I love you.

Tina tensed up, her hand stopping its motion in mid air.

I love you.

Bette used to say it every night, just before they fell asleep. Even this last year, when they often went to bed furious with each other, Bette would always say it just before she dropped off.

Seems like this last month hadnt broken her out of the habit.

Tina felt a wave of anger wash over her, and she half considered waking Bette up and telling her exactly what she thought of her supposed love. Then she remembered what she was here for. No matter how angry she was at Bette, now wasnt the time. She couldnt do that to her.

I love you.

She leant over and placed a soft kiss on Bettes forehead, then disentangled herself from her embrace, trying to be as gentle as possible. She was still for a moment, to see if Bette had woken up, and when she saw she hadnt she quietly tiptoed from the room.

Standing in the hallway, she found her eyes drawn to the closed door of their bedroom. She didnt want to go in there. She knew that if she did shed be haunted by memories of her and Bette making love. She was hard enough standing in the hallway, remembering all the times they didnt quite make it to the bedroom, when their passion was too strong

But why wouldnt Bette go in there? Was there something in there she was trying to hide from her?

What would she want to hide from me?

Tinas eyes widened as a horrible thought struck her.

Oh God What if Candace has moved in? Maybe her stuff is in there, and Bette didnt want me to see

She had no choice now. She had to know. Shed go mad otherwise.

Hand slightly trembling, she reached out and rested her hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then turned it and opened the door quickly, stepping into the room.

What she saw, however, wasnt what she had been expecting.

The room was exactly how it had been when shed left a month ago. Her dress, torn to shreds, lay on the floor where shed dropped it. The closet doors and drawers were still flung open after shed grabbed some things leaving Bette crying on the bed

The bed.

Her eyes were drawn to their bed, taking in the rumpled bedclothes. The aftermath of their fight.

She wanted to look away, but she couldnt. Even though her heart was resisting, her feet carried her forward till she was stood at its foot. Shaking, she lightly touched the creases with her fingertips, flashes of that night speeding through her mind.

Quickly she left the room and shut the door behind her, images playing through her head like a video clip on loop. Now she understood why Bette was living out of the spare room.

That memory is enough to drive any person insane.

Wiping away the tears she hadnt even realised were there, she went downstairs, seeing the house properly for the first time since shed got there. It looked so familiar, she could walk through blindfold and not bump into anything, but it looked so strange. Empty, like the people living there had just upped and left one day.

Well, one of them had. The other, it seemed, wasnt really looking after the house – or herself – very well. The garden plants were wilted and dying, thirsty and crowded by the weeds that had sprung up. The bins in the kitchen overflowed with take out cartons, the fridge and cupboards were bare. There was a collection of empty Jack Daniels bottles by the back door, which surprised her. Bette never really drank it, said that no matter how much she loved the taste, it got her too drunk for her liking.

Which, she supposed, must have been the point this last month.

Frowning, Tina opened the alcohol cabinet and found a half full bottle, and two unopened bottles. Shaking her head at the extent of Bettes demise, she poured all of it down the sink. It seemed Bette had become everything she hated.

She set the bottles down and wandered into the living room, running her hands over the shelves and books, until she got to their photo albums. She pulled out the one from a few years ago, when the whole gang had gone to San Fransisco for a week. She sat down on the sofa and began to flick through it, smiling inwardly at the memories.

There was Alice pushing Bette in the pool, then Bette getting Alice back a few hours later by pouring ice water on her back as she sunbathed. Bette and Tina standing in the garden with a sunset behind them, oblivious to Alices photographer antics as they made out. There was Kit, standing at the barbeque and threatening Bette with a spatula

Kit

Suddenly it hit her. She had been so focused on Bettes pain that she hadnt quite taken it all in. Kit was dead.

Kit, who had been like a sister to her for these past seven years. Kit, who had always made sure she was safe and kept her from loneliness when Bette went away on business. Kit, who had always sent Bette back to her after theyd argued.

She was gone. Dead. Never coming back.

She let the phone album fall from her fingers as she started to cry. Crying for the loss of her friend, the nature of her death. She felt so guilty; they had been so wrapped up in their own problems lately that she hadnt even realised Kit was slowly slipping, succumbing to her craving for alcohol. That thought made her cry even harder.