Bree Van De Kamp didn't cry for her husband, she sobbed. She went into convulsions. Her chest racked, her heart hurt from her mourning, and her face reddened with pressure. She lay half way on the dinning room table in her own sweat and saline. The cloth that she used to polish silverware with was used to clean her runny nose. she felt paralyzed. She couldn't move and she didn't want to. Her stomach lurched after what seemed to be an eternity. She quickly ran to the restroom and emptied that afternoon's contents. The projectile regurgitation caused more sobbing. Sitting on the cool restroom floor, Bree lost the will to fight for some resemblance of perfection. She laid her dizzy head down on the perfectly clean tile and sobbed herself to sleep. There she laid, her make-up smeared and runny, her face pale, and her hair tousled. Nightmares filled her mind and whimpers escaped from her throat.
Across the street, a worried mind chased the thought of her neighbor losing her best friend. She left her children with her husband and walked across the street to the Van De Kamps. When she knocked there was no reply, so, she just entered. "Bree?" silence was the response. The neighbor walked through the house in search of her best friend. She came across an agape door that led to the restroom. When she moved the door out of the way, she was shocked to see Bree in such a disarray. She knelt down and scooped the slumbering woman into her arms and sat there cradling and rocking Bree. The whimpering woman was slowly brought to consciousness. In the instant that Bree wrapped her arms around her, Lynette realized that Rex had passed away. "I'm so sorry, honey...I'm so sorry," Lynette cooed in Bree's ear while stroking her hair. Bree began whining and whimpering again. Lynette stood up with ease and shock to how light Bree really was. She carried Bree up the stairs and to her bedroom. Bree was laid down on the bed and was quickly comforted with a warm body next to her. Bree laid quiet after a shuddering sigh, then she reached over and intertwined her fingers with lynette's. Laying there, side by side, led to thinking.
"Lynette... it was you. It always was, but... I had to make my family work. I had to make my marriage work. I needed... I needed a father figure for my children, even thought they both hate me." Lynette turned to face Bree and propped her head on one arm.
"They don't hate you, Bree. They're just confused on who to trust," Lynette brushed back a stray hair from a palled cheek. "Now, they need you more than ever."
Lynette leaned towards Bree and firmly kissed her on the forehead. Bree found solace in the warmth of Lynette's lips above her eyebrow. She inhaled the scent of warm, womanly flesh and exhaled her troubles. Bree lifted her head as Lynette was pulling away and caught her lips in a chaste kiss. When they separated, Lynette pulled Bree into a hug and laid there cuddling with her until they both entered the land of imagination.
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