"Tina … this …" she pulled her hand away, suddenly worried she had hurt me. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay," I assured her, "It doesn’t hurt when you’re so gentle."

She put on her best smile and brought both of her hands together in her lap. "I hope you know that you deserve so much more than what he did to you." God, she looked so broken just saying this to me. "You know, there are so many people out there who would never hurt you. There are people who would protect you instead."

I knew she meant herself, but I tried remaining oblivious, and not to call her out on it. I smiled too, reaching out for her hand. Again, I felt the electricity – it never faded, but I was becoming accustomed to its intensity.

"I want to hurt him," she whispered with rage, but she spoke it softly as only she was capable of doing.

I sympathized with that thought, I must say. For exposing Angelica to that sort of violence, I wanted to hurt him too sometimes. Still, not the aggression that I saw she felt. And with her muscular arms and agility, I was sure she could do him more damage than I ever could. I had to smile at her protective nature over me.

"Did he ever hurt …" she whispered, nodding over toward Angelica. She would have snapped if I nodded, I’m sure, but I didn’t have to lie. He had never laid a hand on her – thankfully.

"No."

She breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh thank god."

I brought my hand up to her cheek, without stopping to wonder why I was doing it in that sentimental, loving way. She enjoyed it like I’ve never seen anyone enjoy my touch before. She loved me too. "I hope you know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for us both. I just wish that I had some way to repay you …"

Bette smiled, looking incredibly shy, and then took my hand in both of hers. Her eyes were honest as she spoke. "I hope you know that you don’t … owe me anything."

I couldn’t help the curious arch of my eyebrow, perhaps teasing her for the way she spoke to me, and the situation. I guess trauma forces a sort of humor into you, or how would you ever survive? "I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Bette." I could see my tease was a welcomed comedic relief to her as well. My laughter followed hers, and we both relaxed.

"You’re a funny girl. You know that?" I could hear the adoration in her voice as I gently pulled my shirt back down. I couldn’t believe she was older than me, but she sure spoke that way.

"I’ve never heard that one before." There was such an ease building between us. It didn’t even feel like we were flirting, but I knew that was the case. Still, I didn’t mind.

"It’s not a line," Bette smirked, unable to contain it through our teasing. I liked that she didn’t appear to be used to such flirtations, although I had no idea why. She was stunning.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you might … like me," I smiled, pulling myself up to sit. Bette touched my arm as I shifted, and I stilled under her touch.

"I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable," she said, and there was a sadness to her words. Then she pulled her hand back. "… So I won’t say much."

Immediately, she continued just as I was about to apologize for whatever judgemental expression I may have had.

"But I will say one thing …" She got up from my seat and straightened out her own shirt that she had put on after preparing the lovely snack. "… I think you’re a wonderful person, Tina. And I’d like to see you happy." She walked off with the grace that she always had about her, and I sat back in the lounge chair. Somehow I always felt a rush of energy after speaking with her.

I sat there to myself, thinking about what exactly she meant. She’d like to see me happy – couldn’t she? Maybe she didn’t know if I could be happy. I wondered then if she knew she was the only one who could make that possible.