“Hey.”

“Hey,” I said and Jackson ran to me.

“Bette,” he shouted excitedly and hugged me, “look what mom got.”

“That’s very cool buddy,” I said after he thrust a sketch pad and some color pencils at me, “you like to draw?”

“Yes! I love to draw! Horses, dinosaurs, birds,” he exclaims. For a three year old, his vocabulary and speech is very clear.

“Hey Jack, let’s show Kit. She wants to play and make you something to eat.”

“Yay,” he exclaims and runs to Kit’s office.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Tina says, smiling and walks away. I start putting my books and papers away, and I order another coffee. As I take a sip, Tina sits across from me; I had chosen a booth in the back to have our conversation. No one needed to know our business and it kept us from prying eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, after a moment of silence.

“For what?”

“For taking advantage of you when I knew you had been drinking. It was inappropriate and wrong.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” she said and I looked at her sideways, “you didn’t. We didn’t have sex and I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I enjoyed the kiss, and I really enjoyed waking in your arms.”

“Wait, what,” I asked not believing what I was hearing.

“I’m sorry I ran. I freaked out. I had never felt like that before.”

“Felt like what?”

“Blissfully happy.”

“Happy,” I said, not wanting to sound overzealous.

“Yes. When I got home, I cleaned the house, cooked and waited for Eric to get home. He got home, and didn’t notice the clean house, and sat in his chair and turned the tv on. He didn’t greet me like he always had before Jackson was born, he didn’t kiss me. I greeted him, told him I made him a nice dinner and I got an ‘ok thanks’ and that was it. He doesn’t desire me anymore. Last weekend I made an attempt to see if I was in anyway desired by taking him on a little vacation, just the two of us. All he did was sit and read. When we had sex, there was no passion, no chemistry. He didn’t cuddle me like he used to, he hardly tells me he loves me anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

“I think he’s fallen out of love with me,” she said and tears started rolling down her cheeks. I get up and sit next to her, and I wrap my arms around her as she cries.

“It’s ok sweetie, I’m sure he still loves you,” I assure her, my heart aching.

“The thing is,” she said sitting back, looking at me, “I don’t think I’d mind if he didn’t.”

“What?”

“I had always been attracted to women, but I never thought about pursuing them, until I met you. When I first saw you, you ignited a fire in me that had burnt out long ago. When you look at me, I can feel how much you want and desire me.”

She stopped talking and looked at me. I never knew she felt this way, I had dreamed this day would come. That she would finally see me the way I see her. My heart was filled with joy in that moment and I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, to tell her that I would spend every waking moment of everyday proving to her that I would always love and desire her. She looked at me, waiting for a response; the only response I had for her was to brush her hair from her face and run my hands through her blonde locks and pull her into a kiss. A kiss that sent sparks flying everywhere. A kiss to let her know that with me, there was no doubt that I would ever fall out of love with her.