“Bette,” Tina began, still looking down at her nails. “Did you see Jenny last night, before she was found?”

Bette's face twitched and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “What are you saying, Tina?”

Tina looked up and met Bette's eyes then, her gaze steady. “Answer the question, Bette.”

“You're asking me if I... how could you ask me such a thing?”

“I don't know what's going on, Bette. You've been lying to me for weeks – weeks – because you didn't trust me. You thought I would take Jenny's word over yours. You thought I would take Angie, and leave. You assumed the worst of me. I'm just returning the favor.”

Bette shook her head. “There are some things that you don't say, Tina.”

“Yeah, and there are some things that you don't do, Bette. Like cheating.”

“I didn't do it!” Bette exploded. “I didn't!”

Tina paused, looking passively at Bette. “Is there anything else you'd like to add? Have you told me everything about this Kelly... thing?” Her tone was cool – detached, even.

“Yes. Tina, I...” Bette trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

Tina held her gaze for a moment, saying nothing, then looked away. “Right. I'm going to take a shower and get Angelica ready for the day.” She stood and went into the suite's bathroom and shut the door. After a few seconds, Bette heard the click of the lock being turned. The sound made her heart quail. Tina never locked the door. There was a long silence, then the sound of water running.

Bette stayed where she was. She was tired, exhausted. All the relief that had come from finally telling the truth had evaporated, swept away by Tina's reaction, which had been like a kick in the face. She supposed she shouldn't have expected anything different, but all the same, she had hoped for it.

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand and took some steadying breaths, trying unsuccessfully not to replay the conversation they'd just had. Then the tears came, like a faucet she couldn't turn off. She cried profusely, but in silence, slightly rocking back and forth. The pain in her heart intensified. Bette slid down the headboard and curled down under the duvet, wracked with nearly noiseless sobs. How could it have gone so wrong? She'd made a mess of things, of course; every choice she'd made seemed to have worsened the situation.

The water in the bathroom eventually stopped. Bette wiped hastily at her face and rolled over so she wasn't facing the bathroom door. She didn't want Tina to see she'd been crying.

Tina didn't say anything when she emerged but Bette could feel the steam and smell the soap. In a moment filled with déjà vu, she heard Tina rummaging through the various bags she had packed last night as she dressed. Missing, however was Tina's carefree chatter that had so filled Bette with unease. The tense silence was worse. It weighed on Bette, making her feel as though she should say something, anything, but she didn't know what to say. What she could say, bar another spate of apologies.

The rustling ceased and then Bette could hear Tina in the other room, softly rousing Angelica, talking quietly to her, sounding perfectly normal.

Bette sat up and wiped her eyes, taking the opportunity to hide in the bathroom while Tina was out of sight. She took a breath and steadied herself. She was being ridiculous. Overdramatic. She was under a strain, an intense emotional strain. That was all. She had to pull herself back from the ledge and think. Calm down. Order her thoughts. Breathe.

It would be okay. She and Tina were in love, right? Tina was angry now, hurt now, but it wouldn't last forever. It wasn't irreversible. It wasn't like death. Bette leaned over the sink and splashed her face with cold water, burying her face in a towel. She straightened up, closed her eyes, focused on her breathing. She was starting to feel more in control when there was a sharp rap at the door.

"Are you going to be long in there? Angelica is waiting."

“Just-just a minute.” Bette called. She cast a quick glance at the mirror. Her eyes weren't as bloodshot, at least. She opened the door and stepped out.

Angie looked up at her solemnly. “Hi,” she said.

Bette patted the top of Angie's fuzzy, unkempt head. “Hello, baby. Go on in.” Angie shuffled past and shut the door a little too firmly. Bette could hear Tina in the other room. She stood there, unsure of what to do. She didn't want to talk to her now, not with Angie afoot, but it felt strange not to say anything and just carry on with her morning.