One year later, Sarah in my old body decided to show up. And she was not happy.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I croaked, trying to keep my voice level.
I didn't want her to see the fear that was creeping into my eyes.
"I'm here to take back my life!" she shouted.
"You're not taking back anything," I said.
I was starting to shake and I didn't want her to see that.
"You stole my life! You're not supposed to be here!" she shouted, her voice rising.
"Sarah, calm down," I said, trying to reason with her.
Sarah rushed towards me, pinning me to her bed. Our eyes locked.
"You have no right to be here," she hissed.
"Sarah, please," I begged her to listen.
But she wouldn't listen. She was fixated on taking back her life, on punishing me for what I had done.
"Tell me where the device is," Sarah demanded.
"What device?" I asked, trying to stall for time.
"The device that switches bodies between us! I know you have it!" she shouted. "Tell me where it is!"
I swallowed hard and tried to think.
"I don't have it," I said finally, telling the truth, "It's been destroyed."
"No..." Sarah gasped, "You can't just... You can't be me."
"It's too late, Sarah. It's done."
I watched as Sarah's face fell, as she realized that she would never be able to take back her life.
She scanned my body –her old self– with wide eyes. She reached up to touch my cheek and then stepped back, her face a mixture of sadness and anger.
"You're lucky I don't kill you right now," she hissed.
"I know," I said quietly.
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I quickly turned away from her.
"People always said I was pretty," Sarah continued, "I was always supposed to become a beautiful woman, like my mother. Now I'm a boy... and you..."
She trailed off, her voice breaking.
I reached out to grab her hand.
"I'm sorry, Sarah," I said, "I'm sorry for everything."
She held my feminine hand in her now-boyish fingers, turning it over, reminiscing about how it used to be her hand. Her eyes followed my arms and landed on my pouty lips. My breasts. She wore a pained smile and just shook her head.
I drew my fingertips along the expanse of my breasts and down towards their gentle curve. Sarah's eyes followed the motion, unable to look away. I grabbed her hands and lifted them to my soft breasts.
She didn't resist.
She paused for a moment, her eyes searching mine, before she leaned in and kissed me.
It was a gentle kiss, one that expressed sorrow and regret. But as soon as it touched my lips, I knew that it also expressed something else. Something more than regret or sorrow.
It was forgiveness and longing.
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