The week after Melanie's death always remained a blur in Scarlett's memory.
Somehow she managed to maintain an outward semblance of self control, taking charge of the funeral arrangements, ensuring everyone in Aunt Pitty's household had appropriate mourning attire, welcoming the many callers who came to pay their last respects, comforting the wailing Aunt Pitty and bewildered little Beau. Ashley was like a stranger to her, wandering aimlessly, as lost and bewildered as his son. She wanted to shout at him to pull himself together, but she gritted her teeth and said nothing.
Inwardly she was reeling from the double blows of losing both Melanie and Rhett. Rhett and Melanie, the two people in her world who had always stood by her, always valued her, always loved her. The two people she should have appreciated the most and never had, until it was too late.
She felt their loss like a physical pain, a dull, hard ache in her chest which she carried around with her.
Her Rhett! He was still physically present, for he had decided to stay for Melanie's funeral. But emotionally he had already departed. There was no warmth in him, no light, no comfort. She saw little of him. She knew he was drinking heavily, and she guessed that he was avoiding her.
Sometimes she felt she was trapped in a nightmare that would never end.
The nights were the worst. Alone with her thoughts, she tossed and turned fretfully, sleep alluding her. When she did finally fall into a restless sleep, her dreams did nothing to comfort her. Her old nightmare returned, and she woke screaming in fear. But Rhett did not come to comfort her. And she sobbed alone in the darkness.
Finally the day of the funeral arrived. A large crowd gathered at the graveside to see Melanie laid to rest. Ashley, India and Aunt Pitty, clad in black from head to foot, were all watery eyed and leaning on each other for support. Scarlett stood to one side of them, erect and still. Rhett stood just behind her; she felt his physical presence though they were not touching.
She had been shocked at his appearance when he had emerged to accompany her that morning. He was, as usual, immaculately and tastefully groomed, but his eyes were bloodshot and his gait a little unsteady. More than that, he looked old and tired, Scarlett had thought to herself, and her heart had given a little lurch.
'Shall we go Mrs Butler?', he had said quietly, offering her his arm. It was a few moments before she had found her voice, to reply, in a tone which she had hoped matched his own cool formality, that she was ready.
Now, at the graveside, her thoughts turned again to Melly. Melly was the only true friend she had ever had, she thought with despair. Melly, who always stood by her and loved her. What would become of her without Melly? She dug her nails into her palms and bit down on her lip. 'I mustn't cry', she told herself, 'I mustn't cry'. But as she gazed on Melly's small coffin and the hole in the ground waiting to receive it, she was vividly reminded of Bonnie's even smaller coffin buried nearby, and a hot warm tear slid silently down her cheek. She turned to flee before she made a spectacle of herself.
But Rhett saw her movement, and he moved faster than her to halt her flight. Before she quite knew how it happened, he was standing beside her with his arm firmly around her shoulder. She hardly dared to breathe. Rhett was holding her! How good it was to feel his masculine strength. She wished it could go on forever. She could bear losing Melly if only Rhett was beside her.
Rhett stayed with her, supporting her, until it was all over. Only when they were alone in their carriage did he move away from her. He had not spoken to her the whole time, and he did not speak to her now, but instead gazed steadfastly out the window, his arms crossed over his chest, fists clenched. Scarlett observed him and saw his tension. She wondered what he was thinking.
Was he despising her, hating being near her, eager to escape? She studied him closely. But he looked far away, hardly aware of her presence. No, she decided, he wasn't thinking of her at all. She thought then that maybe he was thinking of Melly. She remembered the look on his face when she had told him Melly was dead. He had said she was a very great lady, and he had looked inexpressibly sad. Or perhaps his thoughts were on Bonnie, as hers had been. It occurred to her then, rather belatedly, that he was quite probably grieving just as deeply as she was! Suddenly she longed to comfort him, but he seemed so unreachable. How could she comfort him when he didn't want her?
Later that evening they ate a silent supper together. As Rhett rose from the table he bowed slightly to her and said flatly 'Goodnight Scarlett. I shall be leaving in the morning.'
'Goodnight Rhett. Thank you for.. for today', she answered quietly. And then, because she couldn't bear not knowing, she asked 'When will I see you again Rhett? You said that you would come back often enough to keep down the gossip, how often is that?' She hoped that her voice sounded calm, but she rather feared her desolation was all too evident to the man who knew her like no other.
He looked at her pityingly then, and she squirmed inwardly. How she hated to be pitied.
'I won't make you promises I can't keep Scarlett. I will come back when I can bear it', he answered roughly, then he bowed once more and swiftly exited the room.