The day had arrived. The time would come. Everything had been set in place.

Karl's associate had left two days ago, with a woman neither of them knew. She had long red hair. That's all that mattered.

No one knew that Karl and Bree were still in town. Even the credit card companies would be fooled, since it looked like Bree had just purchased a number of items in a gift shop in Paris. Evan would soon be receiving a letter from Daddy postmarked in London.

The only man that knew Bree was in Fairview was Orson. That was because she'd called him and told him she'd changed her mind. She wanted to work things out, she wanted to stop acting so coldly toward him, and she wanted him to meet her right away at the hotel on Sunset and Beverly.

"Please hurry. I don't want to spend another minute of my life away from you, Orson."

She added his name at the end, speaking it tenderly into the phone. She knew it would send vibrations through his heart to hear her say his name like that once again. The way she used to.

He was on his way. Bree paced the room nervously, wondering how long it would take Karl to get there after she'd sent the signal that Orson had arrived.

She hadn't been so easily convinced. It was the sort of thing you daydreamed about, not something you actually planned out. But the more Karl had spoken about it, making it sound so simple, so necessary, as if they'd be doing Orson a favor by putting him out of his misery, the more she believed that it would all be okay. She now believed it would be possible to get away with murder and live their lives together, free of guilt, free of pain. Free of Orson.

Poor, stupid girl.

There were footsteps in the hall, and Bree stopped her pacing. She froze in place. He couldn't be here yet, she thought. It was too soon.

Second thoughts now? She asked herself. She tried to imagine Karl's eyes, staring deep into her, telling her to follow that dark feeling in her heart. His eyes influenced her like none had before, taking hold of her mind, warping her perception of what was right and wrong. When she was with him, anything was possible. When she was alone she didn't feel so sure. She believed in the possibilities, but she wasn't sure.

He says he can't live without you. But you're already gone. If he really loves you that much, he'll understand.

Bree wondered if Orson would see it coming, if he would ever truly understand what Bree had done to him. Part of her wanted Orson to stare death in the face and know that it was his dear, precious wife that had brought him to this fate. That was the side of her that Karl brought out - pitch black, cruel, but completely real. Another part of her wanted him to leave her with a smile on his face and hope in his heart of a brighter future for the two of them. It was what he wanted most, and she'd once lived to give him everything he wanted. That was the side of her she still recognized within herself, even as she tired of its goodness. The side that wondered if she still had feelings for Orson, buried somewhere deep down inside the lost reaches of her heart.

That's why, she supposed, Karl was going to be the one doing it. He could make the decisions she couldn't.

She tried to think of the last truly happy time she'd had with Orson, and as she thought back on their years together, she was surprised at the mix of memories that came back to her. The revelations on their wedding night. Her first orgasm. The bag of teeth. Raising Benjamin. Losing Benjamin. Lies, promises, fights, reconciliations, support, undermining, smiles, frowns, laughter, tears.

Erasing any of the bad would take the good with it. Bree still wanted to hold on to that good.

There was another thing Bree seemed to feel when Karl wasn't around. Emotion.

She felt her chest rising, her neck uncomfortably tight. For God's sake, am I crying?

She could see Orson's face, through the rain, as she turned in the street to face him. She was already in love with him, she could feel it. She just wanted someone to love her back, it had been so long. He smiled at her, and she no longer cared if they got completely soaked. She felt herself giggling. She hadn't laughed like this, really laughed, in years. They kissed. Bree could have died in that moment, satisfied. She felt like she could breathe again.

There was a knock on the door.

"Bree?" came his muffled voice. "It's me. It's Orson."

Her heart said wait.