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The mood that had struck Scarlett that morning was a state of sentimentality.
Yes, she was swollen, yes, she was sick, but she awoke content.
Rhett wouldn’t stay away forever. He teased her mercilessly for being a child, but honestly, he was just as bad if not worse. At least she had never run away.
Wade and Ella had missed him something dreadful and she had worked very hard to hold her tongue. Every time she wished to lash out about Rhett to them she would pause and think of her beautiful mother. Her mother was so kind and so sweet, and Scarlett wondered if her children would benefit if she would emulate her Ellen with more intent.
Scarlett had been trying.
Trying to soften those edges and be kinder to Wade and Ella. Melly had guided her gently, smiling ever so brightly when Scarlett told her she was expecting another baby.
To Scarlett’s shock, she smiled too when she said it. She, Scarlett Butler née O’Hara, smiled at the thought of having a baby.
Initially, it had surprised her, but of course, she grew to it, as her baby grew in her. Rhett, despite his many many flaws, was a wonderful father. He was a devoted father to Bonnie, Ella, and Wade. He loved being a father. He was tender and kind and patient, he was funny and silly and easy. He often made her hateful at herself for not being a good mother. She felt she was naturally cold and sharp, but it wasn’t like she wanted to be that way.
Her time away from Rhett allowed for reflection. The baby had a father that wanted it. That was the first time in her life she could say it. The first two times the men hadn’t been alive long enough to show it, and the last time with Bonnie she wasn’t really all that sure how Rhett would be.
This time she knew.
She meditated solely on the unborn child each night, her hands pressing soft circles with her palms against her slowly growing belly. She wanted a boy very badly. A boy who had Rhett’s dark eyes and hair. A boy for Wade, for him to have a brother of his own. A boy she would name after her father if Rhett would allow. She let Wade and Ella touch her belly, and she listened to them as they spoke excitedly about the new baby. Wade also wanted a boy, while Ella was unmoved by the sex, simply thrilled that there would be another baby to hold.
Sometimes Ella reminded Scarlett so acutely of her mother Ellen she felt like weeping.
Scarlett also thought less and less of Ashely. She thought of Rhett, not in a way of romantic love, though she certainly thought of his touch and it burned her bitterly how much she had missed it. She felt like kicking herself for rejecting it for so long. Honour be damned. A night that was thrilling and burned her like white-fire had led to her feeling the most content that she had in a very long time.
She loved Ashley, of course.
But she wasn’t thinking about him.
That morning she had woken up tearful, contemplative, and just sensitive. Sentimental and soft, she hadn’t put on her daytime wear to eat breakfast with her children. She had dined in her gold wrapper with the fur trim, smiling softly at her two children who bickered between each other about what would be more valuable for the new baby, for it to sleep with them or with mother. Both had firmly decided that the nursery was the best place for it, though Wade was firm that if it were a boy Ella should be kicked out to a different room with Bonnie because it would only be fair for boys and girls to have their own rooms; Scarlett had chuckled and murmured ‘we will see’.
It had been on her way back to her room to change for the day that she heard Mammy’s yelling. Scarlett's breath was gone for a thrilling moment. His name. Rhett’s name. She rushed forward, pausing at the top of the stairs to see her darling Bonnie Blue rushing the stairs, a poor kitten clutched to her breast, roaring ‘Mama! Mama!’.
Scarlett had rushed down the stairs and scooped her close, pressing her cheek to hers as she rocked her back and forth. Bonnie was quickly speaking about Nana and Charleston and the kitten. Scarlett gave her responses as ‘precious’ and ‘my darling’. She whispered against her baby’s hair that she missed her so deeply, and of course, the feeling of her baby pressed to her unborn child filled her with a sense of pride and joy she never thought she would be capable of.
“I wanna go out and see my pony,” Bonnie demanded. Scarlett had laughed and nodded, handing her back to Mammy as she stood slowly, carefully adjusting her wrapper as she felt the smile press to her face.
“Mrs Butler I believe.”
She glanced to see him stood in his suit. He looked devastatingly handsome as he swept his hat off and pressed it to his chest. His dark eyes burned her but every thought and fear fell away, her sensitive streak swelling as she looked at the man who she had married in front of God.
She ran to him without thinking, throwing herself into him, her arms wrapped tightly to his waist, her cheek pressed to his chest.
“Oh Rhett,” she sighed out, tears pricking her eyes, beaming. “Mammy said you'd come back.”
He froze under her for a moment but she didn’t notice.
She didn’t realise how much she missed the smell of him until it hit her. Tobacco and ink and sandalwood. He wore a French cologne which made her heady. She sighed out once more, pressed hard to him. His hand laid flat on her back but he made no effort to embrace her.
She didn’t notice.
She stayed there for a very long moment, holding him close as she felt the tension she didn’t know she was holding dissipate. He was back. The family that she didn’t even know she wanted was under one roof and she felt so calm.
“You’re home,” she whispered, smiling gently as she felt a few spare tears run her cheek. He touched the back of her head and she looked up at him, smiling adoringly.
She had never been that way with him in living memory, but she was feeling different than before.
She was trying.
“Only to bring Bonnie,” Rhett said, his voice casual but the cruelness in his eyes palpable. “Apparently any mother, even a bad one, is better for a child than none.”
She froze, the last fresh joyful tear ran its track down her cheek as she felt all emotion evaporate from her. She let her eyes drop down, unable to take him in. She slowly withdrew herself from him, astonished that he was still carrying such rage for her months on from seeing her. He truly was a spiteful beast at times.
“You mean you're going away again?” She murmured.
“What perception Mrs Butler,” he said, the caustic nature of what he said cut her. “Right away. In fact, I left my bags at the station.”
“Oh,” she said softly, lashes fluttering.
“You’re looking pale,” he commented. “Is there a shortage of rouge? Or can this wanness mean you’ve been missing me.”
“If I'm pale it's your fault.. because..." she trailed off, scowling to herself.
"Pray continue, Mrs Butler," he smirked.
She considered all the vicious and hurtful things she could hurl at him but then she remembered how she held her round stomach in the bath the night before, holding her hands to it, and how happy she had felt. Although she knew it silly a part of her didn’t wish the baby to hear her say something like that to Rhett. Even if he was a bully and a cad.
"It's because I'm going to have a baby, Rhett,” she uttered, defeated. Her profession lacked the joy and excitement she had fantasised about. She remembered his thrill when she was pregnant with Bonnie, but this time he had brought her a fit of cold and distant anger.
She couldn’t bring herself to look up.
“It’ll be here in September,” she murmured, disheartened further by his lack of response. “Wade wants a boy, as do I. I do hope you come back when the baby arrives. People will talk something terrible if you don’t.”
She decided to leave because God forbid that Rhett get the luxury of seeing her cry. He’d already seen her heartbreak in front of him, she wouldn’t water the humiliation with her own tears, less it grew up and strangle her.
She turned and walked carefully, eyes kept down as her jaw clenched.
“Indeed?” She heard him say. “And who is the happy father?”
She paused on the first step and looked back, a pure expression of injury pressed to her face.
“You are,” she said, voice aggrieved. "You know you are."
Damn the baby for softening her so. She was so emotional and womanly. She wished she was as full of fire, like when he abandoned her on the road to Tara. She had quick-moving fists and spittle had flown as she screamed. Now she felt nothing but tired and hurt. Her fantasy was burned through, leaving nothing but the ash of lost hope behind. She dropped her eyes again and continue to walk up the stairs.
“Are you pleased about it?”
She paused, now six steps higher than him. She didn’t turn, unable to tolerate the smug look on his face.
“Of course,” she said tightly, sounding offended. “Of course I am.”
She felt hateful at him, as his jests of her being a terrible mother were suddenly a reality. He truly did believe her to be nothing, a vast and empty, loveless woman. She had always taken what he said with a grain of salt but now it hurt with such acuteness that she would have preferred him to tie her to the post by the gazebo and whip her red and raw with the buggy whip he had so loved to threaten her with.
She continued to walk up the stairs but she could hear him following her.
She paled as the feeling of nausea rose in her breast, the cold chill that precipitated such an expulsion.
“Please Rhett,” she said quietly as she continued to walk. “I don’t feel well. I don’t want to fight. I’ll write you when the baby comes.”
She wasn’t sure she had ever heard herself said ‘please’ to him and it burned her that she was begging him to simply leave her be when mere moments ago she was fantasising a warm but passionate reunion. She felt his hand fall on her wrist and she paused, clenching her eyes closed. She heard him move slowly, turning to stand in front of her. She wouldn’t look, keeping her eyes firmly shut and her jaw set to keep the sick and the pain at bay.
“Scarlett,” she heard him rumble. “Look at me.”
She stilled herself, screwing her courage down as she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, pursing her lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked lowly, his eyes were dark.
“What?” She asked, unable to understand the question.
“You never wrote, have you just kept this to yourself?” He asked, the unsaid accusation in his voice burning her.
“I wanted to tell you myself,” she said bitterly. “I thought you’d be happy… I thought…”
She trailed off, paling as she looked away.
“You thought what?” He prompted.
She didn’t answer and she felt his temper fraying.
“You thought-”
She was sick at his feet, her breakfast hitting the stairs and splashing his fancy shoes. She doubled over, her arm held up by his grip. She whimpered softly, detesting the weak and feeble sound that escaped her, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, her knees going weak for a short moment. She blindly reached for the wooden bannister, feeling her knuckles pale as she dug in. Rhett's grip remained on her wrist.
“Let go,” she finally uttered, unable to face him.
This would be his lasting image of her. He would abandon her for months once again, his final thoughts of her bundled over, sick on his shoes, her skin pale and her eyes tearful.
Pathetic.
She wished the world would just swallow her whole.
“Come along Scarlett,” he said softly. She felt his hand on her lower back as she walked her around the damp carpet and carefully up the stairs. She didn’t let herself grow hopeful at his kindness, rather she thought perhaps Mammy or some other staff had returned and he was doing his best to appear the gentleman he so desperately wanted to be seen as by everyone but her. He took her to her bedroom and she blushed as torrid memories of that night flew through her mind. She pushed them away and focused on walking slowly. Rhett placed her on the edge of her bed and brought back a damp cloth from her washstand.
She took it with a shaky hand and wiped down her mouth and palms, handing it back to Rhett’s expectant hand.
“How long?” He asked.
“Three months,” she answered quietly. She kept her eyes down, praying he would just go. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t survive him not only dismissing the fantasy but building a cruel reality that she couldn’t escape.
“Are you happy?” He asked once more. His voice was smooth and controlled and she didn’t need to look up to know that he was certainly wearing impassive face he loved to don just to taunt her.
“I was,” she said.
“Was?”
“Am,” she corrected, sounding unsure. “I don’t know. I am.. I was… I was hopeful you’d be happy too.”
She didn’t look up, the Catholic in her running up her spine.
“This is my penance for Bonnie,” she realised bitterly. “Because you were excited and I wasn’t.”
She was silently pleased she said it before he could. She couldn’t bear him to tell her this was her fault. That she was a fanciful little girl, that her idealism that occasional resurfaced made her charmless and ugly to him. He liked her tough, she thought. Tough and vicious and cruel. Independent and at times not at all womanly. That is what kept him coming back all those years.
Now she was a tearful woman worn down by her husband. She guessed he would probably never touch her again.
“You want a boy?”
She nodded stiffly.
“Why is that Scarlett?”
She contemplated lying but she considered that she would already be so loathsome to him, so impossibly soft and brittle and unattractive, that it didn’t matter at all.
“I wanted a baby that looked like you,” she said as emotionless as possible. “A boy with your eyes and your hair.”
There was silence to her confession. She closed her eyes softly, trying to hold her nerve. He would leave soon, she could just give him what he wanted and then he would leave. She would not fight back and stoke the fires that she knew Rhett loved. He loved seeing her angry and biting, like a dog chained up in his yard. She wouldn’t satisfy that itch, even if it meant humiliating herself. Which was of no concern, as her expulsion on the step was as humiliated as she could ever possibly be.
“Is that true Scarlett?”
She nodded.
She heard him before she saw him, the rustle of his clothes as he knelt down, taking her hands in his, the wet cloth abandoned on the carpet beside him. She looked at him warily, his face calm and soft.
“May I?” he asked. His eyes burned her stomach and she nodded suspiciously, watching his hand move from hers and press to the small but prominent bump that grew in her belly. He watched the back of his hand intently. She still wanted the baby to have those intense eyes. Those eyes were the eyes of a man who knew nothing but success. He took her hands once more and pressed a kiss to it, pulling her wrist as he kissed her open palms. She stared at him, unable to comprehend what she was viewing. Rhett was a man that didn’t belong on his knees. He looked strange there and she had only ever seen him there when he was mocking her.
She felt the swell of panic that he was doing exactly that. She snatched her hands back, eyes wide.
“Don’t be cruel Rhett,” she snapped.
He looked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding graced his face.
He stood over her and her eyes traced up with him. She felt herself move from him ever so slightly, body curving in an attempt to protect herself from the rain of harsh words she thought would come.
“I have never seen you excited for a baby,” he said impassively. She didn’t say anything, eyes watching him doubtfully.
“You’ll need to leave soon if you wish to catch your train,” she said resentfully, her voice soft but hateful.
“Do you want me to go, Scarlett?”
The way he watched her made her afraid to lie.
“I wanted you to come back,” she said begrudgingly, trying to muster some kind of hardness to her expression. “But I don’t want you to stay if you didn’t mean to. I don’t need your pity.”
He nodded, sitting down next to her, his body crowding her space.
“And if I wanted to stay?”
She said nothing, eyes looking down at the damp rag in an attempt to ignore him once more.
“I have never known you to do anything that doesn’t please you, Rhett,” she answered, the pique evident in her voice. “You’ve never once listened to me, I doubt you’ll start now.”
He wrapped his arm around her, his lips coming to press her temple.
“I never thought I’d see you happy to have a baby Scarlett,” he murmured against her head. “Let alone mine.”
She didn’t move an inch.
“Thank you,” he said softly, with such genuineness that her heart shattered in her chest.
She stayed perfectly still before the tears rushed without warning down her face, soundless and cathartic. She had been holding them back from the moment she woke and now they rushed down her face as though it were washing away the day.
“Oh Scarlett,” he laughed softly, pulling her into his lap and rocking her back and forth as she curled to him, burying her tear-soaked face into his neck as she cried endlessly. It may have been moments or hours by the time she felt her throat open enough to let sound escape, instead of filled by her own sobs.
“Are you leaving?” She asked.
A chuckle rumbled down her from his chest as she felt the vibration from his throat hit her forehead and her closed eyes.
“No of course not,” he said. “Silly thing.”
She wept once more, clinging to him till she cried herself out, too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep in his arms.