"Well, to start with, we have nothing in common."

"We share photography," Bette countered.

"Just barely," was Julia's contention, referring to Bette's more simple approach to Julia's own endorsement-worthy digital work.

"Diversity can be good," Bette replied.

"The way you and Tina were good?" Julia asked.

Bette narrowed her eyes. "This isn't about Tina."

"Bette." Julia retorted. "Tell me you're kidding."

"Jules--"

"I am never going to be everything to you." Julia blurted out. "Bette, I love you, but this is too hard."

"Which part?" Bette asked desperately. "Because being with you is easy for me. Because I want it."

"Because I make sure that it is easy." Julia corrected. "Bette, everytime we fight I fight the panic and fear that it's going to be the last time I'll see you. It doesn't take a genius to see how easy it could be for you to just walk away."

"If that were true, I wouldn't have asked you to marry me." Bette argued. "Jules. I love you."

"Maybe you do." Julia cut off Bette's sure protest. "But not the way I want you to."

"Then tell me." Bette insisted. "Don't make me guess."

"Isn't it obvious?" Julia asked softly.

Bette's confused look answered that question.

Julia took a deep breath. "The way I love you? Being with you means everything to me. Being the person you love, it's... It's the greatest feeling I've ever had. When you smile at me, spend time with me: I would do anything to have time stop and let that be forever."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is in those moments that you think I'm not looking at you."

Bette frowned. Then, cautiously, asked: "Why?"

"You'll have this look, and you'll smile, and, I don't know, I just know that I'm not the person you're thinking of."

"As you said," Bette said sharply, "you don't know that."

Julia conceded that point.

An uneasy silence descended upon the two women.

"Are you nervous?" Julia asked.

"Sure," Bette admitted. She smiled weakly. "Forever's a long time."

Julia nodded at Bette's cellphone, still in hand. "Was that Tina?"

Bette glanced at the culprit. "Yes."

"You called her."

"I needed someone to talk to."

"Kit, your friends: none of them would suffice?"

Bette shrugged.

"Why not me?"

Bette hesitated.

Julia smiled ruefully. "Want me to tell you why?"

Bette shook her head, and wondered to herself: What had she done in a previous life to warrant this kind of punishment? She was a good person, deep down, and Angelica's presence in her life had made her more than just a good citizen, she was downright outstanding. So why, why, why, was her lovelife one disaster after another? Were the repercussions of her behavior as The Bette Porter Phenomenon and the affair with Candace so far reaching that the punishment did not end with the end of her relationship with Tina?

"Bette," Julia's voice brought Bette back to the present. "Sweetie, we both know I'm not your great love. The role of the person that means everything to you has already been filled."

Bette looked at her, anger just below the surface of the unnerving calm. "Then why the hell did you say yes?"

"Because I bought the pitch."

"And, what? Decided that, hell, for laughs, you'll dump me two days before our fucking wedding?" Bette snapped.

"That's not---"

"Yes, it is!" Bette thundered. "Check the reasons why we're all here, Jules. Wedding. OURS. I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. You can't just back out on that because you suddenly decided I'm not enough for you."

"That's not what I'm saying!" Julia shot back. "Fuck, Tina was fucking right. You don't even listen, do you?"

"Leave her out of this."

"Why not?" Julia returned. "Ever since she said she wasn't coming you've gone out of your way to try and make her."

Bette glared at her, but did not say anything.