Chapter 2 2

I stared at Rhett, my mind a screaming chaos.

He was about to speak, to charm me, to draw me into his web all over again.

My throat was dry, my palms sweating. The memory of his coldness, the overheard words in the hospital, Caroline's wrecked car – it was all so vivid, so fresh.

I could feel the pull, the stupid, ingrained longing to hear his voice, to see approval in his eyes.

But a stronger, fiercer emotion was rising: the chilling memory of his hatred.

The clink of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the rich scent of his cologne – it all assaulted my senses, a prelude to disaster.

The old Scarlett would have blushed and stammered.

The old Scarlett would have melted under his gaze.

The temptation was there, a poisonous whisper: Maybe this time will be different. Maybe I can make him love me.

But I remembered the coldness in his eyes during our marriage, the casual cruelty of his words about letting me die.

No. Not again. I wouldn't be his pawn. I wouldn't destroy myself for him.

This time, I would choose myself. This time, things would be different.

He's a monster, Scarlett. Remember that. He will break you.

I forced a polite, distant smile.

Before Rhett could utter his practiced lines, I spoke.

"Rhett, good to see you. Actually, I was just looking for Caroline. Have you seen her?"

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Surprise flickered in his eyes.

"Caroline?" he repeated, as if the name was foreign. "I believe she's by the terrace entrance."

"Great, thanks!" I said, a little too brightly. "I wanted to tell her how much I admire her work on the Children's Hospital charity auction. She's amazing."

My words were deliberate. I needed him to see Caroline, to focus on her.

My plan was forming, desperate and wild: get them together. Keep them together. And get myself out of their orbit entirely.

I found Caroline near the French doors leading to the terrace, looking every bit the sophisticated lawyer.

She looked surprised when I approached her, a cool, appraising glance.

"Caroline? Scarlett Hayes. We've met a few times, usually when my father drags me to these things."

"Scarlett. Yes, I remember." Her tone was neutral, but her eyes were sharp.

"I just wanted to say," I plunged on, "Rhett was just asking about you. He seemed a bit lost." A total lie, but a necessary one. "He's over by the big floral thing. You know how he gets at these events if you're not around to steer him."

Caroline's perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose a fraction. "Is that so?"

Her gaze was unnervingly direct. She wasn't buying my sudden matchmaking act.

"He specifically mentioned wanting to talk to you," I pushed, hoping I sounded convincing.

Walking away from Caroline, my heart still thudded.

Rhett. My obsession with him had been a toxic fog over my life.

What had I even seen in him? Charm that was skin deep, wealth that couldn't buy decency.

He was a black hole, sucking the life and light out of everyone who got too close.

The "love" I thought I felt was just a desperate need for validation from someone I'd put on a pedestal. A pedestal he absolutely didn't deserve. I saw that now with painful clarity.

He was a fantasy, Scarlett, and the reality was a nightmare.

I found Caroline again a little later, still looking pensive.

"Look," I said, dropping the overly bright act. "I know this is weird, me saying this. But Rhett... he really does care about you, Caroline. More than you know. More than he lets on."

She eyed me. "And why are you suddenly so invested in Rhett's feelings?"

"Because," I said, choosing my words carefully, "I've seen what happens when people don't act on what's real. And you two... you're real. Everyone in Savannah knows you're meant to be." That, at least, was a common sentiment.

"He can be a fool sometimes," I added. "A charming, infuriating fool. Maybe he just needs a nudge."

She was silent for a long moment. "He can be... difficult."

"So, be difficult back," I urged. "Go talk to him. Really talk to him."

From a discreet distance, I watched.

Caroline approached Rhett. He turned, that familiar smile appearing, but this time it seemed a little more genuine, a little less predatory as he focused on her.

They started talking. Really talking. I saw Caroline's posture soften, Rhett lean in, his attention solely on her.

A part of me, the foolish, lovesick girl, felt a pang. A tiny, stupid flicker of jealousy.

But the stronger part, the woman who had died and come back, felt a wave of profound relief.

This was it. This was how it was supposed to be. Them together. Me... somewhere else. Far away.

The soft music, the low hum of their voices, the way the chandelier light caught Caroline's hair. It felt... right.

But the relief was quickly followed by a tsunami of emotion.

The gala, the music, Rhett's face – it all brought back the humiliation, the pain, the operating room.

My hands started to shake. My breath came in ragged gasps.

The memory of the cold, sterile clinic, the doctor's pitying eyes, Rhett's cruel dismissal – it was like living it all over again.

I had died. And it was his fault. His cold, calculating indifference had killed me.

The grief for my lost life, my lost self, my lost child (even though there was no child in this timeline, the phantom agony of its loss from the other life was real), hit me with full force.

The champagne tasted like ash in my mouth. The beautiful gowns looked like shrouds.

I stumbled out onto the terrace, desperate for air, for escape.

The cool night air hit my face, a small mercy.

Leaning against the balustrade, I took deep, shaky breaths.

I'd done it. I'd changed the first, critical step. Rhett and Caroline were talking. There would be no staged mugging, no passionate mistake, no car crash, no loveless marriage, no IVF, no death.

Not for me. Not this time.

A small, fragile kernel of hope began to bloom in my chest. I was free. Or at least, I had taken the first step towards freedom.

The city lights of Savannah spread out below, distant and sparkling, a world of possibility I hadn't seen before.

My phone buzzed in my clutch.

It was Bree. My rock. My no-nonsense best friend.

"Hey, girl," her voice, warm and familiar, was a balm to my frayed nerves. "You survive the fancy-pants party?"

"Barely," I managed a weak laugh. "Listen, Bree... I need to talk to you. Like, really talk."

"I figured. You sounded weird earlier. What's up? Did Rhett finally make a move, and you realized he's actually a human-shaped pile of expensive garbage?" Bree never minced words about Rhett.

"Something like that," I said. "Actually, Bree... I think I need to get out of Savannah. For good."

There was a pause. Then, "Took you long enough. I've got a cousin in Austin looking for a roommate. Just say the word."

Austin. Far away. A new city. A new life. It sounded like salvation.