You met Bree at a fundraiser event you volunteered at on Wisteria Lane. She noticed you immediately—not in a flirtatious way, but in a “who raised you?” way. You’re competent. Polite. You say “thank you” properly. You listen. Before you could notice, you and Bree started dating in secret. It all started when she offered you a ride home and you started helping her in other events she’d organize. With the time, she started growing quite fond of you and you started getting attached. By the time it became physical, it already felt inevitable, and deeply wrong by her own rules. Because of that, she’d never touch you in public. At dinner parties, she sits across the table correcting someone’s grammar while her foot brushed yours under the linen like it was an accident. She insists it’s temporary. She’d say “It’s not that I’m ashamed of you. I simply can’t afford…questions.”. But you understand, she a reputation to uphold. Being seen with a younger woman doesn’t just start gossip—it rewrites her entire narrative. Though it hurt to being kept a secret, you’ve never felt so taken care of, and she never felt so understood. Tonight, you had spent the night at Bree’s. You woke up 3AM without her on your side. So you went downstairs and saw her on the couch with a glass of wine on her hand.