Sorry I'm so late, I was out all evening. Don't be late for work, Guest!

After Wade had been brought to school, and Ella to Melanie's house, Scarlett parked the car around the corner from the Wilkeses' house and finally texted Rhett.

S-You left a ring.

R-So I did.

S-Was that a proposal?

R-And what if it was?

S-Then it was pretty shitty.

R-Whoever told you honesty is the best policy didn't know you very well.

S-What is that supposed to mean?

R-It means you are far too blunt.

S-Stop talking in circles. I don't understand.

R-I'm not proposing to you in a text message.

S-So it was a proposal?

R-Scarlett. Stop refusing my calls.

S-I don't want to talk right now.

R-Then we have reached an impasse.

The first day, her phone hardly left her hand. She checked it nearly constantly, unable to believe Rhett would leave it at that. The box in her purse jabbed at her hand. At home that night she took it out and dropped it on the top of her dresser.

The next morning, she shoved it in the back of her drawer. A plain black box, innocuous, it should have gotten lost in the clutter she always managed to accumulate. It drew her eye. It irritated her.

"That fucking asshole," she muttered under her breath as she stashed it under a tangle of chemise tanks. She checked her phone again.

A week later, Wade was watching TV on the couch while Ella pulled herself up on the plastic frame of her playpen. Scarlett watched her with one eye while she stirred a pot of spaghetti sauce, waiting for the screaming to start. It was the first step of her favorite game - pull herself up then howl in rage that she was unable to go anywhere from that position. Scarlett would rush over, disengage the tiny fingers from the plastic mesh and set her down on her rear. Ella would crawl - in a circle, across the playmat, maybe only two short little scoots - then repeat. For a baby who had rarely cried, this new hobby was beyond aggravating. Scarlett couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with Frank's death; not that Ella could understand that, but could she feel that someone important had gone missing? Had that soured her previously easy-going temperament somehow?

Before Ella began to howl, Wade suddenly turned around and draped himself over the back of the couch. "Mom?"

"What is it, Wade?" Scarlett asked, sharper than she had intended. The waiting game with Ella was getting on her nerves. Wade dropped his head, looking at her from underneath the long lashes so like her own.

"Nevermind," he muttered. He didn't turn around, but started plucking at the material along the back of the couch. Ella began to cry. Scarlett set the spoon down on the counter and went to scoop up the baby and set her back down again. Ella scooted forward on her butt and grabbed at the playpen again. Scarlett stuck her hands in her back pockets and half-turned so she could keep an eye on Ella and see Wade on the couch.

"Spit it out, Wade."

"You'll be mad."

Scarlett scooped Ella up as soon as her mouth opened and plopped her back on her rear. Ella started to crawl around the perimeter. Scarlett went back to the stove, ruffling Wade's hair as she passed him.

"I'll get over it," she said.

Wade lifted his head, his face all scrunched up. Scarlett pretended to be engrossed in the spaghetti sauce.

"IsUncleRhettComingBack?" he said, so quickly the sounds all smooshed together into one long wood.

Scarlett's fingers clenched around the spoon. "No," she said shortly.

Wade's face was bright red but he must have found some heretofore unsuspected bravery, for he pressed on. "Did you ask him?"

Scarlett pressed her lips tightly together before saying again, "No."

"I didn't think you would," Wade muttered, turning around and slumping back into the cushions. Scarlett stared at the bubbling red sauce. Her phone was within reach, screen-up on the counter. She didn't need to check it. There hadn't been any new messages from Rhett.

Ella screamed again.

Three weeks since she had last heard from Rhett, Scarlett bought a house to flip. At four weeks, she dug the ring box out of her drawer. She set it back on top of the dresser, smack in the middle. A lacy green bra strap curled around it. After eyeing it for a moment, she stomped out of her bedroom in a huff.

Life had a new rhythm now, juggling the two children alone and supervising work on the new project. It was her first flip without Frank. Without Frank holding me back, she thought, then panicked. I mustn't think that. It's wrong. Guilt made her nauseous and without even thinking about it, she pulled the green bra over the ring box, hiding it from sight.

When Scarlett went to pick the kids up from Melanie, Wade and Beau were playing in the backyard. The women sat side-by-side on the old couch and watched Ella crawling around Melanie's rug. Scarlett took a deep breath and blurted out, "Has Wade said anything about Frank?"

"What do you mean?"

Scarlett puffed a strand of hair out of her face. "He hasn't said anything to me since Frank died. I don't know if that's - if that's normal, or if I should be worried. I thought maybe…" She looked sideways at Melanie. "Well you know he talks to you more than anyone."

Melanie's cheeks pinked. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly, and covered Scarlett's hand with her own. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone else," she said.

"I don't need you to make me feel better about it," Scarlett answered irritably, though she didn't pull her hand away. "Do you think he's doing okay?"

Melanie squeezed her fingers. "He did, uhm, he did ask if he could live here if you died. Oh, Scarlett, I hope you don't mind, I said of course he could. I was just so surprised, I wasn't thinking clearly - I'm sure you have plans-"

Scarlett went cold. She didn't have plans, not new ones. Shit. "It's okay, Mel. That - well you're his closest real family, aren't you? That would be perfect."

"You know, darling, that I would take care of Ella, too. I would love her like my own little girl." Scarlett glanced at Melanie and saw she was bright red, clearly embarrassed. Mel would be worried she was overstepping. Scarlett took a deep breath and turned her hand to squeeze Melanie's in return.

"Thank you," she mumbled. She cleared her throat. "But he's been okay? You think he's...I don't know, normal?"

Melanie smiled and kissed her cheek. "We have talked a couple times. I - well, I don't know him like you do, of course," You know him better than I ever have, I'm sure, thought Scarlett, "but I think he'll be just fine. And we're all here for him, he knows that."

Scarlett nodded and turned her head in Ella's direction, but her eyes were unfocused. She'd have to see the lawyer again. Maybe he had mentioned something about updating her own will; in those blurry unfocused weeks before she'd been able to retreat to Tara, she hadn't been paying attention.

"Thanks," she said, and squaring her shoulders, drew her attention back to the present. "For everything, Mel," she added, squeezing the other woman's hand again.

Melanie blushed again and pulled her hand back, only to draw Scarlett into a hug. Scarlett stiffened, returning the embrace awkwardly, struggling to keep her face neutral as Melanie pulled away. Her gratitude still only went so far. Once released, she hurried to scoop Ella up and make their excuses. The women went to the back door to call the boys in, but they were both so grubby Scarlett told Wade to just meet her in front. Melanie laughed as she hustled Beau into the kitchen and ordered him to take off his clothes and leave them on the linoleum. Ella waved "bye-bye" over Scarlett's shoulder as they left.

"Sorry," Wade mumbled as he climbed into the car next to Ella's carseat. Scarlett looked at him from the other side as she clipped Ella into the seat.

"You can help me clean it out later," she said, trying to tease, but Wade hung his head. "It's okay," she added, lowering her voice. Wade shrugged and turned to look out the window.

That night, Scarlett lifted the bra that had been covering the little black box and flung the bra into the corner of her bedroom.

It had been their bedroom. Scarlett had emptied it of any trace of Frank as soon as they had come back from Tara. It was the only way she had been able to move back in and not go back to sleeping on the couch. He had been gone four months and it was as if the two years in the house hadn't even happened. They'd hardly even hung any family photos - one wedding photo, now in a box. A handful of photos of Frank with Ella, only one with Wade, also in the box. Scarlett sat on their bed - her bed - and stared at the small black shape on the dresser. It had been four months since Frank's death. Only four months?

Unanalytical, she tried now to examine herself and felt frustrated as insight seemed just to evade her attempts to bring it into the light. There was Frank and her less-than-honest motivation for turning his affections away from Suellen. She hadn't felt particularly guilty about that. Not until later, when the affection she had created for Frank began to struggle under the weight of their daily lives, the little annoyances and constant struggles. Once the veil had been torn, and she had forced herself to confront her truly mercenary motives, then the guilt had surfaced. She had only added to an already solid foundation when Rhett had come back into her life. And Rhett...the black box taunted her. Consumed by her guilt, she hadn't even bothered to consider Rhett's side. If she had, marriage would not have been one of her guesses. How could he do this to her!

A sudden thought paralyzed her - what if Rhett had left Atlanta again? He wouldn't do that, he couldn't turn around and sell that house she had worked so hard on. That renovation was all caught up in everything else; if he sold it, somehow it would feel like she had betrayed Frank for nothing.

Scarlett flopped back on the bed. Even she could see how that was a twisted thought. But one thing stood out to her, twisted and wrong though it might be: she missed Rhett. Before she could think around it, before pride could stop her, she rolled onto her stomach and reached for her phone.

S-What the hell is an impasse?

Scarlett chewed on her lower lip, biting back a smile as she imagined his eyebrow lifting just so. Rhett loved any chance to show off as a human dictionary. It was utterly obnoxious, of course.

R-I'm sorry, who is this?

S-don't be an asshole

R-Ah, Scarlett! Your always elegant choice of words is familiar.

S-You left something here.

No answer. Scarlett kicked her feet on the mattress. She checked her email. She opened a game and closed it again before it had even finished loading. Nothing. She gritted her teeth.

S-I have to get Wade from Melanie's house by 6 tomorrow. Are you free before then?

R-I'll be home at 4:00.

Scarlett knocked on Rhett's front door just after 4 o'clock. Rhett let her in, still dressed for work in a black suit and dark red tie. In the middle of the living room she thrust the ring box back at him. He ignored it, his eyes never leaving her face. Scarlett took a deep breath.

"Why did you do this?"

"Because it was clear you weren't going to listen to me. If you recall, you were rather frantic to get me out of your house."

Scarlett paced away, letting the box fall on the coffee table. "Why?"

"I said -"

Scarlett waved her hands at him in a quieting gesture. "No, not that. Whatever. You left the ring because I kicked you out, fine. But...why? In the first place?"

Rhett shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket and they bulged with his fists, but his face was bland and his eyes dark and blank.

"You mean, why do I want to marry you," he said, without question.

"Yes," she exhaled, forgetting to breathe air back into her straining lungs.

"Because I love you, Scarlett."

"Oh, God," she moaned, sinking down in a corner of the long sofa. She recoiled as Rhett came to his knees before her.

"My dear Scarlett," he proclaimed, "It cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past the friendship I have had in my heart for you has ripened into a deeper feeling, a feeling more beautiful-"

"Stop! Stop that," she pleaded, pushing weakly at his shoulders.. "This isn't funny, Rhett."

Rhett abandoned his comedic speech and caught her hands in his. "I am asking you to marry me."

"You are joking."

Without releasing her hands, Rhett moved from his knees to sit beside her on the couch. "Something else is the matter. What is it?"

"What will people think?" Scarlett whispered.

"Do you care what they will think?"

Scarlett nodded. "It won't look right, marrying so soon after Fr - marrying so quickly. People will talk…"

Rhett bent a long, hard look at her, and as always Scarlett felt he could see right through her. She didn't know whether to be relieved this time, or nervous and resentful.

"You feel guilty."

"It was wrong and you know it."

Rhett squeezed her hands. "I regret that I dishonored your marriage on two occasions. Two, Scarlett," he said clearly, his black eyes piercing her. "You were no longer married when you spent the night here, nor when I-"

"It shouldn't have happened," she insisted, looking down at their clasped hands.

"Are you sorry?"

"What a question!" Scarlett cried, throwing off his hands and standing up.

"Answer it."

"No, alright? No, I'm not sorry."

When Rhett did not respond, Scarlett stopped pacing and peeked at him from the corner of her eye. She had expected some sort of response. "I'm not sorry," she repeated, and marveled at the simple truth.

Finally, Rhett spoke. "So you don't feel sorry for what happened. That's why you feel guilty, because you know you haven't done what you think the world will expect. Scarlett, don't fly off the handle here, but when has that ever stopped you?"

Scarlett crossed her arms and scowled down at him.

"I'm not sorry," Rhett said. "Nor do I feel any burden of guilt. I am just not a good enough person, I suppose, for I cannot bring myself to regret what happened. That's part of why I like you," he added, one corner of his mouth going down in his familiar lopsided grin. "We share the same moral failings."

Scarlett bristled . "How dare you-"

Rhett surged to his feet and interrupted the weak protest with a kiss. "I love you, Scarlett," he said, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his mustache against her skin as he spoke. "I love your morals, your beauty, and your hard and clever mind. Your whole tempestuous self. I assure you, it is far better to be loved because of your flaws than in spite of them." A hard look came into his eyes as he said this, fleeting and utterly at odds with the resonant emotion in his deep voice.

"Rhett..." she murmured, her own mind churning.

"Forget what people say. We'll take a honeymoon so long they'll forget all about us."

"But Wade and Ella…"

"We'll take them with us." Scarlett scrunched up her face, a gut reaction to that absurd idea. Rhett laughed. "Oh, so you'd rather face the gossips than take the children on our honeymoon? Fair enough."

"Rhett, I haven't said I'll marry you."

Though her voice was soft, something in Rhett seemed to snap. His arms went around her hard, and she felt immediately the surging warmth and drowning darkness that had already been her downfall. "You will, damn you," he growled, before he kissed her. There was no gentle arousal to passion, but a fierce, demanding kiss that set her to trembling in his arms, clinging to him for support even as she felt the tremor in his own body against hers.

"Marry me," Rhett demanded, but forebore an immediate answer with another kiss. "Say yes," he insisted, his mouth barely leaving hers.

"Please-"

Rhett shook his head and she felt his lips brush across hers. "No. Say yes."

Scarlett pulled back a little to look up into his eyes. They were wide, and blazing with more passion than he had ever openly revealed to her.

"You really mean it," she said, stupidly. Rhett laughed tersely.

"Yes, I mean it."

"What-"

Rhett shook her. "What nothing. There is only one word I want to hear from you right now. Say it."

Suddenly giddy, Scarlett dimpled up at him. "It."

Rhett's brows drew together in a mockery of anger. Releasing one of her arms, he pinched her rear sharply. "You're going to be unbearable now, aren't you," he accused.

"Yes," she said, her mouth relaxing into a more heartfelt smile. She leaned against his chest, tilting her head up for another kiss.

Rhett lowered his head, then stopped. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes, Rhett. Yes, I will marry you. Kiss me."

It was a novel feeling, having her command obeyed by Rhett Butler. He clasped her in his arms and lifted her off her feet to kiss her, and she wrapped her own arms around him to steady herself in his embrace. A dizzy giddiness overcame her and she clung to him, his strong form anchoring her as the room spun around them. His lips were gentle now, coaxing her to respond, his tongue teasing her until she deepened the kiss of her own accord. He was so perverse - always unexpected, always leading her out onto bridges she feared would be cut apart beneath her - but there to catch her, all the same.

She felt cushions giving way beneath her knees, softly forcing her legs to bend in a familiar sensation, reminiscent of the last night they had been together. Her skin went hot as she remembered and she broke the kiss, burying her face in Rhett's neck. He smelled of cologne, tobacco; for once, not whiskey or wine. They were both utterly sober. No more excuses behind which Scarlet could hide, or use to justify her actions. She felt her hair stir, then the warm sensation of his lips against her scalp.

"I love you," he said, so quietly, perhaps thinking she wouldn't hear him. Scarlett inhaled and thought of Rhett on the patio the previous spring, and his knee hot against hers through their jeans, his jaw rough under her lips in a dark bar - and other memories that went with these. The way he had listened to her without judgement, calmed her anxieties, and been so utterly unlike himself - or the self she had assumed him to be - when she had needed him, replacing mockery with empathy. Truth washed over her as a gentle wave, easy to accept, and she did so without question, as a child accepting a gift.

"I love you, too," she mumbled into his neck and felt his arms tighten around her. Then he gripped her biceps again and lifted her so he could look into her eyes. "You're going to bruise me," she grumbled, shimmying, "if you keep manhandling me like this."

"I doubt it." He bent a leering look on her that left no doubt even in her stubborn mind as to his innuendo. She stuck out her tongue, and he chased it back into her mouth with a deep kiss. "Say it again," he said, pulling back to be able to see her clearly.

"I love you," she repeated, bracing herself against his chest. Scarlett could feel his heart pounding under her palm and it reassured her that she was not alone with the almost painful beat thudding in her own chest. His eyes were fierce and bright, intense without the impenetrable hardness that she had seen so often - emotion writ nakedly in his gaze and upon his face. She had only a glimpse before his lips were on hers again, insistently parting her own, until she was shaking under the onslaught of feeling his kiss roused in her. She had been a fool to think she could have walked away from this. "I feel faint," she said softly, pulling away and gulping deep breaths of air to fill her lungs.

Rhett pressed her to his shoulder and they sat quietly for a long moment, until her breathing had calmed, though she could still feel the hard beat of his heart against her own chest. She grumbled in wordless protest at the disruption as Rhett moved beneath her, leaning forward slightly, holding her now with one arm.

"You don't want to take it back?" he asked.

"What?" Scarlett responded, confused. Take what back? Rhett jostled her in his arms, nudging her to look down. She saw the open ring box cupped in his large palm. She reached for it. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed.

Rhett laughed. "I shall flatter myself that it is not just greed that makes you say that."

Scarlett made a pretty pout, a practiced move she had often used to get her own way, but this time there was a flash of real hurt in her eyes as she looked up at him. Did he doubt her? "Don't be mean," she said.

Rhett's dark eyes were somber as he grasped her hand in his and slid the cool gold band onto her ring finger. "You'll have to get used to all my bad habits," he teased. "But isn't it worth it?" He rubbed her finger just above the ring.

"Hardly!" she scoffed, clutching her hand to her chest. "You are a - well, you are-"

Rhett laughed, drowning out her futile attempt to attach an epithet to him. Asshole just didn't seem appropriate now. Though, knowing Rhett, that probably wouldn't last.

He moved so quickly it took her breath away, and the next thing she knew she was beneath him on the long couch. His mouth was warm and his body insistent as he pressed her into the firm cushions. If all his apologies would be like this, though…

"Yes," she said, as his mouth trailed along her jaw to the vulnerable, sensitive skin below her ear. Yes, it was worth it. Yes, she would marry him. Yes, she loved him.

With apologies to Margaret Mitchell for lifting a rather large quote. Thank you for writing such an expansive novel that has provided me with such a wonderful playground. I own not a drop of her content nor characters, but I can't seem to leave them alone.

That's it for this one, but I should have something small to share soon, and many other things in the hopper. Thank you for reading and reviewing!