The man stopped to lean down to rub a cheek on his companion’s forehead.  He nuzzled her nose.  They kissed tenderly.  She in turn locked her arms around his torso, pressing her lips and body into his without hesitation. 

A similar image was etched into memory.  Of him.  Of her.  In their kitchen.  Laughing.  Flirting.  Touching. 

How she looked through the clear glass panes that framed his and her togetherness and walked off in defeat.  A hopeless loneliness oozed from the skin that had become exceedingly transparent with need.  Entirely vulnerable to their relationship.

So she left.  Bette Porter turned and walked away. 

She, who seemed capable of taking on the world, had no fight left.

The pair she scrutinized at present, especially the woman, looked infinitely secure.  In his arms.  Enveloped by his frame, he surrounded her so easily.  Wrapping her in the comfort of his embrace.  Sharing a secret, they laughed again with mouths generously opened before piling into their car and driving away.

“They’re so happy.”  Bette spoke so timidly Tina had to strain to hear.  The regret for what she did and what Tina did was prevalent in her tone. 

Again the memories of recent follies and cutting realities sprung to mind.

The uncertainty between the couple.  The loss of the child they humbly desired and struggled to have.  Her own betrayal that still vexed her to no end.  Helena’s influence and involvement.  The loss of her father.  The continued lacking presence of Tina’s family. 

An abbreviated attempt at dating.  The unexpected request to come home.  Quickly thereafter a difficult delivery.  Then losing her job and the resulting financial quarrels where no one came out ahead.  The silence.  An overabundant selfishness on both sides.  Petty arguments.  The adoption debacle.  Hurtful words.  Unrealistic expectations.  Tina’s unplanned return to work while Bette refused to concede to something less than ideal.  The insistence and anger.  Peaking with an invitation that allowed Henry to forever be weaved into their history. 

Even now the sting from the unforgettable period when Tina desired someone else – not just for herself but also in effect for their daughter – was nothing short of devastatingly acute. 

The sense of loss.  The time relinquished together as a couple.  The moments surrendered as a family with Angelica.  Missing the joys and wonder at experiencing as a unit the ‘firsts’ of her young life.  What would have been unique instances for them as well.