I am standing holding in my hand, still aching from the burn of the tea kettle, my cup of tea. If thats your cup of tea. As the saying goes.

Standing in my empty and lonely house, I turn to stare out the window. My eyes rest on Jenny staring back at me as if I am looking in the mirror.

How did I sink to the level that Jenny would be a reflection of myself?

I am Bette Porter: upper-middle class, Ivy League graduate, museum director. I have a lovely home tastefully decorated with exclusive art hanging on the walls. I drive a Saab. The outfit I wore today cost more than she earns in a week.

I am the picture of success.

Now I stand the equal of Jenny: failed writer, minimum wage earner with worn and holey tights, woman whose bathing schedule is sorely in question.

It was only a few months ago that I stormed into this very house in a fury of judgment over the crimes Jenny had committed. Now, I stand in this house guilty of the same crimes, betrayal, adultery, dishonesty.

Dante placed as the ultimate layer of ***** a ring of ice on the bottom. It was there that he confined those he considered the guiltiest and worst of all sinners, those who betrayed their friends. He included Judas who betrayed his friend for 30 pieces of silver. I betrayed my best friend for a few meaningless *****.

Perhaps the saddest part of this debacle that has become my life is that I cannot explain why. I tried to explain to Tina, an explanation that earned the overturning of a table. I tried to explain to Alice, an explanation that earned recrimination. I cannot offer them a better explanation for I cannot offer a better explanation to myself.

I can list multiple excuses for my behavior: mid-life crisis; the daddy blues as my sister, Kit, called it; loneliness as Tina withdrew in her depression following the miscarriage; the need to escape from the overwhelming stress of Provocations and becoming the sole wage earned in our home; the fear that I had become boring; the list goes on in perpetuity. None of these reasons justifies the risk I took with Tinas heart. None of these reasons justifies losing the only true anchor I have ever had in my life. Ive had my father and my friends, my career, but nothing has ever served as an anchor for my humanity like Tina. She took a stone cold woman and brought to her a feeling of warmth. It was Tina Kennard who opened the door to my heart and made me, for the first time in my life, feel true love.

Why did I betray Tina. Why did I risk everything for a few minutes of physical pleasure with a woman I dont even know?

That is the bottom line. I dont know.