While her journal was primarily for her own use, as an exercise, Bette knew that it might be a useful way to share herself with Tina, as well. She could ask Tina to read certain entries as a way to share her thoughts and feelings in a less scary way than conversation.

Her plan formulated, Bette resolved to put it into action right away. Tina may be off deciding to dump Bette once and for all (her fears couldnt help but center on this possibility), but in the meantime she would do everything in her power to make the changes she needed to make in order to be the person Tina deserved and would want in her life.

So she called James and told him that she was extending her planned time off through the rest of the week. She certainly deserved the break after all the work she put into the Provocations opening, and a few more days would not bring the CAC down around her ears. With that thought, Bette had to shake her head. She could tell she was already changing, if she was willing to skip work for an entire week. Changing for the better.

Bette ignored the messages from well-wishers and friends waiting for her on the house answering machine and her cell phone, which shed left behind on purpose. She did email Alice, reassuring her that both she and Tina were fine and just taking some time for themselves (though she left out the part about taking that time separately), so not to worry and theyd be in touch when they emerged from their cocoon. She also emailed Candace and told her that things were over between them, and not to contact her ever again. She appreciated the time theyd had together (just to sound tactful), but she had made a mistake and was committed to Tina. Hopefully that would send Candace on her way once and for all.

Having staved off the sharks (primarily Alice), Bette straightened the bedroom and changed the bed linens, trying to eradicate any traces of the confrontation of two nights before. She needed a fresh start. THEY needed a fresh start.

With her house in order (literally and hopefully figuratively), Bette spent the rest of the evening, late into the night, writing. Settling in comfortably on the bed with her laptop, she wrote of her sorrow, her hopes, her fears; she wrote whatever came to mind and anything she wanted to, without worrying about how disjointed it was coming out. She also cried her way through an entire box of kleenex. Finally, she slept.