Bette’s eyes blinked open slowly as she pulled herself up into a sitting position in the bed she shared with Tina–that she had shared with Tina.  Bette glanced over at the pillow—no Tina, no dent where her head had lay.  It had been a week.  She had promised herself that she’d give Tina some time, that her partner had every right to be angry and hurt.  Bette was angry with herself, why shouldn’t Tina hate her?

It was nearly dawn, still dark outside, and West Hollywood wasn’t nearly close to waking.  It had just gone to sleep three hours earlier when the bars closed.  Bette, on the other hand had spent countless hours in bed, asleep.  Sleeping allowed her to forget her misery.  Now, her body was sore.  She had lingered in bed longer than was wise.  It had been planned that following the opening night of Provocations she’d take some much needed time off.  Bette recalled that she was going to surprise Tina with a trip to Hawaii.  Instead, Tina got another surprise from her lover of seven years.

She combed her hand through her tousled hair, then bent her knees to her chest and rested her elbows on them, her face in her hands.  Tina, I love you.  I’m sorry.  She said to no one.  Again. 

Her eyes closed and she lightly bumped her forehead against her knees.  Why hadn’t she used control?  Why had she behaved so recklessly with Tina’s heart and her own?  Of course she tried to rationalize her behavior.  Her personality told her there was a reason for everything, an explanation for every action, and life wasn’t complicated once you ordered all of the pieces, played by the rules, and played fairly.  She had done neither with Tina, with their relationship.  She knew the rules and pulled them apart.  She had done the unthinkable, something that went against everything she believed in—honesty, fidelity, a life based on commitment to another.  Betrayal.  It was a word that Bette hated.  The word was loathsome to her ear.  Betrayal.  I betrayed you.  Betrayed us.  She faced the truth.    Bette hadn’t played fairly with anyone except maybe Candace.  The one thing she had done right was not let Candace think there was anything to what they were doing but a lust and chemistry that was uncontrolled.