"It’s over.  Whatever we had, whatever you thought it was, is gone.  And my life along with it.  Don’t call me again."  Bette spoke abruptly in halting sentences before she switched the phone off and threw it behind her where it fell onto the bed with a tiny thud.  Her hands crept up to her face and I watched as her shoulders shook with heavy sobs.

My chest was burning.  White hot shards of emotion ran rampant through my lungs, piercing them and letting the air dissipate until I was breathless.  They flickered behind my eyes while I attempted to blink away the tears of rage that coursed hotly down my cheeks.  I couldn’t tell if I was angry at her for destroying our relationship over nothing, or at myself for believing that she had pushed Candace away because she still loved me.

Loved me?  That seemed an inadequate description for what I had thought she felt.  We had never been verbally intense about our feelings, but the passion of our lovemaking underscored everything that we never said aloud.  The words were all there in the quickness of her breathing, the way she looked at me just before she came, the depth of her gaze as my fingers moved inside her and she thrust herself onto me time and time again.  To say that she merely loved me was to denigrate the real emotion I felt coursing through me every time she was near.

The emotion I still felt, as I watched her sink back onto the bed and lean forwards, her elbows resting on her legs, head shrouded behind her hands.  I wanted nothing more than to go to her, despite the hurt that throbbed in my gut.  I wanted to touch her, hold her, tell her that I needed her.

But I didn’t.  I remained where I was, immobile and aching for her.

She lifted her head, as though she had heard something.  Slowly, she swiveled around on the bed and turned until her eyes caught sight of me, hovering in the doorway like some nervous and unwanted guest.  Her eyes widened, chocolate pools of brown glistening with tears that streaked her cheeks.  I watched as her mouth worked wordlessly, her lips trying to say my name and betraying her with their silence.  She swallowed once, her throat clenching noisily around her surprise as she struggled to blink back the tears.

I took two steps into the room, standing close to the promise of freedom that yawned in the open doorway, just in case it was needed.  Realizing my hands were shaking, I clasped them together in front of me and lifted my chin, feigning a superiority I really didn’t feel.

"You came back," she finally whispered, almost blushing as she felt my eyes upon her naked body.  Reaching down by the side of the bed, she grasped a t-shirt and pulled it on swiftly, looking away from me in shame.  My inconsequential gaze noticed that the shirt was inside out, the seam roughly running down her shoulder, the label sticking out at an awkward angle until she freed her hair from the neckline and let it fall down her back.