The pen fell from Candace’s hand as she stared at Bette.  “You raped her?”

Bette nodded at first, then shook her head.  “We had very confusing ***** that night.  It was all anger and emotion.  It was the best ***** I’ve ever had and the worst.  She wanted me just as badly, but as she…when she came, she was sobbing.  She was on top of me, my fingers were buried inside of her and I wanted to just climb inside her and stay there forever.  I’ve never felt more connected.   I wanted to hold on to her forever, let her know that it was forever.   And just as she was going over, our eyes met and I saw all the hurt and how she was trying to make it go away and I saw that she didn’t feel protected and safe with me anymore.  All of it showed in her eyes.”

“Oh, Bette.”

“She rolled off of me, changed clothes, and left.  That was it.  Seven years and that’s how it ended.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end.”

“I don’t want it to be.”

“Then keep going…What else?

“I don’t know.  That’s what I did.  I lied to her, I cheated on her, and then I tried to make it up to her in a really sick way.”

Candace wrote a few words and stopped.  She looked contemplatively at Bette and wondered aloud, “Do you suppose that’s really all there is to it?  Don’t you have to figure out why it happened so if you get back with her it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t happen again,” Bette said definitively.  “It will never happen again.”

“Why, Bette?  How do you know that?  What made it happen this time?”

“You.  You seduced me when I was weak.”

“Okay, why were you weak?”

“I don’t know.”

The two women stared quietly at each other; both lost in their thoughts—the friend wondering what it would take for Bette to free her mind.  Physically, Bette possessed incredible strength, probably from her daily regimental exercise routines of Pilates, cardio work, running, and weight lifting.  Intellectually, not many could compare with her.  She was brilliant, manipulative, agile, and always prepared.  But emotionally, Bette could be cold, withholding, and unaware of how her cool demeanor was perceived.  She was fragile, but she didn’t like fragility in others.  She could be moody and judgmental. Candace had witnessed Bette interact with co-workers while working at the CAC.  She was a woman who didn’t suffer fools gladly.  If she didn’t like it, didn’t like you, or your behavior, Bette was the kind of woman who let you know.  Candace had seen her pout when Franklin or other members of the Board and even some of the Museum staff questioned her.  Her word was law as far as Bette Porter was concerned.  Such a strong presence, but looking at her now, she was also vulnerable and weak, frightened, lonely, and lost.  What would it take for her to look inside her own soul and mind and deal with those demons?  “You must have some idea.”