So this appears like it will be a brief fic. I think it's because of the nature of them not dealing with each other. It is kind of flying by like it does in the book…Ugh we waited for so long in the book only to have it go by soooo fast in the book.

What this fic will be like: Itty bitty chapters, maybe every 2 to 3 days. Lol. So if you guys want to stagger out reviews totally cool with that. It is not done, so don't actually abandon me. :-P

We are starting just where we started with ADETP.


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Bear to Love

July 1871

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"Cheer up," he said, turning from her and staring up the stairs, "maybe you'll have a miscarriage."

He caught his wife's wrist seconds later, his fingers capturing it so tightly, he'd likely leave bruises. She was pulled slightly towards him, her slippers easily slid across the freshly waxed landing.

Despite the tightness of his grasp, the hardness did not return to his face, "Why I hardly mean now, no one in this town would ever believe it were an accident. Being a widower in jail is hardly an appealing future, why I imagine, it could likely be worse than being your husband."

"Why you-" she wanted to claw his eyes out.

He began to pull her along the landing, her slippers and his grip, resulted in her being dragged along like a rag doll. "I suppose at least for the next 6-" he paused and looked, "do realize if it is four or eight that I will have grounds for a divorce, at least until this is over, we'll be able to explain your outbursts and poor behavior to the town."

"Being married to you is the only reason I need," she was finally able to tear her arm away as Rhett had her cornered to take the last few steps up towards the hallway and their rooms.

"Do go see to your daughter, she had been eager to see you," he dismissed his wife as he headed towards his room.

-o-o-o-

He locked his door as he entered his room, something he hadn't recalled ever doing. Ever hopeful his wife would one day dare to open it. She hadn't though. No instead he had bared his soul and chased his wife down a hallway to get her in bed again.

The child couldn't be his, his wife had to have gone to Ashley's bed after he left. He knew he had pushed her to it, he had wanted that divorce so damn badly, he had wanted to be away from her so damn badly.

She would make a laughing stock out of him. Charleston wouldn't be far enough to move with Bonnie. Maybe the north, maybe England. Maybe France. Maybe he would raise Scarlett's daughter to be everything she could never be. A lady with grace and manners.

Then again she certainly seemed angry, angry about that he had planted another babe in her or perhaps it was just anger that he had not immediately fallen for her ploy. His wife was devious, perhaps she had panicked when he had threatened divorce, knowing no settlement he would give her would keep her in as well. His wife would do anything for money, even have a baby, Ella was proof of that.

She could have found someone aside from the pale haired Ashley to father her child. She could have found a dark haired gentleman to accomplish the task. His wife had certainly sold her body before for money. She had given it over to Frank Kennedy. She would have sold it to him as well then if only he'd been willing to marry her. He should have married her while she was weak. It had been foolish of him to think he'd get that stubborn woman any other way.

He could have married her then and she would have been grateful. He could have kept getting her with children until that trim waistline of hers disappeared and her dream of Ashley Wilkes disappeared with it.

Then he wouldn't be trapped in his room, hiding from his wife. Hiding from the thought that he wanted to throw her down the stairs for doing this to him.

The faint thought remained, perhaps it was his child. Scarlett was still young, she had turned 26 mere weeks before Ashley's birthday. There were certainly enough children born from thinking once couldn't possibly be enough.

She had been faithful to him before; he had been near certain of it. It would only be if the baby came late then he would be forced to figure out its paternity. Unless the baby came on time and was small, women could certainly force themselves into labor just as surely as they could force a pregnancy to end.

Oh he would coddle her at the end. He would make sure she were never without servants loyal to him. He would watch her every move.

He stopped and composed himself seconds before he almost flung open his door. He calmly exited his room, he took the main staircase so he wouldn't pass the nursery. Bid Pork a good day, informed him he would be home for a late supper and headed out of the house.

o-o-o-o

The house was quiet when he returned. A few minutes past eight. He had mentally prepared himself to face Scarlett at the evening meal. He had spent the afternoon fortifying himself with arguments and alcohol.

However, Pork informed him that she had taken the light meal at 6 with the children. The children, who were now being readied for bed and Scarlett had retired for the evening. Rhett paused at the staircase, thinking about going up and seeing Wade and Ella. Perhaps reading them a story before bed.

He thought about how tiny Ella had been in his arms when they had married. He thought of how he had loved carrying her around the rooms that they taken at the hotel. She had been so small. Smaller than Bonnie was now. She had called him 'Ed' at the start, 'Ed ed.' He had wanted more than anything for her to flip that name around, 'De de,' Mammy had spent an entire day with her teaching her to say 'Uncle Rhett' like her brother. He had left one morning, 'Ed Ed' and returned to being 'Unc Et,' he had lost the chance of being her father in just a few hours.

He couldn't bear to spend time with Scarlett's children, they were as good as being in her company. He would see them and be reminded of everything he didn't have. Everything he would never have.

They could have had an amazing life. Only his wife only saw Ashley Wilkes. It hadn't mattered that he, Rhett had gotten her out of Atlanta, not while the brave Mr. Wilkes was off fighting. It hadn't mattered that he had joined the cause, no, the honorable Mr. Wilkes had been there from the start. It didn't matter that he had loaned her the funds for her mills, she had given one to Ashley to mismanage. He had paid for their fine house, the food, the wine, the staff, but Uncle Ashley was the favored at the supper table.

No, Rhett did not go upstairs. He proceeded to the dining room, pulling the bottle of brandy off the sideboard seeing as his daughter wasn't sharing this meal.

He went upstairs hours later, ready for a fight. Ready to fling open his wife's door or break it down if she had actually dared to lock it.

He would do it this time, just as he thought hundreds of times before. Only this time before he could change his mind, he noticed her door was open. He pushed it open slightly with just a finger.

He crept in softly as he couldn't see deep into the darkened room. He still recalled the placement of her furniture, grateful she had not thought to change it in the last two years. He had to be nearly atop of the bed to see her, sound asleep in bed, looking the mirror image of their daughter. Restful and at peace.

He was struck by the urge to crawl into her bed and hold her to him.

Instead, he turned and left.


Thanks for reading! Does anyone want to change their vote?