The woman didn’t look like Bette. And it didn’t look like Sidney. The woman was more curvaceous, with heavy breasts and thick thighs. Her nose button-shaped, her lips pursed and thin. The sorrow was permeable. Bette found it hard to look away from her eyes, from the water standing in them. There was pain in the way the woman held her head and in the tiny creases beneath her eyes.

“She really is an incredible artist,” Bette said aloud. Her dark brown orbs studied the strokes and technique, committing details to memory. The sorrow reminded her of how she felt without Tina. How she felt in this reality where they had never met.

She continued searching for Tina online until the laptop battery died. When at last the screen went black, Bette rubbed her eyes, realizing that it was nearly dark. She was hungry again and went inside, searching for something to tide her over. Sidney was still fast asleep on the sofa. Bette watched her for a moment before heading into the kitchen. She heated up some of the leftover lo mein in the microwave and grabbed a pair of chopsticks before walking softly back to the master bedroom.

When her belly was full she called Alice to check in, leaving out Sidney’s visit. For some reason she felt that was best. Eventually, she climbed into the bed and sleep found her quickly. She dreamed of Tina. Dreamed of holding her tightly, kissing her lips, meeting the smiling hazel eyes with her own loving gaze. Bette didn’t rise until the morning, until sun was streaming into the room. She wasn’t alone. Sidney was holding her, her arm wrapped around Bette’s waist, her breasts against Bette’s back.

Dark brown eyes shot open. Bette instinctively moved away. Her heart still belonged to Tina, no matter what reality she found herself in. As she pulled herself upright to empty her bladder, Sidney’s soft voice reached her ears. “You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you.”

Bette looked down at her. Sidney was still wearing her clothes from yesterday. “Am I normally mean to you?”

Sidney’s gaze flickered before she answered, “No….yes. Sometimes. Mostly you just seem indifferent. Empty.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bette.