“What feelings?” Bette asked.

Moments before she heard Tina struggle through the uttered statement.  They were in the bedroom, talking softly about the day’s events.  Lovingly exchanging words about their daughter.  One thing they agreed on wholeheartedly. 

Everything seemed in order.  Everything seemed normal.  Then Tina asked the question. 

“Bette, do you still have doubts about us?” 

A spark of worry flashed in Bette’s eyes although it was quickly supplanted by an assured look and tone.  The worry was natural one could argue.  The niggling effects of an affair had the propensity to effect the reaction. 

Forgiven, sure.  Accepted, certainly.  Forgotten, unlikely.  But when two people loved each another a critical mistake could serve to strengthen bonds rebuilt.  

“No.  I truly don’t.”

Satisfied that her response was what her partner needed and wanted to hear Bette refocused her eyes on the ceiling as she lay on the bed.  A feeling of ease flowed through her body.  This is what she yearned for during their months apart.  Their lives back in step.  Being with each other in their home.

The stillness coming from the person on her right finally caught her attention.  Perhaps the question was posed to be echoed?  They’d been doing well involving each other in their thoughts once more.  

Turning to her side Bette supported her weight with an arm bent at the elbow, pressed into the bed they shared. 

“Are you” she hesitated slightly.  The assurance from seconds earlier on shaky ground given Tina’s reticence to her voiced answer.  “Are you having doubts about us?”

Tina trained her gaze onto Bette before letting her eyes settle on the beige comforter that dressed the bed. 

“It’s just,” she started slowly, “I keep having these feelings.”  She finished with words spoken tremulously.  Surely a sign of the burdened meaning. 

“What feelings?” Bette’s voice was laced with concern.

“About him.”  Tina admitted.

There was no doubt there wasn’t a desire to upset or wound.  No ulterior motives were inherent in the current exchange.  She wasn’t doing this out of spite.  The intense hurt was emanating from her stilted form – one you could almost inhale.  It mixed now with the penetrating hurt that welled up inside the woman close to her.