Scarlett walked through her front door and immediately knew something was wrong. There was a scent that hit her nose, a scent she had not smelled in her home for a very long time. The aroma tugged at her brain, the stench as sharp as the memories it conjured. She had always known that this day would come. For months she had cried herself to sleep because it hadn't. But those tears had long since stopped falling. That well of emotion had long since dried up.

She tore off her winter cloak, the fabric whipping as it dropped to the floor, and stormed down the hall toward the back parlor. No matter how many years it had been he would make himself at home. Rhett had never avoided doing anything because it might make her life easier.

Her heels clicked loudly against the wooden floors and she uttered a quick prayer of thanks that Wade and Ella's train had been delayed. She paused, just for a moment, just to carve out that last scrap of desire. It wasn't that hard.

Her hand clutched the doorknob, she threw open the door, and there he was—lounging on the sofa, his long legs stretched out, a cigar tucked elegantly between his full lips, and that cool look upon his face. Her chin tilted up. Her eyes slanted down. She had survived his good-bye. She would survive his return.

Without breaking a step, she swept toward him and yanked the cigar from his mouth. "I don't permit strangers to smoke in the family parlor," she said, flinging the butt into the cold grate.

The embers trailed as sparks in a night sky and the smoke curled around his head. It prickled in her nostrils and stung her eyes. She stepped back and raked her eyes carelessly over him. The years had been kind to him.

"Evening, Scarlett," he drawled at last. His glinting gaze roved up and down her now, slicking through her clothes and oozing underneath her skin. "There is nothing like a warm welcome from your wife."

"What are you doing here?"

"I told you I would come back to keep the gossip down."

"That was six years ago. The gossip has come and gone." Her voice thickened with disgust. "And so should you."

"You're the one, madam, who didn't want a divorce."

"That doesn't mean I want you back in my life."

Something flickered in his black eyes, flickered and was gone. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but the last time we spoke you begged me to stay and professed an undying love for me. Was that all an act? It was a rather convincing one, I'll admit."

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "No, it wasn't an act, but it was a long, long time ago. I've had time to think things over. I've had time to think of all the wrong you did to me."

"Neither of us is faultless, my pet—"

"I am not your pet."

"My dear—"

"I am not your dear."

"You are my wife," he said quietly.

"In name only."

He stood with the slow grace of an old stallion. His shadow loomed over and all around her. Age had not diminished his strength, nor shrunken his height. "I didn't come back to relive the past, Scarlett. I didn't come back to fight."

"Why did you come back?"

"I came back for you, of course." His black brows arched up, those mocking wrinkles so deep, that the nostalgia nearly buckled her knees out from under her. She would not bow before him, though. She allowed the sway of the moment to rush past her, and then straightened her shoulders and spine. The storm, this wind, would not knock her to the floor this time.

"You nearly destroyed me, Rhett—out of everything, it was you that nearly destroyed me. It took all the strength I had not to just surrender. But somehow, I did it. Somehow I stayed alive. Somehow I learned to live without you." She blew the hot breath out of her lips. "You are no longer welcome here. Go back to wherever you came from."

Rhett stared down at her. She had never been able to read his thoughts on his blank, dark face. Tonight was no different. He lifted his hand, and her muscles tensed. Her jaw clenched. Rhett frowned, and swiping his fingers across that errant strand of bang, muttered, "Si vix pacem, para bellum."

"Don't," she seethed. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what Scarlett?" he asked tiredly.

"Don't try and talk at me like I am a child. I'm not the broken girl that wept for days after you left. I don't care what your fancy phrase means. I care that you're still here and that if you linger too long, Wade and Ella will be home."

"I'd like to see them."

"They won't like to see you."

"How would you know?"

"I am their mother."

He leaned back and sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You think I don't know that you've shipped them off to boarding school for the past six years?"

"Viper," she thought. "That's what he is, a snake in my garden that I can't kill." She twirled away from him. She couldn't be so near to him. It did things to her. There had always been electricity between them. Even when she had been ignorant of his love, she had been aware of his presence. She clutched at the back of the sofa and looked up at him, straining against her own dead ache for him. He needed to leave.

"Who let you in Rhett?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You always do. I mean who opened the door and let you in? You don't know any of my staff. I need to know who I should fire."

"No one let me in Scarlett. I have a key."

"I should have changed that stupid lock years ago."

"Apparently."

Her palm throbbed to slap that smirk off his face. "Please," she begged instead. "Please just go."

Finally, Rhett nodded. He picked up his hat from off a table and slowly crossed the room. Stopping at the parlor door, he placed his hand on the frame and turned back to her.

"Just out of curiosity—would it change anything if I loved you?"

"No," she said, after a breathless moment. "No."

Not another word was spoken. Rhett disappeared down the hallway. Scarlett stumbled her way around the sofa and fell down, trembling and heaving. She had done it. With the echo of his voice in the room, she hugged herself and wept. Tomorrow had come, and gone.

Disclaimer: I own neither "I Will Survive" nor GWTW...

Note: I couldn't sleep. I couldn't write what I "should" be writing. So I wrote this instead, because three songs came up on my random Youtube playlist: I Will Survive, Jar of Hearts, My Immortal. Eh, voila. (And if you are ever bored like me, and avoiding doing anything actually productive, you might watch the Youtube GWTW fanvids...There are some fun ones.)

Thanks for those who review. Probably one-shot. I just don't have the time, and I have too many ideas for ABS and need to finish PE. And I think this really is a one-shot, even if I hate that they aren't together. Every time...it just kills me. I re-read the novel recently...and every time it just kills me.