Tina raked her fingers through her blonde hair. She made sure she didn’t look too frumpy, even if it was her day off. She was seeing Bette, and seeing Bette meant she had to be at her best. It took her a full year to realize that she was still in love with the incomparable Bette Porter. A whole year to realize that no man, nor woman could ever take the mocha-skinned beauty’s place in her heart. When she was around Bette, she couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t stand upright, she was completely dismantled in the presence of the most beautiful and priceless work of art she had ever witnessed. How could she be stupid enough to think that Henry could soothe her every need? How could she be selfless enough to help Bette get back with a woman who was clearly not good enough for her when Tina so desperately needed Bette?

It was no longer a want that brought her to Bette’s house this evening. It was a need. A need to see her, to smell her, to be in their home again. Side by side with the only person that ever matter in this world. It was a longing to erase all the bad memories they shared and to relive the good ones.

Bette had told Tina that she had found closer the afternoon before the mixer she and Henry held. It was already hard enough to keep her out of her mind on a day to day basis, but that mixer made it impossible. When she and Henry made love, she envisioned Bette. But she knew it wasn’t Bette, because Bette’s skin wasn’t as rough. Her touch wasn’t so careless. Her moans were more graceful. Her love was so much more fulfilling. She couldn’t classify Bette’s sex as love-making. No, it was so much more than that. It was soul-searching. Spirit-bonding. How dare she leave that for Henry?

She wanted to kick herself in the ass everytime she saw Angelica. Angelica was taking after Bette more and more everyday. Her demeanor, her smile, her manuerisms—all belonged to her Mama B. Even her stubborness in the morning was reminicent of Bette’s own. As cute and adorable it was, it was painful. It was painful to think of Bette without Tina. Her Bette without her. It was painful to see how happy Angelica was when she saw her Mama B and how happy Bette was when she saw her little Boo, her little Angel. It was painful knowing that she had denied Bette that satisfaction for a full month. And what for? Because Bette hurt her two years before and she still wanted to punish her, even after Bette had did her best to regain her trust and show her how much she loved her. How selfish could she be?

And now she was here, randomly showing up on Bette’s doorstep like some stray dog. She imbodied it. Roaming endlessly with no home. She caused it. She ran away. She ran away from the greatest love she’d ever known. And she had lost her to a woman who didn’t really care about her.

Her sweaty hand lifted, her index finger extended. She pressed the doorbell. There was no turning back now, no matter how much she wanted to run screaming.

What if she has a woman in there?

The "what ifs" drove her crazy. She had been thinking about the "what ifs" all day and, on the drive here, it was the "what ifs" that almost caused a few accident. She wanted to run, but it was too late. The door was opening and, too painfully slow for Tina, her goddess was appearing at the door.

"Hey, T. What are you doing here?"