In their new situation, Bette felt like Tina was controlling the narrative. The change in dynamic pained Bette, because as much as she brimmed with renewed pride and fascination to see Tina calling the shots in her life, it saddened her to now understand that she couldn’t do that while in a relationship with Bette.

But now, Tina’s behaviour was escalating – sending a photo like that was surely outside of the rulebook. These stolen moments were temporary, and both guilt and reality were quick to set in during every late night that Bette traveled home from that hotel. Not that Bette didn’t hold responsibility for her own actions. Not that she could stop herself even when she tried.

Bette straightened herself up, and walked confidently out of the restroom back through to the party which was in full swing at this point. She figured she had only left the group for around fifteen minutes, but she felt her world had shifted in that time. Between the prickle of guilt and the overwhelming thrill of that photo landing in her hand, the thrill had definitely won judging by the gentle pulsing between her legs.

Bette spotted Alice around a table doing shots with Nat, Shane nearby laughing and shaking head. She glanced around and saw Nicole walking back from the bar, beautifully backlit by the afterglow of the setting sun. Her date had two martinis in hand and lifted her chin in greeting at Bette. Smiling, Nicole handed over one of the drinks which Bette took gratefully.

”The bartender made an exception,” she said, putting a light hand on Bette’s hip. ”Sorry – the mixologist,” she chuckled.

Bette smiled, and thanked her. Casting her eyes over Nicole in the fading light, Bette considered that she really was beautiful. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose, and full lips that Bette had enjoyed kissing in a perfunctory way. Not dazzling, but satisfying all the same. Nicole pulled Bette in closer, nuzzled her nose on Bette’s cheek.

”Are you coming home with me tonight?” she asked, planting a light kiss on Bette’s jaw.

Bette didn’t hesitate. She craved the distraction, and for the chance to feel like she was someone else tonight. Bette pulled the stick of olives from her drink and gulped the martini in two sips.