She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to the door.  Her shoulders gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, casting colors of violet and ebony onto her skin.  As she leaned forwards, cradling the telephone against her ear, I realized that I was holding my breath.  She was still so beautiful, still fatally attractive to me.  The muscles moving under her skin rippled in the light, casting shadow and shade, reflecting back onto the white bed linen that was rumpled and unkempt.  I think I loved her the most then; hated her too.  Hated the way her hair trickled down her back, whispering memories into my head and blinding me to her betrayal.  Hated the way I still wanted her.  Hated myself for feeling that want.

I was about to speak, my mouth open and dry with nerves, but I found that instead I was listening to her.  The seriousness of her tone indicated that I shouldn’t – couldn’t interrupt.  In as much as I wanted to leave and remove myself from any part of her life now, I stayed and eavesdropped, a guilty flush heating my cheeks and trembling my lip.

"No," she said, and let out a sigh that lifted her shoulders and then dropped them, defeated and sagging with the weight of things done.  "No," she said again, her voice hardening as the recipient of her denial was clearly hearing things they didn’t want to.

She listened for a moment, her free hand pushing back her hair so it streamed over her shoulder.  "Listen," she finally interjected, sitting up slightly with that determined straightening of her spine that I had come to know so well.  "You don’t know – you can never know what it’s like."

Taking a breath that was ragged and harsh, she let it out again, throwing up her hand in supplication.  "I hope you never do," she added, her voice hoarsening with a sorrow that resonated inside my own chest.

"You don’t understand," Bette was saying, leaning into the cell phone and shaking her head.  "I did something…" she trailed off and let out a mirthless laugh that was as cold as stone, "something so stupid.  You know you’re doing it; you know you’re making the biggest mistake of your life and you still do it.  And then you turn around and everything…"