Drinking is her answer. She drinks for absolution – because oblivion is the only place she'll get that clemency.
Lynette understands, because she's been fighting the same feelings.
The bible doesn't work anymore as a source of strength so Bree has turned to alcohol. She's not proud, but it's better than the alternative – embarking on an illicit relationship with Lynette.
The bible is clear. She is clear. Wrong is wrong and right is right.
Bree thinks of Lynette's lips pressed to hers and takes another sip of Shiraz.
She thinks of Lynette's body moving against hers and finishes a bottle of Chardonnay.
For every imagined kiss, a gulp of wine awaits. It's her punishment, her cleanser.
She's spiralling. Her heart races when she tries to control it – whenever Lynette is near. She wants so badly to let go, shed her restrictions - but it's inbuilt and too much a part of her.
She's not who she thought she was. Too much uncertainty. Too much hesitancy. Rex died and she loved him, she's sure. She loves Lynette too.
They've both consumed her and there's nothing she can do to fight back. So she drinks to forget.
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