Jess stepped inside the house after a long day out, dropping her bag by the door. Almost immediately, she noticed the change. Mike—her former husband—looked different. Leaner, fitter, more confident somehow. It was as if he’d been transformed overnight.
Her eyes then drifted to Isabelle, who wasn’t really Isabelle anymore—it was Jeff in her mother’s body. Jeff was acting with surprising ease and naturalness, moving and speaking just like Isabelle herself. What unsettled Jess the most was how close Jeff, in Isabelle’s body, had become with Mike. Their laughter, the subtle touches—intimate but tender—made Jess uneasy.
Later, when the house was quieter, Jess found a moment to pull Jeff aside, away from prying ears.
“What are you doing, Jeff?” Jess asked, her voice low and serious. “He’s your father... and my husband.”
At those words, something flickered in Jeff’s eyes. Memories, long suppressed by the device and the altered reality, surged back. The confusion melted away, replaced by the sharp clarity of who he really was.
Jeff blinked, taking a shaky breath. “I... I remember now.”
Jess nodded quietly, relief and concern mixed on her face. “We need to fix this. Together.”
Jeff—now Isabelle—sat heavily at the kitchen table, hands trembling slightly as she stared down into a cooling mug of coffee. The room was quiet, but her mind was storming. Jess stood nearby, unsure of what to say or do. The gravity of what had happened hung thick in the air between them.
"I remember everything now," Jeff said, his voice faint, barely more than a whisper. "I remember being me. Being Jeff. And now I’m... her. Isabelle. Your mother."
Jess didn’t respond right away. She watched as Jeff’s—Isabelle’s—fingers clenched the mug tightly, knuckles pale.
"And the worst part is..." Jeff continued, eyes still downcast. "I don’t feel horrified the way I should. I should be angry, disgusted, screaming at the top of my lungs. But instead, I feel... everything. All at once. And that’s so much worse."
Jess sat down across from her, reaching out slowly. "It’s okay to be overwhelmed. This wasn’t supposed to go this far. It wasn’t supposed to feel this real."
"But it is real!" Jeff snapped suddenly, then instantly softened, guilt flooding her expression. "I made him breakfast. I talked to him. We laughed. We spent the day together like... like I belonged there. And I didn’t just act like Isabelle—I was her. I felt comfortable being her."
She paused, then continued with a hollow laugh, "He touched me, Jess. He looked at me like I was his wife. And I didn’t stop him. I didn’t even want to. I don’t know what that says about me anymore."
Jess looked down, her expression shadowed by regret. "This is my fault. I thought a little role reversal would be punishment enough. I didn’t realize the device would let the identities sink in so deep. I never thought it would feel so... real to you."
Jeff shook her head slowly. "You couldn’t have known. Neither of us did. But it’s more than just the body. It’s the thoughts, the instincts, the feelings. I kept telling myself it was just temporary. Just an act. But the longer I played her role... the less it felt like acting. And now, even knowing the truth, I still feel like her."
"Do you want to go back?" Jess asked gently.
"I don’t know," Jeff whispered. "Part of me is screaming yes. But another part..." She closed her eyes tightly. "Another part feels like going back would be leaving something important behind. I can’t untangle which feelings are mine anymore."
Jess reached across the table, taking her hand. "Whatever happens, we’ll figure this out. Together. You don’t have to carry this alone."
Isabelle—Jeff—nodded slowly, eyes glassy with the weight of impossible feelings. “Thanks,” she murmured. “Even if I don’t know who I am right now... it helps knowing someone still sees me.”
Jess squeezed her hand. "I do. Always."