Everyone will find out.
Bree knows this from experience, from having her own personal life on display for the entire town, from listening to lurid gossip about her neighbors. No matter how well a secret is kept, there's always someone to expose it. Not that she believes Lynette will tell anyone.
Lynette still has her husband and the love of her children. She has more to lose.
Bree turns over on her back as she listens to the shower run. Lynette sings badly because she knows Bree's listening. It makes Bree smile, but it's not enough to calm her. It's only a matter of time before speculation will begin over the afternoons Lynette has spent in Bree's house and the way they lock arms when they walk together. Then her life will crumble.
What life she has left.
And she can already imagine it: the conversations that end as soon as she comes into view and continue when she retreats. The decision that Lynette will have to make over her and Tom, and the only sensible conclusion. Andrew telling her what a hypocrite she is. Her being all alone, finally.
The inevitable bitter end haunts her even as Lynette returns to the bedroom. Her wet hair frames her face as she starts to get dressed. Lynette talks but Bree barely listens. It amazes her that Lynette can be so carefree; but, for all Bree knows, maybe Lynette's planned her downfall, scripted every moment of affection that resulted in the first kiss.
Or maybe God was actually paying attention for once and really wanted Bree to go to hell. Or maybe Lynette was only supposed to be a temptation, a need she was to shrug off in the name of virtue.
Or maybe there's no great plan and no terrible outcome waiting in the wings.
That scared Bree the most.
Lynette leaned in for one last kiss. For a second, Bree forgot to second-guess her life.
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