The sun had yet to rise and Bette sat at the edge of the pool. She looked up at the sky, still dark, but with a hit of light. Had twilight always been her favorite time? She had enjoyed it when she was a photographer and had always referred to it as Sweet Light and she knew painters referred to twilight as l’heure bleue or “blue hour”.

She sat pensively and watched as the ripples of water spread as she placed her legs in the water. The pool lights illuminated the ripples and her reflection in the water. 

She looked down at the black liquid in her cup and stirred the liquid. She watched as it transformed from black to mocha. She took a sip of her coffee and practically gagged at the taste. She’ll never get used to making her own coffee again. A lone teardrop escaped from her eye and thinned as it rolled down her left cheek. It gathered at her chin, hanging on briefly and finally letting go and as if in slow motion the droplet impacted the mocha liquid and formed ripples in the cup which closely matched the ripples in the pool.

Had it been only three months since Jodi had left her? No she wasn’t going to think about the fiery artist. She was tired of thinking about the blonde. She needed to move on. If Jodi was able to continue her life without even a phone call to her then she would not think about her.

“Fuck,” Bette said to herself. Despite her promise not to think about Jodi, it’s what she was doing. Bette heard footsteps on the other side of the fence and glanced up as she saw Shane’s face pop up on the other side.

“Hi Bette,” Shane greeted her friend. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I can ask you the same think, but I already know the answer.” Shane gave her a small smile. “Want to come over and have some disgusting coffee?”

"Sure," Shane replied. Shane rounded the gate.

Bette gestured to her. "Go inside and pour yourself a cup."

Shane, with cup in hand, joined Bette at the poolside. “So, what’s up?”

“Just thinking,” Bette admitted as she swirled her legs in the water. “What did I do wrong, Shane?” Without waiting for an answer, Bette continued. “Never fall for an artist, Shane. Never. They’ll break your heart. I guarantee you.”

“Come on, Bette. You know that’s not true.” Shane sat and put an arm around Bette’s shoulder.

“I broke my own rule, Shane,” Bette sighed as she shook her head.  

“She’ll come back. Just give her time,” Shane reassured her friend.

“Fuck, Shane. How much more time does she want? It’s been over three months. You know what…I don’t care what she does anymore. I’m not waiting anymore.”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“She said she didn’t want to hear from me. Those were her last words to me before she closed the door on our life.” Bette, then and there, made up her mind the move forward. She straightened her back, feeling much better than she had earlier. Yup, she was not going to spend her life pining over Jodi Lerner. Fuck her. She’s Bette Porter, for crying out loud. She can get whatever woman she wanted. “Thanks for the talk Shane.”

“No problem, Bette, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

tbc?