An incredible wave of fresh guilt broke over her. The kind of culpability she hadn’t felt in a while. She felt as though she’d cheated all over again and unshed tears colonised her eyes.

“Bette, are you ok?” Tina whispered softly, face full of alarm. Her concern only increased Bette’s feeling of fault.

With all the regret drenching her insides with bitter self-abhorrence, all she could manage was a nod. She did not instantly open her mouth for fear of vomiting. A sense of dread crept over her and she mumbled a feeble excuse as she exited the room.

On her own, in the sanctuary of her quiet room, she let out the burgeoning sorrow. She sank to the floor, with her back against the bed and dropped her head into the ready hands. Cradling her own mind, she felt as though she were holding her actual thoughts and it gave her enough calm to assess the questions and doubts that had appeared so suddenly.

She berated herself for believing it would be easy. To allow herself the hope that the admissions would come naturally.

She again came to the question that plagued her very soul: Would Tina even care anymore? Bette fretted over the answer her mind might provide her with. She wished with every strand that the answer might be yes. Bette’s attention flew back to an early morning a few years previously.

Bette was lying on her side, her back to the person sharing the bed. As she rested her head on the uncomfortable pillow, she felt lips roughly grazing her shoulder. She felt no shivers, no tingles or shocks of arousal. Aside from the resentment bubbling in the pit of her stomach, she was completely numb to the gesture.

Hands began turning her over but she stayed rigid; defiant against their strength.

“Not now” she stated but the hands continued to intrude on her body.

“No, Candace” she reiterated with added vehemence. She felt the annoyance rising rapidly. The breath on her ear turned her stomach and an irritated frown took root on her face.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” she heard behind her. Fury erupted and she scoffed incredulously before shaking off the covers and skulking to the bathroom, picking up her discarded clothes on the way. She returned a few moments later, washed and dressed with the same scowl.

Candace stood from the bed and crossed the room to confront her. Bette did not step down but rather walked around her and out the door. The half-dressed carpenter followed.

“Where are you going?” she yelled.

“Home” Bette said, simply. Turning to face the woman she’d slept with on several occasions, she wondered how she could have ever betrayed the woman she adored.

“To her?” Candace scoffed, “To the woman who pushed you into my arms? Do you never wonder why it was she couldn’t please you? Why you had to chase it elsewhere?”

“How dare you?” Bette’s eyes flashed, “That woman pleased me for seven years in more ways than you can imagine. She would’ve continued pleasing me had I not been so weak. You’re not a tenth of the woman she is!”

Bette was fuming; her chest heaving and jaw set. She knew that she was lashing out at Candace but she didn’t care. They were both to blame and Bette needed for her to suffer like she had been.

“So why are you here?” Candace asked, visibly hurt by Bette’s words.

“That’s a fucking good question” Bette retorted. She grabbed her keys and left the house. Within seconds she as in her car, she looked up to see her brief lover on the porch.

“That woman is the love of my life” She said indignantly, eyes filling, “She always will be.” and with that, began her drive to The Planet, where she hoped she’d find the love she’d lost.