Jess pressed her trembling thumb to the device, confirming Option 6. Laura hesitated, staring at her daughter—no, her son—for a beat longer before pressing “Execute.”
The world shimmered.
It wasn’t flashy or loud. There was no flash of light or ripping of time—just a sudden, deep silence, like the moment before waking from a dream.
When Jeff opened his eyes again, his stomach was flat. His body felt… right. Older, still 27, but back in his male frame. His voice was his own again. Strong, low, familiar. He looked at his hands, took a deep breath, and then turned to his mother.
“Did it work?” he asked.
Laura was already scanning the interface. “Vitals are stable. The rewrite is clean. No corruption. No warnings. She—Freya—should be fine.”
“Freya,” Jeff echoed the name. “That’s… Geoff?”
“Was,” Laura corrected softly. “Now, Freya. According to this, she’s your wife. Always has been. She’s seven months pregnant. You’ve been married for four years. And Macy…” she paused, reading. “Still your daughter. Freya carried her too. And loves her deeply.”
Jeff didn’t speak. He just nodded.
They left the bedroom, moving through a house that no longer felt unfamiliar. It was their home. Their family photos were still there—only now it was Freya beside him in the wedding picture. Her long auburn hair, flushed cheeks, and mischievous smile beamed proudly next to his tuxedoed self.
They heard humming from the kitchen.
Freya stood by the counter, blending smoothies—one hand resting on her belly as she danced slightly to music from her earbuds. She turned with a smile when she noticed them.
“Hey, babe!” she chirped, walking toward Jeff and Laura. “I made extra—want a smoothie?”
Jeff blinked. Her voice was different. Softer. She moved with a sort of maternal grace that made his heart ache. She handed a glass to Jeff, then to Laura.
“Banana, oat milk, peanut butter,” she grinned. “Doctor says protein’s good for the baby.”
Laura set the drink down and hugged her.
Freya stiffened for a moment—then crumbled.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Sorry—hormones—I just—thank you for being here,” she sobbed into Laura’s shoulder.
Jeff stood awkwardly, unsure what to feel.
But then Freya reached for him.
And Jeff stepped in.
The hug was soft. Warm. Familiar in a way that unsettled him. She leaned into his chest like she belonged there. And some deep part of him responded instinctively—his arms around her, his hand rubbing her back.
He felt the baby kick between them.
Laura stood back, eyes unreadable as she watched the two.
Jeff met her gaze over Freya’s shoulder. He didn’t say it aloud, but it was clear:
He had another choice to make.
The Options Now:
1) Stay. Continue as Freya’s husband. Be a father to Macy and the unborn baby. Accept the rewritten life and explore happiness in this new, voluntary role.
2) Restore the past. Use the device to return himself and Macy to age 16—undo the family, reset Freya as a single pregnant woman unaware of their prior connection.
3) Adjust again. Jeff keeps his adult body, but makes himself and Freya strangers—removing their romantic bond but staying as co-parents to their children.