After the Body Swap, His Own Mother Broke Him

When the screen went dark, I ran barefoot to the sink and yanked up my shirt.

The man in the mirror was tall and a little soft from never exercising, with a layer of fat around his middle.

Most of all, my new body was whole. Healthy.

There was no jagged C-section scar across my abdomen. I could breathe easily, with none of that heavy, dragging pressure in my chest. When I put weight on my wrist, no needle-sharp pain shot through the joint.

I stared into the mirror as my tears fell faster.

This was incredible. Truly incredible.

So this was what it felt like to walk without a weakened pelvic floor causing urine leaks. After a full night's sleep, my mind could actually be this clear. So this was what it felt like to inhabit a body that childbirth and relentless housework had not ground down to the bone.

A soft knock sounded at the door to the office lounge. The body's memory told me it was Danielle from reception. She came in carrying a steaming cup of black coffee.

"Kevin, you're up? Here's your coffee. It's just the right temperature." She saw my reddened eyes and immediately set the cup down, alarmed. "Do you have a headache from drinking too much at a client dinner last night? Should I get you something for the hangover?"

I froze.

After I gave birth and ran a fever for three days straight, my husband told me to take some Tylenol and rest. He had a client meeting the next day and didn't want to catch anything, so he packed a blanket and spent three nights in a hotel.

Yet now, all I had done was let my eyes redden, and one of his well-paid subordinates was immediately fussing over me. I curled my hands around the hot coffee.

"I'm fine, Danielle."

My phone buzzed again.

Kevin, wearing my body, had sent a selfie. In the photo, he was sprawled on the couch wearing my face, a spread of expensive takeout covering the coffee table, looking enormously pleased with himself.

[See this? No getting up early, no packed subway. Just order in. This is what living looks like.] [Olivia, are you shaking in an office bathroom right now?] [Don't say I didn't warn you. We have a meeting at ten with a major prospect I've spent six months courting. You'd better call in sick. Don't ruin a $300,000 deal!]

Looking at that familiar face in the photo, all I felt was relief.

He thought he had stolen a paradise where he could lie around. He had no idea that every inch of the body he thought had such an easy life was steeped in despair.

I didn't answer him. I picked up the black coffee I had never dared touch while I was nursing and took a long, hard swallow.

Five years. This was the first time I had claimed a hot drink for myself without apology.