If not for the whispered words Tina would have heard a voice that melted in disappointment and echoed with fear.  “You wouldn’t,” she paused and found the strength to finish asking, “…come with me?”

‘I’d have to think about it.’ That’s what the younger woman said exactly. 

Tina wouldn’t go with her.  She repeated this to herself silently.  Tina wouldn’t go.  She preferred life in LA instead of a journey with her … what?  Bette thought mirthlessly, what am I to her?

“I like my life here.”  Tina reiterated with composure.  She didn’t mean to hurt her companion.  Honestly stating how things were and what she felt.

“I love my job and I’m doing really well.”

Bette nodded in agreement then conceded to this truth, “Yes you are.” 

She readily and proudly acknowledged it.  Tina’s success and unmistakable confidence flowed fluently.  Her brilliance in managing the fledgling venture with a professional and experienced hand that steadied was without question.

Truth be told Bette didn’t really expect to be offered the position.  Sure, she had been accused of lacking modesty on many occasions but in this instance the art expert did not feel the need to aggressively portray her accomplishments.  Undoubtedly she was qualified but benchmarked against a strong field of potentials, many factors were against her.  The recent firing and a ferocious quest for the provocative didn’t necessarily fit well within the context of a more established environment where even more rules and stronger politics took hold.

Being on a short list was a thrill and an ego booster but meant nothing in real terms.  Not when all she sought was to be wanted elsewhere. 

She was forcing the issue with this development like she did that night of her trip to Washington.  Where her sentiment was not reciprocated.  To again try and get a reaction and an answer.  Not an ounce of shame surfaced in this search.

And now she knew, Tina wouldn’t come. 

The back of the brunette’s eyes burned hotly.  She looked straight ahead and then upwards. This measured delay in response was enough to quell the tears that were so eager to manifest. 

She was intensely weary.  Bette was so tired of stopping these tears.  So drained of crying when no one was a witness to her cheerlessness and heartbreak.

Sitting on the edge of the bed she looked at Tina and held her gaze until the blonde’s head fell slowly.  Instead focusing on her hand that lay on the familiar comforter which dressed the bed in a warmth that was sorely absent between them.

In the late hour their quiet breaths coincided.  A shared sigh expressed the sadness that profoundly impressed upon them individually.  Often, the past held memories that bridged the lulls and hard times but today everything seemed too distant or too complicated to remember.  Today, only particular events of their recent history prominently weighed on their interaction.

It would have been so easy for the brunette to dismiss and ignore the situation yet again.  To stand, turn around and use the shield of the covers that draped her side of the bed and persuasively offered an illusion of security. 

To temporarily quiet the deafening signals that pointed to another truth. 

Tina was – they were…slipping away.

“T.” she stopped to make sure their eyes were locked.  There was melancholy in this shared gaze.  With every day that passed it was getting more difficult to remember.  The couple they had been and their connection was disappearing in the darkness of the night that surrounded them.

Tonight, while looking at the lifeless hazel eyes that must have matched her own, instead of turning away she asked the question that haunted their recent weeks and months.  With false courage she addressed Tina and sought to know if there was anything left.     

The brunette whispered, “What are we doing?”

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