I wandered back to the bedroom where Dan was sleeping on his side, breathing softly in the dark. I watched him for a moment, this man who seemed to love me so fiercely, even if it was the wrong me.
I climbed carefully into bed, trying not to disturb him.
Poor guy. He had no idea the stranger who’d been here earlier had just masturbated in his wife’s body.
The next morning, I decided to launch my plan into action.
The soft light of early morning crept in as I shut the apartment door carefully behind me. Dan had barely stirred when I slipped out of bed, and I hoped he'd stay asleep long enough for me to get away.
I hurried down the stairs toward the parking lot, my heart racing. The chill in the air gnawed through Zoey's light sweatshirt, and I shivered, anxiety tightening around me like a coil.
The lot was mostly empty, except for a few cars. I scanned them, my breath misting in small clouds as I fumbled with the keys I'd snatched from a hook by the door.
I found it. A compact white sedan—the only reasonable choice for a young family of four. I climbed inside and slammed the door behind me, urgency mounting.
My fingers trembled as I forced the key into the ignition.
I clutched the steering wheel, staring at my own unsteady reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn't know how far I'd get like this, didn't know what I'd do when I got there, but I had to try.
The drive was short.
My heart pounded in my chest as I pulled into the familiar driveway, the same gravel crunching beneath the tires. I was back, but nothing felt right.
I knocked on the door. Footsteps.
The door swung open.
It was me—only it wasn’t. The face that stared back at me was the same, but the expression was all wrong. My features twisted into a smirk that felt foreign, a mixture of mischief and confidence.
“Nick,” she said, her voice smooth and teasing, “You’ve finally found your way back, I see.”
“What did you do,” I sputtered.
“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed, tilting her head, “We swapped places. You know that. Now I’m living your life.”
“You ...did this?” My pulse raced, “Why?!”
“Because your life was ripe for the taking, Nick. You had everything handed to you on a silver platter: a beautiful wife, a stable job, and that perfect little suburban home. Meanwhile, I was stuck in an existence that felt too small for me.”
“Stuck?” I echoed incredulously, “You had a family!”
“Yes, but they didn’t see me. They saw a role—a mother to fulfill societal expectations, not me.” Her smirk widened as she stepped further into my space, “And our marriage hasn’t been the best lately. I’m done playing house.”
“My wife …is pregnant.”
“I know! So exciting! I’m so looking forward to being a dad!”
“You fucking bitch.”
“Hey now. It’s not so bad. Dan is a nice dude in all honesty. You’ll learn to like him.”
My mouth went dry. "You don't understand. That's my child. My wife. My future."
"Was," she corrected, leaning against the doorframe with my body, looking completely at ease in my skin,
“The switch is permanent."
“No…” I tripped backwards.
I could hear my wife coming down the stairs, “Who’s at the door, honey?”
"Just someone selling something," Zoey called out, still wearing my face.
She lowered her voice, "Better run along now, Zoey. You've got kids waiting for you at home."
I stood frozen, watching my own face smirk at me with cruel satisfaction.
"How?" I managed to ask, my voice—her voice—barely audible, "How did you do this?"
The door slammed in my face, leaving me standing there in Zoey's body, staring at my own front door. My hand rose to knock again, to pound and scream, but what good would it do? Who would believe me?
I stumbled back to the car, legs wobbling beneath me. My vision blurred with tears as I climbed in and gripped the steering wheel. I wasn't sure where to go or what to do. The magnitude of what had happened crashed over me in waves.
"Permanent," I whispered, the word tasting like poison on my tongue.
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