Bette and Tina lay on the bed in a heap. Tina, sobbing, lay atop Bette, in the same position where she fell. Bette clutched Tina to her, stroking her hair. Bette had always loved Tina's hair. It's silky golden strands were just like Tina: beautiful, soft and warm, yet deceptively strong.

Tina's sobs began to lesson as she cried herself out. Bette's guilt seared through her with each sob. The bite marks on her face and body throbbed in time with Tina's sobs. That's okay. I deserved that, she thought. I deserved all of that.

At the same time, oddly, she felt relief. The inevitable had happened, and Tina had found her out. Now that the other shoe had dropped, Bette felt as though a great weight was off. No more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more lies.

And Tina was still with her. Deeply hurt. No, Bette, she thought, be honest. No more lies. She's devastated. You did this. You promised you'd always protect her, take care of her, love her. You did this, asshole. Now how are you gonna fix this, smart guy, huh?

This is so truly fucked up. How did we get here? Never once did I ever think we would end up here. I was so sure I never could...that I never would...Fuck. But Tina's still here. We can work this out. I know we can. We have to.

As Bette lay there, imagining a light at the end of the dark tunnel she'd been in for months, Tina began to stir. She abruptly sat up, straddling Bette. Bette lay quietly underneath her, waiting to see what Tina would do next. Tina reached over to the nightstand and grabbed some tissues.

They were both silent as Tina wiped the tears from her face, blew her nose, and then tossed the tissue into the trash.

"Hey, basket! Two points!" Bette tried to joke. Tina stopped dead and just stared at her. Bette started to speak again, but after a good look at the expression on Tina's face quickly decided that silence was the better part of valor.

Tina cocked her head to one side as she studied Bette's face intently. Bette watched her expression change, from seriously pissed, to something else, something Bette had never seen before. Almost neutral, detached. She studied Bette as though Bette were an ameoba on a slide. A cold chill ran down Bette's back. Instinctively, Bette knew this was much worse than screaming, fighting Tina.

Still studying Bette like a science exhibit, Tina reached out and stroked Bette's face. There was no warmth in the touch, and Bette, uncertain, lay frozen until Tina's fingers brushed the bite mark on her cheek. Bette couldn't help a small gasp as Tina touched the throbbing sore. Tina's expression changed again, shame and revulsion chasing across her expressive face.

"T, it's okay," Bette tried to soothe her. She reached a hand up towards Tina's face. Tina grabbed her hand before it reached her. Her face twisted again, into angry lines.

"Don't you fucking touch me, Bette," Tina said, low and angry.

Bette froze again, suffering mental whiplash from Tina's lightening mood changes. Don't touch you, Bette thought. But we just...and you're sitting on me, for God's sake!

Tina continued to hold Bette's hand up, studying it as she had just studied Bette's face. She began to speak, her tone once more cool, and detached. "I've always loved your hands. From the first time I saw you. These beautiful strong hands. I loved having you touch me. I loved having this hand deep inside me."

Her voice began to rise in fury. "So tell me, Bette, how many times did your hands touch Candace? Were you fucking her with this hand?"

"T..."

"Don't you "T" me! Just shut up, Bette, shut up!" Tina stopped shouting, and stared down at Bette, gripping her hand hard. Suddenly she flung Bette's hand aside, and roughly got off Bette, and the bed, stripping off the remains of her torn dress. She stood naked but for her boots, and stormed towards the doorway.

Bette began to get out of bed, but Tina said, "Don't you fucking dare," and continued out the door.

Bette sat back down on the bed, and waited. Tina was banging around in the kitchen. Bette, totally confused, strained to hear what Tina was doing. Okay, that's the freezer door slamming. A loud grinding noise announced Tina was using the blender. What the fuck, Bette thought. Margaritas? Now? Bette's mind short-circuited at the thought of Tina, naked and enraged, taking time out of their fight to make a margarita. That can't be it. Can it? Totally at sea, Bette waited.

The blender shut off. A cabinet door banged. Some softer sounds, then Tina's footsteps came back down the hall, angrily ringing on the hardwood floors. Hurricane Tina stormed back in the room and up to Bette, carrying a zip lock bag of crushed ice and a towel.

"Here. Put this on that bruise, or it'll swell," Tina said brusquely. She moved over to the window seat and began to take off her boots.

Bette looked down at the towel and the ice bag in her hands. Her eyes began to tear with gratitude. It was going to be okay. As angry as she was, Tina still loved her. She still cared. She swallowed hard, and blinked back the tears. Clearing her throat, she said, "Thanks, T." As she began to wrap the ice bag in the towel and apply it to her face, she fumbled for the words to make things right. "I don't deserve this and I really appreciate..."

Her voice trailed off as she realized the soft sounds that she heard were Tina getting dressed to go out. She watched, stunned, as Tina grabbed a bag and started stuffing clothes into it.

Bette leapt to her feet. "T, what are you doing?"

"Candace must have really fucked your brains out, Bette. You've never been stupid before."

"Now just a damn..."

"I'm leaving you, what does it look like?"

"Leaving! But..."

"You didn't think I was going to stay with you, did you? After what you did? You obviously don't need me. Run along to your new girl, and leave me the fuck alone!"

"Tina, I swear, she meant nothing to me! It was just...a compulsion! I couldn't help myself."

"You couldn't help yourself? YOU? Little miss self-control?"

Bette licked her lips nervously. "Please, Tina, let me explain."

"Save your explanations, Bette, for someone who cares. I don't want to hear them." Tina slammed a drawer shut.

"Tina, I promise..."

Tina whirled around on Bette. "Don't you dare promise. Don't you dare fuck her one minute then turn around and make promises to me." Tina began to fumble with her ring. "When you were fucking me just now, were you thinking of her? Were you wishing it was her you were fucking?

Bette stared at Tina, aghast. "God, no! NO! Tina, I swear..."

"I don't believe you, Bette. I've heard your promises before." Her commitment ring finally slipped off her finger, for the first time in seven years. She whipped the ring at Bette. The ring bounced off of Bette's chest and clattered to the floor. "You've sworn to me before. Didn't mean much, did it."

"T, it meant everything."

"Everything my ass!" Tina crossed her arms defensively. "So Bette, how big a fool am I? Is this the first time, or do you have a new chippie with every gallery exhibition?" She angrily swiped at the tears flowing down her face. "How many, Bette? How many have there been?"

Bette's hackles rose up at that, her spine snapping up straight. Her eyes spat fire as she said, "Of course it was the first time, Tina. How could you even think such a thing of me?"

"How could I? How could I?" She laughed bitterly. "How could I not, Bette?"

Bette stood, speechless. They stood across the room, staring at each other, breathing hard.

"You want me to trust you? Start telling me the truth. The truth, Bette. Or so help me God, I'll never speak to you again. Got it?"

Bette nodded. "Got it."

"So, do you still stick to this 'compulsion' story?"

"Yes! Tina, it was just sex. Nothing more."

"Funny, I can remember a time when you turned to me for sex."

"Tina, let me explain..."

Tina flung up a hand. "I'm not interested in your rationalizations, Bette. Do you love her?"

"God, no! Never not for one minute. Tina, you've got to believe me." Bette grew increasingly desperate as she realized how completely Tina's trust in her was broken.

"Do you still love me, at all."

Bette tried to put all of her feelings into her voice. "Tina, I never stopped loving you. Not even a little bit."

"You've got a hell of a way of showing it, Bette."

"I know. I know I fucked up, but..."

"No but's, Bette. So, this 'compulsion' of yours. Is it over? Did banging Candy get rid of it, or do you still want her?"

Bette had a sudden memory of lying on the bed at the hotel, Candace holding her down. She dropped her gaze, unable to look Tina in the eyes.

"Well, there's my answer. At least your face is honest."

"Tina, I swear, it will never happen again. It's just an urge, I can fight it."

"Fuck you, Bette! Fuck you! I'm not going to be your second best! As long as you want her, I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you. I'm not going to wonder if you're thinking of her when you're with me. I'm not going to wonder if you're fantasizing about her when we make love. And I'm sure as hell not going to take Candace's sloppy seconds. It's not going to happen, Bette. You've already made me feel like shit: I'm sure as hell not going to sign up for more."

Tina finished stuffing clothes and makeup in the bag. She grabbed her purse. "I'm leaving now."

"Tina," Bette pleaded. Bette moved towards her.

"If you're smart, you'll leave me alone right now, Bette," Tina warned. "You've already done more than enough." With that, Tina turned and walked out the door.

Bette stood bereft in the wreck of her bedroom, the forgotten bag of ice melting in her hand. The front door slammed shut. The house was dead silent except the sound of water droplets sliding off the makeshift ice bag, and hitting the boards of the hardwood floor. The droplets thudded down rhythmically, like tears.