The one therapy session was a disaster. It was not that Bette didn’t want to talk. She did. But after the first few minutes of silence, and her trying so hard to open her mouth and say that she saw her ex-husband every day in her mind dead because of her, and the blood and the violence she saw that would be forever etched in her head…she couldn’t. It was like someone stapled her lips together. The therapist was a god woman, attractive, fresh out of school…eager to cure the world. Bette felt bad for being so uncooperative. For every question Bette shrugged her shoulders, said she was doing fine…said she was back at work. Said she was keeping herself occupied. Then the therapist asked about her relationship with Tina. If there were any changes since the “attack”. Hell yea, though Bette said everything was fine. But there were definitely changes. They talked less to each other. Bette just couldn’t think of anything to say. But she made up for that with her actions. She did the dishes, made dinner…made love to Tina…even though all she could think about were the times she slept with Pax and now that body was dead…Bette hated that part, she would concentrate on Tina’s body but it would morph into Paxton’s and it would talk…saying “MURDERER YOIU KILLED ME”. Bette was paranoid, she would call Tina all the time from work…”Just checking up T, yea im fine, just a bit bored…doing budget work” Tina was still insistent, and Bette was resistant. But she really tried hard, in other ways. In terms of sex, it took a while till she could bring herself to that arena again, about two weeks. Her neck was sore…she kept thinking that bodies were so soft, so delicate..so easily destroyed. It felt really strange and almost wrong to want to kiss one or make love to one. But guilt made her do it, and she settled down in that area….got more comfortable. It was hard to talk though, the words when they did come out, had to punch their way out of Bette’s mouth. And so she sat in front of this young woman and could not talk. But she did tell her about Paxton’s mother.

            She had called Bette at work. Bette had found herself apologizing..”Im sorry, im sorry..i really didn’t want to but I had no choice”. Paxton’s mother would curse and put curses on her, saying she now had no son, no son at all…she had to bury him. His funeral was on Sunday, Bette didn’t go. His mother made sure of that. Only 3 people went anyway, and had to push the reporters out of the way. It was in the newspapers for days. Bette was cleared, it was self-defense. But instead of facing the world she faced herself inwards, it was good this way. It was hard to make small-talk, but Tina was supportive. Work was distracting. Her father was stern but caring, he had asked her if she was ok…Bette said yes, and the matter was settled. But Kit, Christ…she was coming!? Bette was a little angry at Tina for not telling her sooner. But she could handle it. She was Bette Porter. She could handle everything. Except the nightmares. TBC