleepily on the bed, "Now, Scarlett, give me a minute to wake up."

"I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen, Rhett," she muttered with a smile and left the room.

While she was lighting the cast iron cooker, he had already gone downstairs, dressed only in a shirt and homemade trousers.

Rhett walked quietly into the kitchen and closed the door behind him to keep the noise down.

Scarlett turned around and smiled at him, with a coffee grinder in her hands.

He walked over to her, kissed her cheek affectionately and whispered, "Here I am, Darling."

He gently placed his hands on top of hers and said, "Let me help you, Scarlett."

She awkwardly released her hands and said, "Then grind the coffee, Rhett, and I'll get the coffee pot and water ready."

He was standing and grinding the coffee while he watched her every move. Here she leaned over to a drawer to get the dishes and the dressing gown clung so seductively around her hips, here she pulled cups from the cupboard, the sleeves rolled up and he saw her soft skin, her snow-white arms. He noticed every detail with his eyes as his hands twirled the coffee grinder. Here she pushed strands of hair back, here she ran her left hand along her neck, here she bit her lower lip, thinking about something.

"Rhett," she called to him, he woke up, and she took the coffee grinder from his hands, whispering, "Thank you."

Rhett suddenly realized that he wasn't thinking about coffee at all in this morning silence. He doesn't want coffee at all. He wants her. He wants his wife.

He saw her standing, watching the coffee pot, waiting for the water to boil.

Rhett approached her silently and hugged her tightly around the waist from behind, whispering in a husky voice in her ear, "Scarlett..."

She flinched and the spoon fell out of her hands. He pressed his hot lips to her neck and whispered, "My sweetheart..."

She had barely whispered, "Rhett... Coffee..." as he'd already turned her to him and kissed her passionately on the lips. Closing his eyes, he felt her rapid breathing, her taste that he missed madly, her scent... He forgot instantly where they were.

Holding her tightly by the hips, he suddenly lifted her up and set her down on the wooden table in this small kitchen.

Unfastening her dressing gown, he untied the ties of her nightgown in one motion and began kissing her neck, moving lower and lower to her breast. He felt her hands running through his hair, her rapid heartbeat, then a sigh and her quiet moan...Then he heard a hot whisper, "Rhett..." and he pulled her even tighter against him...The nightgown fell off her breast, she heard his hoarse moan, felt the touch of hot lips...The softness of her skin was driving him crazy, he pressed his lips against...

The sound of escaping coffee with a sharp hiss interrupted them and they both opened their eyes. Somewhere behind the door small footsteps were heard and a thin voice, "Mummy... Daddy..."

"Bonnie..." muttered Rhett, and meeting his wife's startled gaze, he quickly lowered her to the floor, and in one motion she pulled her dressing gown up and just in time as the door opened and their little sleepy daughter appeared, wearing a blue nightgown with the doll in her little hands.

They tried to even out their breathing, and Rhett noticed her hands shaking.

Bonnie looked at them with sleepy eyes and didn't understand why Daddy still hadn't taken her in his arms like he usually did.

"Rhett," Scarlett whispered and he realized he had to do something, but all he could think about was her in his arms and the fact that a few more minutes and he would have taken her here, in this small kitchen, on this wooden table, and she didn't seem to mind...

Swallowing once more, Rhett gave Bonnie a strained smile and walked quickly over to her.

"Bonnie, baby, why aren't you asleep, it's still very early," he asked his daughter and took her in his arms.

"I'm thirsty," the little girl said and yawned. It was about half past seven in the morning and Rhett realized that Bonnie could still be put down, for an hour or so. And at this hour... His thoughts began to wander to fantasies about his wife and he didn't immediately notice Scarlett calling softly to him again, handing his daughter a glass of water and taking the doll from her hands.

"Rhett," she said quietly and he woke up, "take Bonnie to the nursery, it's still early."

But, Bonnie, having had a drink of water, suddenly furrowed her brows and said, "No, I don't want to go to the nursery now, I want to lie down with Mummy!"

Rhett looked at his daughter incomprehensibly and only said, "Bonnie, honey, your cot is in the nursery and Ella, and Wade..."

"No, I want to lie down with Mummy."

"Okay, Bonnie, let's go," Scarlett decided to end the argument and whispered to Rhett, with a soft smile, "Looks like coffee's off."

As Scarlett tucked her daughter into her side of the bed and gently stroked her curls, Rhett stared out the window, trying to steer his thoughts in the right direction instead of where they were running off to.

Soon he heard a light sniffle and saw that Bonnie had fallen asleep and Scarlett was lying pensively beside her, moving slightly to his side of the bed.

Rhett quietly walked to the bed, lay down behind and gently put his arms around her waist.

"Honey," he whispered in her ear and Scarlett pressed her back against him and felt his arousal.

"Rhett," she whispered back softly and added, "Bonnie..."

He understood everything, their little wayward daughter had messed up all his plans, he sighed but whispered, "One kiss, Scarlett, come to me..."

"Not here..." was her answering whisper.

Then he rose, took her hand, and they walked quietly out into the next room where the bathroom was.

He stood in front of her, shirt half unbuttoned, light house trousers. Scarlett could see his chest, heaving with breath and she wanted to touch him, to feel him.

Rhett didn't move, just stared at her.

She reached her hand to his face and, with a gentle, careful movement, pulled back a strand of his hair that was always falling over his forehead.

It was a simple touch, but the way she did it made his heart beat faster.

Rhett continued to stare intently into her eyes and then, she ran her hand over his cheek and suddenly stood on her tiptoes and reached up to kiss him. First her lips touched his cheek, near the familiar mole, then she moved closer to his lips and kissed them lightly.

Rhett seemed to freeze and forget how to breathe. All his senses were so heightened, all knotted up in his chest, and he was afraid to take a full breath, afraid to ruin this magical moment. The moment of their tenderness. The moment her feelings for him manifested.

Scarlett, meanwhile, reached down, kissed his neck and felt his pulse beneath her lips.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around her and unable to hold back any longer, he leaned towards her and kissed her passionately on the lips. She responded to his kiss and snuggled closer to him. Rhett wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, broke the kiss and whispered to her in a hot whisper.

"Scarlett, what are you doing to me? I want you here, right now, do you hear me? I want you..."

"We can't... Bonnie..." he heard her whisper confusedly.

He knew it and understood it, so he just pulled her against his chest.

"Tonight... Tonight... I'll tell her everything, I'll love her. We'll love each other," he thought, pulling her closer to him.

That afternoon, before dinner, Rhett and the children went for a walk to look for seashells.

Scarlett paced the room, humming happily, dinner was almost ready and she was ready to let the cook go and set the table herself.

"Who knew it would give me such pleasure just to set the table," she reflected with a smile.

It wasn't like Atlanta, where every meal together was a torture. A test of strength. A verbal duel from which she rarely emerged victorious.

No. Here, Rhett wasn't at the other end of the table, but to her right, next to Ella, Bonnie to her left, next to Wade. They talked over the meal, joking, and though she tried to urge the children to mind their manners and frowned at her husband, he only ran his hand affectionately down her cheek and said, "Scarlett, it's just us. Us and our children, don't be so strict." And she would lower her hands with a smile.

The cook came out of the kitchen, taking off her apron.

"Mrs Butler, everything's ready! Sure you don't want me to set the table?" she asked with a polite smile.

"No, thank you, I can manage while my husband and children are out."

The cook nodded and was about to leave when the door opened and the coachman appeared.

"Mrs Butler," the dark-skinned man addressed her politely, "I've just come from the post office, there's a large envelope from Atlanta for you and your husband," he said, handing her a weighty envelope.

Scarlett took it and said, "Yes, apparently it's mail from home, thank you."

"Any more errands for today?"

Scarlett thought they would definitely spend the evening at home with the children and with a smile she let the coachman go too. He and the cook walked out together, talking quietly about something.

Scarlett looked for a moment at the mirror in the hallway, her light cotton dress with the floral pattern was lovely and suited her well. Like the rest of her dresses, though, Rhett had good taste.

Fixing her hair with one hand, she walked with the envelope to the fireplace, took the letter opener, and carefully opened the envelope.

The bundle of letters was weighty, she went through them. A letter for her from the shop, a letter from Melanie, a letter for Rhett from the bank, a letter from Will, a letter from Henry Hamilton to both of them, a letter from some colonel to Rhett, again from the bank. Yes, correspondence had accumulated during their absence.

Last she saw the envelope, and reading the name of the addressee on it she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"To Mr Butler from Miss Watling."

Scarlett had put all the letters on the mantelpiece and held this one in her hands. She would burn it right here. That woman was writing to her husband. HER husband. Here. They'd travelled so far away, but even here these ghosts wouldn't leave them alone.

"They share a business," she tried to reassure herself, "it's work-related."

Her hand reached for the letter opener that lay on the mantelpiece.

"Don't read other people's letters," a phrase flashed through her mind as she carefully opened the envelope. She often broke the rules.

The envelope was opened and with trembling hands she unfolded the sheet.

"Dear Rhett! I am writing to you as it has been a couple of months since you and I have been in touch. The last time was the night your wife had her accident. How is she, by the way?

You went to Savannah to pick up your family, but you didn't even say goodbye, Rhett. Is that what good friends do, Dear?

Well, I'm not mad at you. Tell me, when are you coming back? Business is good, revenue's up every month. We got a couple of new girls from New Orleans. One is brunette with green eyes, like you prefer.

Speaking of New Orleans. Honey, when are you planning on going to visit the boy? It's been over six months since you last saw him. He's twelve now and I'd really like him to feel your influence and support. Your authority. Perhaps I could come with you to a future meeting, because it's so hard for me as a mother not to see him grow up. Shall we think about it, Rhett? I can be pleasant company, you know that, Darling. I look forward to your letter. Kisses, Belle."

Scarlett fumbled with trembling hands for the back of the chair that stood by the fireplace and barely reached it, collapsing. Her legs shook, her hands trembled. She was shaking all over, her breathing hitched, she felt nauseous.

"Breathe," her inner voice uttered and she tried to take a breath, but something was choking her.

"Breathe," the voice again.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a breath, short and choppy. Tears were choking her.

Another inhale. An exhale. Inhale. Exhale. "Good job, Scarlett, breathe."

She just didn't know what was most hurtful about that letter. That he'd sat and drank with this woman the night she'd lost their baby. That he had his "preferences" in the brothel. That this woman was intimate with him. That they seemed to have a child together.

At the last thought, tears began to sting her eyes, but she held them back with an effort of will.

"Scarlett, stop. Not now. Later, Honey. Now the children will come. Now HE wil come." She shuddered again at the last thought, then took the sheet, stuffed it into an envelope, and put it with the other letters on the mantelpiece.

She had naively assumed that once she had cut Ashley out of her life, that woman would automatically disappear.

"How stupid, my God, how stupid!"

Now she would not bear even a temporary return to Atlanta, for that woman would be waiting for him there. And he would go to her, for they had not yet slept together.

Her heart was pounding fast and tearing with pain. She was hardly looking like herself. Very pale...

Scarlett heard the voices of children on the porch and jumped up from her chair, clasping her trembling hands in front of her. She heard his voice too and stepped back into the corner of the room, grabbing some newspaper from the table and sitting on the sofa.

"Mummy, we're here," she heard voices and lifted her head, smiling weakly.

The children stood there, not understanding why their mother was not coming to meet them, but sitting at the far end of the living room in the corner of the sofa, with a newspaper in her hands.

"She looks like a fox that's cowering in a hole," Rhett thought for some reason, smiling at her.

She smiled back weakly and asked the children to change before dinner. She could hear what her voice sounded like. It didn't sound like her, alien. Nevertheless, the children went upstairs to Prissy's and Rhett, taking off his white hat stood beside the table and decided to start the conversation softly.

"Scarlett, Honey, are you all right? You look pale..." he said with concern.

She only nodded, trying to feign a smile.

"The children on the walk today were reminiscing a lot about Beau and Melanie, I think they missed them a lot," he continued, and then added quietly, "I think it's time for us to plan our return home, don't you think, Scarlett?" he finished, smiling softly.

"I don't want to go back to Atlanta, Rhett! I don't! I'm not going back, do you hear?" she raised her voice in emotion and he saw her hands trembling.

He was shocked by her emotional reaction and tried to speak calmly.

"What's the matter, Scarlett? Answer me, is there any reason other than these people, this society?"

"Isn't that reason enough, Rhett? I feel bad there, I'm hated there. They've always gossiped about me, that's what they've lived by!"

"I guess you're exaggerating, Honey, we'll be back and I'll be there for you, I won't let anyone hurt you, I'll..."

"No!" she shrieked, "I won't go, I won't!"

He could see she was almost crying and for some reason she reminded him of an offended Bonnie. Something was wrong with her, with them.

"Scarlett, there's something you're not telling me, I can feel it."

How could she tell him she'd read the letter. How? How could she bear the thought that they might have had a child together with that woman. The very thought hurt her soul, made her sick to her stomach.

"I don't want to talk now, Rhett," she said, stood up from the sofa and he noticed her turn away and furtively wipe away her tears.

"Scarlett," he walked over to her and tried to hug her.

"No, don't touch me," she suddenly exclaimed and tried to pull out of his embrace.

His patience began to evaporate and he started to boil, "I'm not letting you go, do you hear me! What the hell is going on, Scarlett? You haven't been yourself since we came home!"

"Their son, their child. She wanted to give him a son. Their baby had gone!" The tears were coming, she couldn't control them anymore, but breathing was painful, hard, and nausea from worry and thoughts was coming up her throat. With all her strength, she grabbed his arms and pulled out of his embrace.

Rhett was shocked by the reaction and just didn't realize how quickly she'd sprinted out of the living room and into the street, out of there, onto the promenade and onto the deserted beach.

The wind was driving the clouds and it was obvious from everything that it was going to rain.

Scarlett walked quickly down the beach, almost running. She wanted to run away from these thoughts, not to think, not to know. Oh yes, she would rather not know! Tears were stinging her eyes, she didn't look round but just walked, walked, walked. It was starting to rain, but she didn't care. It hurt, a lot, she was torn by these emotions. It was worse than when she found out about Ashley and Melanie's wedding, it was worse than when she found out her mother had died, it was worse than when she found out about her father, it was a thousand times more painful when she found out he was sleeping with that woman. She suddenly stood in the middle of the beach, all wet from the rain, her hair sticking to her cheeks, she was soaked to the skin.

"Why does it hurt so damn much?!" she screamed loudly and sat down on the sand, sobbing.