Lynette sat on her living room couch, her head in her hands, eyes closed. She didn't have to see to know what was happening. She could hear the boxes and suitcases being lifted and taken outside. She could hear Porter's question to Tom of what was happening. He didn't understand. Nobody did.

When she had told Tom what she would do if he ever cheated on her, she never expected those very words to come back and bite her. But then, nobody ever does.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Lynette lifted her head and opened her eyes.

"Mom?"

Lynette turned her head. "Yes, Preston?"

"Where's Daddy going?"

Lynette sighed again. "Daddy has to go away, honey."

Preston frowned. "But Daddy doesn't work anymore."

"I know. Daddy's not going away for work. He's just going away."

Sensing that something was very wrong, Preston asked, "Will Daddy come back?"

Lynette didn't answer for a moment. "I don't think so," she said softly.

Preston quietly left his mom to her misery, and sat on the stairs with his two brothers.

"That's it," Tom announced.

Standing, Lynette turned to her husband. "Don't do this," she whispered.

Hard stone chips stared back at her. "I could have said the same thing to you, if I had known," Tom answered. He turned to the boys. "I'll see you guys soon, okay?" He knelt down and held out his arms, giving a bear hug when the three boys rushed to him. "I love you guys," Tom whispered, kissing each boy on the top of his head.

Getting back up, Tom walked to the door. He paused at the threshold. "If it hadn't meant anything," he said softly, over his shoulder to Lynette, "I wouldn't be leaving." That said, Tom walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Lynette heard the rented truck start, then the roar of the motor fade into the distance. "Tom!" she cried, crumpling onto the floor. Tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "Don't go," she whispered.

Bree watched the kiss with a sort of uncomfortable, morbid fascination. She was close enough that she could see their tongues sliding together, could hear the soft sounds of wet suction, the quiet moans.

In another part of the house, Bree heard a door open, and she slowly crept away from the bedroom door, just slightly ajar.

"Hey, Mom," Andrew said as he passed her at near the speed of light.

"Hello, Andrew," Bree greeted her son. "I left your laundry on your bed."

"Whatever," came the reply, and he was gone, into his room.

Bree took another quick peek into Danielle's room. She and the young man were still kissing, only now Danielle's shirt had migrated to the floor. Bree sighed as she headed downstairs.

Lynette tightened her fingers. She knew she was going to leave slight impressions on Bree's hips, but neither seemed to care. Their lips connected and parted, tongues snaking out to caress and explore familiar territory.

Bree moaned as Lynette lifted her thigh, pressing it into Bree's center. "God, you make me crazy," Bree whispered, leaning down to nibble on Lynette's earlobe.

"Likewise," Lynette breathed, gasping at the sensations Bree was creating in her.

"Mom?"

Bree jerked and turned her head, staring into the shocked eyes of her teenage son. "Andrew…" Bree slowly pulled away from Lynette, smoothing down her pants and rebuttoning her shirt. Lynette sat up on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest, having no idea where her own shirt was.

"I can't believe this… you're such a fucking hypocrite!" Andrew turned to leave.

"Andrew, wait!" Standing up, Bree noticed something under her foot. Lynette's shirt. She knelt and picked it up, handing it to Lynette, who quickly put it on.

Andrew shook his head. "You know, if you even try to say that it's not what it looks like…"

"That's not what I was going to say," Bree said softly.

"Um…" Lynette looked uncomfortable as both Bree and Andrew looked at her. "Maybe I should go?"

Bree's eyes were soft as they met Lynette's. "I'd really like you to stay," she implored.

Lynette didn't have to say anything to signal her acquiescence.

Bree turned back to her son. "I know how this looks, how you feel. I was so hard on you when you told me that you're gay, and now this. I know, Andrew. But you have to understand, I was just trying to protect you. I didn't want you to have to go through the pain and heartache that I did, when I was your age."

Andrew shook his head again, disgusted. "That's not your problem. And for the record? You ruined my life. So keep your fucking nose out of it from now on."

Watching Andrew leave, Bree sat down on the couch heavily. "He hates me," she said softly, eyes glassy and unfocused.

Lynette wrapped her arms around her lover. "No he doesn't," she whispered. "He's just trying to."

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