Tina shook her head thinking of how nave they had been. Unfortunately, getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as her seventh grade health teacher made it seem. And what started out as a simple process became something quite different. They both ended up feeling frustrated and inadequate, and those emotions only intensified as the months wore on with no success.

“What is wrong with me?” Tina asked one morning after yet another negative pregnancy test.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Bette said gently, kissing her eyes, her hair.

“Then why isn’t this working?”

“It will. We’ll keep trying until it does.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” Tina whispered.

“Then we’ll steal a kid from the mall,” Bette said matter of factly.

They had laughed in that moment, but the humor was short lived. Without a career or a family in which to invest her considerable energy, Tina was adrift. And, unsure whether she was more afraid of actually having a baby than of never being able to conceive, Bette avoided both questions by immersing herself in work with a vengeance.

Tina walked through the house, absently touching furniture and framed photographs, trying to ground herself. Their struggle to conceive, the breakdown in communication, the lack of empathy that grew between them, the slow-motion slide into disaster. It all seemed so distant to her and yet as fresh as yesterday. She sat down in the living room, considering the conversation that she and Bette had there several days ago.

~~

“Are you?” Bette asked. “Are you really ready to let go?”

When Tina opened her eyes, two tears rolled down her cheeks. Bette sat up and took Tina’s face in her hands, kissing the tears away.

“Why are you doing this?” Tina asked, her voice barely audible.

“Because I love you. Because I’ve always loved you. But I forgot to keep showing you how much.”

“What do you want from me?”

“One chance. If you give me that, I promise I’ll never need to ask for another,” Bette said, resting her forehead against Tina’s.

~~

When she found out about Bette’s infidelity, Tina had been inconsolable. Her wounded heart had all but closed down, and as grief became anger it was easier to negate their years together, to diminish them, than to admit the full extent of what she’d lost. But over the past month, spending time with Bette, talking with her, sharing life with her again, Tina had allowed herself to remember what they’d had. And now, sitting here in their home, surrounded by the touchstones of their life, it was impossible for Tina to deny the goodness that had been. The passion. The deep love they once felt. That she still felt.

Tina looked up as the key turned in the front door lock, and watched Bette come in. Bette met Tina’s gaze, holding it as she closed the door behind her.

“I got your note,” Tina said.

“You heard the message?” Bette asked, her voice unnaturally calm.

“Yes. We need to talk.”