She can’t. 

At first, she didn’t, because it was embarrassing to be so attached to the place that felt like her own Pompeii, the place where she was her best, the highest she’d ever been, and the same place where she lost it all.

Then she couldn’t, because she could see her own present crumbling beneath her feet, and it felt like the memories were the only thing keeping her alive.

For a while, she thinks Hollywood remembers her too. She keeps seeing flashes of her life, and she still feels them with her. She thinks West Hollywood remembers her, too, until Tina Kennard doesn’t, and then it feels like nothing remembers her.

From that point on, Hollywood hides from her. It hides from her as Tina hides from her calls, her emails, and her thoughts. It hides from her as her hopes seem to have hidden in the deepest parts of her belly, leaving her dark and tired.  

She misses Hollywood, but Hollywood doesn’t miss her. Just like she misses Tina, but she doesn’t miss her back. 

She doesn’t cry when Tina leaves. It takes her three days to get her emotions under control. But on the fourth day, she cries so hard and for so long that it feels like nothing could ever bring her joy again. She doesn’t cry again for a long time. Crying has never solved anything for her, so she runs. She runs faster than ever, as fast as she can, without really leaving anything behind.

She never truly wanted to leave. She was always just waiting for Tina to ask her to stay.

She despises her luck, but it doesn’t surprise her that this is the moment when her wedding ring decides to make an appearance. The nights have always been the hardest for her. She hasn’t slept well in months, her mind is still painfully active, stuck on Tina. On Tina’s marriage. On having held her in her arms just a few years ago and now having lost her again. Logically, she knows that Tina is not really hers to lose, not anymore. But now that it’s all over, she realizes that a part of her always knew she would lose Tina. That she was destined to lose her.

But that didn’t make it any less painful. Because in the end…she lost her wife and it steals the breath from her lungs and suddenly she feels exactly her age. The grief settles over her like nothing ever has before. She’s not really fit for polite or rude company anymore, but she can’t shut herself away, no matter how much she wants to, she has Angie, and she would be strong for her.

But it feels like time is passing without her, and everyone out there is living their lives, crying, laughing, going to the pub, selfish and unconcerned with the grief of mayoral candidate Bette Porter. 

She wasted every moment with her wife, not realizing how precious every second was until her time was up. She should have been better, more. But she wasn’t and there was nothing for her to do but sit outside what used to be their bedroom, choking on regret as she stared into the space where they once lived and loved together. 

The terrible part is that the universe does not care, the universe is not concerned with her grief, and has the audacity to move on.

She’s so angry at herself. She’s angry at the world. And her eyes are glued to the small golden object that used to give her hope.

She grips the small wedding band in her hands and a movement in the living room catches her attention. A flash of golden hair takes her breath away. 

She had forgotten. God, she had been living on autopilot for so long that she had somehow forgotten. She hadn’t really realized what the last few days had meant. 

Maybe Tina was still hers to lose. Maybe she was still someone to build hope and happiness on. 

Maybe if the house with the pool could not be, they could still have an apartment with a view.