She stood outside of Alice’s apartment, unsure of what to do next. Bette tried to decide whether she should ring the door bell, or find the key she knew was screwed behind the kick plate of Alice’s front door.

She paced.

Finally, she made her decision, and squatted down to see if she could remember which side the key was on. Bette found it, and used one of her own keys to unscrew the kick plate on one side. The key dropped to the concrete floor with a small ping.

Picking it up, she noticed her hands were a little shaky.

As she opened the front door she held her breath slightly. This would be the first time she’d seen Tina since that night. She remembered it all too well and it made her chest tighten. The look on Tina’s face, the sting left behind by her slap. Begging her to calm down; trying to tell her she loved her, and finally the strangled cry from Tinas throat as she came, the tears never stopping.

She looked down the hallway leading to Alice’s living room–it was empty.

For a moment she realized all of this nervousness could be for nothing. What if Tina wasn’t even here?

It was that moment that the kitchen door swung open. “Alice? I thought you were…”

There she was.

Tina looked at Bette. Quickly, her eyes dropped to the floor and she turned around going back through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“Tina…” Bette walked into the kitchen after her.

“No, Bette. No.” Tina walked back to the kitchen counter where she’d stood before hearing the door. From the looks of it, she was making a sandwich.

Bette couldn’t say anything, she just stood there.

Tina started talking, staring at the cabinets, her sandwich forgotten.

“I can’t see you yet, Her voiced stammered. “I can’t talk to you yet without crying, Bette,” A small hitch in her voice escaped. “And you don’t deserve to see me cry right now.”

“Tina, please. Please, let me explain…” Bette crossed the small kitchen and stood right behind Tina, their bodies almost touching. She rested her forehead on the back of Tinas head. Bette’s hands gripped both of her biceps. Not hard. But as if she was trying to hold on.