She walked into the house that was once Bette and Tina’s, but now that this love union didn’t exist anymore, nobody referred to these two as people who were having the best relationship, gay or straight, and it was now just a house that belonged to Bette. Upon entering, Alice closed the door and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. As soon as she could clearly see the familiar features of the furniture and art works, she walked towards the kitchen and switched on the light.
 
"Why couldn’t she leave the light on if she knew I was coming," Alice muttered to herself and yet hoped that Bette could hear her words. "Where are you?" she inquired.
 
"In here," was the answer.
 
Assuming that Bette’s voice came from the bedroom, Alice headed there and when she marched in, she saw Bette sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs under her. The room was as dark as the rest of the house, but Alice didn’t need light to see that Bette wasn’t in the best of her moods. She was clad in a black T-shirt and matching pants, which made her look even gloomier than she actually was.
 
"Are you alright?"
 
"Sure," Bette answered, not even trying to sound convincing.
 
"I guess you talked to Tina."
 
"That’s right."
 
Alice turned on the light.
 
"She’ll bring Angelica in a couple of hours, you know. Angie will be spending another weekend with Mamma B."
 
"If I wasn’t here right now, I’d probably think you’d be happy about it, thinking about the fun you and your cutie pie of a daughter are about have," Alice said, examining her feet thoroughly.
 
"I am happy," Bette forced a smile.
 
Bette looked away after she’d said that, giving Alice an opportunity to gaze at her for some time and try to guess what her friend might be thinking of. Bette stood up from the bed and went to the window, carefully watching her feet as she put them on the woolen carpet. Alice thought of something to say, something that could possibly make Bette smile at least once, something that would make her feel better about herself, but no proper words were coming to her mind, so they just stood there, burdened by the silence encompassing them.
 
Alice looked around the room. Numerous books were lying on the floor near the bed, it looked like Bette started reading all of them, but couldn’t finish any. The bed itself was unmade, a few items of clothing were lying on it, probably the ones Bette wore yesterday when she went to work. But other than that, the room was clean and tidy, probably because Bette had enough mess in her life to let it invade her cleaning habits.
 
"Bette," Alice began, "you know that I’m your friend, right? I can be dorky, I can be annoying, but I’m your friend, do you remember that?"
 
Bette turned to her and smiled sadly. "Of course, I remember that."
 
"It’s just it’s just that if you want to talk about anything, I’m here."
 
"Thanks. But you know that there’s nothing to talk about."
 
"Right. Well, I brought some food," she raised her hand showing a carton box, "I’ll go fix our plates."
 
Alice went back to the kitchen, wondering if she should let Bette be or force her to talk. Most of the time Bette preferred to keep her feelings to herself, not willing to let anyone know how she felt as if her friends didn’t know what mindwars she was going through in her head – her deep and now sad eyes and expressive body language gave out everything.
 
Alice put their plates into the microwave and was slicing bread, as she heard Bette slowly enter the kitchen.
 
"Thank you for being here, Alice."
 
"I–"
 
"I know how hard it is for you just to be around me when I’m looking so depressed and shattered and not willing to talk to you," Bette said, as she fumbled the hem of her T-shirt with her fingers. "You’ve been through a lot yourself and I must admit, I’m in awe of how you managed to handle all that."
 
"You know what?" Alice said, setting the plates on the table. "I lost one friend and I’m sure that if I lose you too, then it will be the end. I lost Dana, but it was inevitable as it turned out. I still blame myself for letting her die, but yet I know that I couldn’t have done anything. Yours is not a lethal case, but it might be if friends aren’t around you to help you out of this state."
 
"Thank you," Bette said and looked up at her friend. 
 
They both sat down and started eating the salads that Alice brought. Bette looked pensive throughout the entire meal, it was not hard to guess what she was thinking about. Alice mostly looked at her plate, throwing occasional glances at Bette, examining her serious face.
 
"Do I look miserable?" Bette inquired all of a sudden as she put her fork aside.
 
"Miserable? Do you look miserable?" Alice repeated the question, taken aback by it and yet knowing exactly where Bette was coming from. "You look sad. And probably lost. I don’t know if miserable is the right word here."
 
"I feel miserable though."
 
"It’s not hard to understand why."
 
"I don’t know whom I should blame. Should I blame myself for cheating on Tina and for making our lives a living hell? Should I blame myself for being too self-absorbed and controlling? Or should I blame Tina for going back to men? Should I blame her for wanting a stereotypically normal family for herself and our daughter? I don’t know."
 
"Bette, you don’t have to blame anybody," Alice answered, re-filling their glasses with wine. "It’s not worth it or too late. You know, I’m still into different top lists of everything – some things never change – and the other day I read an article about best love quotes."
 
"Alice, some things definitely never change," Bette chuckled and genuinely smiled for the first time.
 
"That’s right. And so there was this quotation that I really liked, I think I’ll be paraphrasing a bit, but it was something like, "True love doesn’t have a happy ending, because true love never ends. Letting go is one way of saying I love you."
 
Bette felt a lump appear in her throat as she heard the words love and letting go.
 
"I think it’s what you should do, Bette. You have to let go. You don’t need to blame anybody for your break up, neither yourself nor Tina. Though Tina is Angelica’s only official parent, you’re still her mother too. Tina doesn’t hide her from you, she doesn’t forbid you to see her even after that crazy kidnapping nightmare. You see your daughter every weekend and sometimes during the week. You still have her."
 
"Yes, I still have her. I have my daughter. But I don’t have Tina."
 
Bette and Alice stayed in the kitchen for another hour, with Alice trying to reassure her friend that everything will be alright, that she still has her daughter, her friends, she has a new job and that the time to move on has come.
 
Alice left just minutes before Tina parked in front of Bette’s house. She went out of the car, looking exhausted from the hard week she had at the studio. Her face was very pale and dark circles around her eyes made it known that she hadn’t been sleeping well. She took a very sleepy Angelica into her arms and moved towards the house.
 
Before Tina had a chance to knock, Bette opened the door and let her in.
 

"I heard your car," Bette said quietly. "Is she sleeping?" She asked when she gently took Angelica out of Tina’s arms.