Chapter 4 4

Over the next few weeks, snippets of Rhett and Caroline reached me, mostly through my father who was still deep in Rhett's social and business circle.

"Rhett and Caroline were at the yacht club fundraiser," Dad would mention. "They looked very cozy. He bought her that ridiculous diamond necklace."

Each mention was a small confirmation. My plan, or rather, my desperate course correction, was working.

He was focusing on Caroline, as he should have all along.

I listened, offered noncommittal "that's nice," and continued packing my life into boxes.

I felt strangely detached, an observer of a life I had narrowly escaped.

Dad also mentioned how Rhett's usual circle, the Savannah elite who had always been vaguely aware of my quiet existence, were now fawning over Caroline more than ever.

"Old Mrs. Astorby cornered Caroline for an hour talking about her lineage," he chuckled. "They're treating her like royalty again."

Before, there was always an undercurrent, a question mark about Rhett and Caroline because of his occasional, fleeting attention towards me. Now, it seemed, the path was clear for her.

Good, I thought. Let her have the spotlight, the scrutiny, the gilded cage. I wanted no part of it.

Then came the inevitable. "They're setting a date," Dad announced one evening over our strained dinner. "Rhett and Caroline. For the wedding. Sometime in the spring, I hear."

I nodded, pushing peas around my plate. "That's fast."

"Well, they've known each other forever. It's about time," Dad said, oblivious to the turmoil I was hiding. "It'll be the wedding of the year."

My exclusion was cemented. And I couldn't be happier about it.

The next day, my father approached me, his expression unusually grave.

"Scarlett," he began, looking uncomfortable. "Rhett and I had a talk."

Here it comes, I thought.

"He's... well, he's concerned about you. With the wedding coming up, and your past... feelings for him... he thinks it might be awkward. For everyone. If you're still around."

I felt a flash of anger, quickly suppressed. Of course Rhett would frame it as his concern for my feelings.

"He thinks it would be best," Dad continued, avoiding my eyes, "if perhaps you considered a... change of scenery. For a while."

This was my opening.

"Actually, Dad," I said, pulling an envelope from my bag. "I was going to tell you tonight. I've already made plans."

I handed him my plane ticket to Austin and a copy of the lease agreement Bree's cousin had sent.

"I'm moving to Austin. I've got a place, and Bree's cousin is helping me look for freelance work. I leave next week."

My father stared at the documents, stunned. "Austin? But... why didn't you say anything?"

"It all happened pretty fast," I lied smoothly. "It's a great opportunity."

His face registered a mixture of surprise, relief, and a touch of hurt that I hadn't confided in him.

As my father was still processing the news in the living room, Rhett showed up at my apartment again. I had a feeling this wasn't a coincidence.

He must have been waiting for my father to "deliver the news" and then gauge my reaction.

I was in the hallway, on the phone with Bree, confirming last-minute details, when I heard Dad let him in. I quickly ended the call.

I emerged to see Rhett with my father. He'd clearly overheard Dad saying something like, "She's already decided to leave, Rhett! Took it surprisingly well, already has a ticket to Austin!"

Rhett's expression was complex. Surprise, yes, but also a strange, almost possessive glint.

He probably thought his "suggestion" via my father had prompted this. Or that I was running away because of him, still heartbroken.

"Scarlett," Rhett said, his voice softer than usual. "Your father just told me your plans. Austin is a big move."

He stepped towards me. "If you need anything... financial support to get you settled, connections... I want you to know I'm still here for you. Despite... everything."

Was he trying to be kind? Or was this another form of control? A way to keep me indebted, tethered to him even from afar?

His upcoming marriage to Caroline seemed to grant him a magnanimous air, as if he could now afford to be generous to the girl he was leaving behind.

"Thank you, Rhett," I said coolly. "But I'll be fine. Bree's family is there."

Just then, the door opened again. It was Caroline.

She'd clearly arranged to meet Rhett here, or perhaps followed him. Her timing was impeccable.

Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, took in the scene: me, Rhett looking solicitous, my father looking flustered.

A frown touched her perfectly made-up face as she heard Rhett's offer of support.

"Still here for her, Rhett?" Caroline's voice was smooth as silk, but with an edge of steel. "How... generous of you. Considering Scarlett is so eager to flee Savannah just as we're announcing our wedding."

Her implication was clear: she thought I was running away dramatically, making a statement. Or worse, that Rhett was still somehow entangled with me.

Her gaze lingered on Rhett, then dismissed me.

The air in my small apartment crackled with unspoken accusations and suspicions.

Rhett looked caught, Caroline looked like a queen surveying a minor provincial squabble, and my father just looked like he wanted to disappear.

I couldn't take it anymore. This was exactly the kind of drama I was trying to escape.

"If you'll all excuse me," I said, my voice tight. "I have a lot of packing to do."

I grabbed my purse and keys. "I'm going out."

I practically fled my own apartment, leaving them to sort out their tangled mess.

Walking quickly down the Savannah streets, the Spanish moss swaying like ghostly curtains above me, I felt a surge of desperate resolve.

Rhett's offer of "help," Caroline's possessive glare – they were trying to pull me back into their toxic orbit, even as I was halfway out the door.

They couldn't stand the idea of me simply walking away, indifferent to their machinations.

My flight was in three days. It couldn't come soon enough. I needed to be gone before they found another way to complicate my escape, before Caroline decided I was some kind of threat to her perfect future with Rhett.

They're like quicksand, I thought. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink. I just need to get out.