She exhales through clenched teeth. “Joyce will contact your lawyer. Someone else will handle Mickey exchanges from now on.” Then, final and absolute. “If you ever pull this shit again, I will come after everything you own. Don’t play with me when it comes to my son ever gain. The next time, I’ll move so hard and so fast that today will look like a fucking gift.”

Bette flicks her keys; the car door swings open. “Now. Step. The fuck. Aside.”

Michelle backs away, rain plastering her hair to her face, tears mingling with the downpour. With one last, haunted look, she watches as Bette slips behind the wheel. The engine roars to life. Tires crunch gravel as the car backs out and speeds away, disappearing down the lot without a second glance.

Michelle stands there, shaking, every word still ringing in her ears—each one cutting deeper than the last….

***

The Porter Residence….

Later that night, amber candlelight quivers against the steamy glass of the bathroom window, sending golden tongues of glow dancing over the porcelain rim of their oversized clawfoot tub. Steam hangs heavy in the air, curling into little wisps above the lavender-scented water. Bette and Tina lie submerged in bubbles that cling to their skin like dewy petals.

Tina nestles between Bette’s smooth thighs, her damp hair curling in soft spirals against the nape of her neck. They both lean back, eyes closed, surrendering to the warmth. From the sleek black speaker perched on the marble countertop drifts a sultry jazz melody—a lone saxophone weaving longing notes around them.

“This feels amazing…” Tina murmurs, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal lashes heavy with contentment.

Bette’s fingertips trace lazy circles on Tina’s shoulders, each motion slow and deliberate. “It does…perfect…”

Tina’s eyes brighten as she lifts her chin, water gleaming on her skin. “So, you’re not still annoyed that I won’t switch places so you can get your head massaged?”

Bette’s rich laugh rolls through the tile-clad room, echoing softly. She tilts forward, dark curls falling over her forehead, and plants a gentle kiss where Tina’s neck meets her shoulder. “I think I’m slowly getting over it….”

After a moment, broken only by the soft splash of water against porcelain, she exhales. “I think I’m gonna sell the house.”

Tina twists, water sloshing against the tub’s edge. Her brow furrows in surprise. “What? No, baby, I’m starting to get used to the place. If that’s why—”

“It’s not just that,” Bette interrupts, her voice hushed against the small avalanche of steam. Her gaze drifts over the pale tiles, as if they hold memories she’s trying to read. “I don’t know… I just feel like Michelle will never stop treating this as hers. She pops in whenever she wants.”

A low, knowing laugh slips from Tina’s lips. “You really think she’d do that again after what you said?”

Bette shrugs, water rippling over her shoulders. “Who knows what the fuck Michelle will do? But I think it’s time for a change. I’ve been wanting something bigger anyway….”

Tina arches an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her mouth. She shifts, the tub creaking softly, and straddles Bette’s lap. Warm water cascades down their joined bodies, the slick skin pressing together in an unspoken promise. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

Bette’s eyes shine with admiration. She brushes a strand of blonde hair from Tina’s cheek, her touch feather-light. “I have my reasons,” she whispers, voice thick with longing.

Tina catches her lower lip between her teeth, desire flickering in her gaze. She breathes the words into the steam. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” Bette replies, drawing Tina closer. Their lips meet in a constellation of soft, urgent kisses, each one trailing promise along the curve of Tina’s mouth.

Their playful exploration deepens, cultivating a hunger that drowns out the saxophone’s melancholy wail. Water spills over the tub’s edge, dripping onto the heated marble floor as their sighs and moans rise to fill the candlelit sanctuary around them….