Tina wiped away a stray tear and said, "I’m more sad about Kit’s death two years ago than my own blood sister’s last week! How sad is that?"

"So you feel guilty for loving your sister-in-law who loved and cared for you more than your blood sister who condemned you before you even had a chance?" Bette challenged.

"No," Tina responded, "I feel guilty because I hate my sister."

Bette took a moment to process Tina’s response before retorting, "hate is such a strong emotion."

Tina looked at Bette and said, "Mary was a very bad person Bette. She did things to me I will never forgive her for."

"Like what?" Bette inquired.

Tina shook her head as tears spilled out of her eyes, "that’s better left in the past."

Bette nodded slowly, trying to hide her hurt at the fact that Tina didn’t want to share that painful memory with her. "I understand," Bette said as a light drizzle started to fill the light air, "some things are better left unsaid, but if you wanna talk you know my ears are all yours and my shoulder is ready to be leaned on."

Tina turned to her with a wide smile and said, "you just earned yourself some brownie points Porter."

"It’s Kennard-Porter," Bette said with a cheeky smile, "and what do those points get me?"

"Are the kids asleep? Cause I’d be happy to show you," Tina purred seductively.

Bette gulped and leaned harder against the railing of the balcony, gripping it tightly until her knuckles turned white. "They’re knocked out," Bette breathed out.

"Good," Tina whispered stepping forward and putting her hands on the button of Bette’s jeans.

Bette’s breathing picked up as Tina unbuttoned the jeans and pushed them down over her hips along with her panties.

The railing had a curtain draped over it so it obscured any view from the opposite building. If anybody would see, they would only see Bette’s upper body leaning against the railing, Tina disappearing behind the curtain as she dropped to her knees.

Bette’s chest was heaving as she threw her head back and angled her hips forward. Her head stuck out from under the protective roof, meeting the light drizzle full on. Sometimes a drizzle could wet a person more than a full fledged rain could, and soon Bette’s hair and face were completely soaked and water was dripping down her throat to her chest.