A TURN OF THE MOON
by
Jessica Drew

Day Three
The Strong One

The next day I woke naturally in the warmth of the morning light. In that brief haze of semi-consciousness I felt content. I stretched and rolled onto my side, my eyes opening to find that Lauren was still asleep beside me. She was turned away and must have been warm in the night, having shrugged her way out of the bed covers. She wore a silky lavender night-dress that contoured to the lines of her body. I reached out, automatically placing a hand on her hip, as I often would. As I used to. I was used to letting the weight of my hand settle there, fingers splayed across the curve of her waist. Except now I saw a slender, small hand, resting lightly.

And my wedding ring was missing.

“Shit!” I whispered to myself, as I quickly sat up in the bed, feeling either side of me for the ring.

“Hmm? Scott…. What’s wrong?” Lauren said sleepily, rolling onto her back and rubbing at her eyes.

“My wedding ring…” I replied with just a hint of panic creeping into my soft voice. It was bad enough that I’d forgotten to wear it yesterday.

“Alright, don’t worry,” Lauren propped herself up, waking fully now. “Get up, and we’ll have a proper look.”

I pulled the covers off me and quickly got out of bed. I felt my breasts shifting beneath my peach bed top with the sudden movement.

“Look here it is, silly. You were sitting on it!” Lauren laughed as she held up the platinum band between her fingers.

“Oh… phew!” My shoulders fell, as a wave of relief passed through me.

Lauren slid her legs round and rose out of bed, her night dress settling against her thighs. She walked around to my side of the bed, pausing for a moment. “Listen, maybe it would be best to keep it somewhere safe for the moment.” 

I swallowed, recalling how loose it had felt on my slender finger the night before. “I think you’re probably right,” I agreed, though feeling a bit sad about it. 

Lauren opened my bedside drawer. She paused, closing her hand around the ring protectively for a moment, before placing it down. “There, it’s safe now,” she said, sliding the drawer shut. I nodded as she carefully moved a strand of blonde hair away from my face.

* * * * *

I sat on the toilet, my elbows resting on my knees, with my face cupped in my hands. I’d hoped I’d be able to spend a little longer in bed — to hide away a little longer — but events had conspired to thrust me forwards. I just needed a moment, even if I knew I couldn’t just press pause on everything. I exhaled and a new muscle memory took over. I peed. I wiped. I flushed. It seemed my body was getting used to some things quicker than I was. After washing my hands, I paused in front of the bathroom mirror. I saw how my blonde hair framed the heart-shaped softness of my jawline. Light blue eyes blinked, with lips just slightly parted, as if in thought. I looked strangely… fine. If there was a man within, desperate to claw his way back to normality, it certainly wasn’t immediately obvious. I took a breath and swept my hair back behind both my ears. I wondered what Lauren saw now when shelooked at me? There was a light tap at the bathroom door.

“Are you done?” Lauren’s voice called from the other side.

I opened the door and she hurried past me. “My turn! Could you give me a minute?” she asked, a little urgently.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, of course,” I turned back to the door, paused for a second, then stepped out, closing it behind me. 

I heard Lauren call after me from inside the bathroom. “Don’t go anywhere!” 

I stood in the hallway on the other side of the bathroom door, my fingers absently feeling the smoothness of the wall.

“So, I was thinking,” Lauren continued, “you should probably wash your hair today. It’s been a couple of days now, and, well… dipping it in the bathtub doesn’t count!”

“Uhh… maybe I should just cut it all off…” I murmured, half to myself. I heard the toilet flush from inside the bathroom.

“What?” Lauren called over the noise.

“Nothing!” I replied, louder this time.

Lauren opened the bathroom door to let me back in, then returned to wash her hands.

“Well, one thing I’m glad of — at least you’re not leaving the toilet seat up anymore!” She winked at me, as I felt my cheeks flush. I watched as Lauren paused to check her own appearance in the bathroom mirror. She reached up, bouncing the ends of her brown hair lightly. “Okay…” She turned to face me once more, but something made her hesitate. Her gaze seemed to linger for a second. She smiled and squeezed my shoulders. “Shampoo… you can use my shampoo. It’ll work better for your hair.” Lauren stepped towards the shower cubicle, playfully beckoning me to follow with a finger. I padded after her. She handed me her shampoo bottle from the shelf, along with a second matching bottle of the same brand. “This one’s conditioner — it’ll help protect your hair and keep it soft.” Then she took down a bottle of body wash and balanced it on top, “And use this, it’ll be better for your skin.” 

I held the pile of bottles precariously in my small hands. “Sounds like I’ll be a while!” I replied.

* * * * *

The hot water of the shower ran over my body, tracing my new contours, before running down to my feet. Now that I didn’t have to worry about keeping my hair dry, I was able to close my eyes and fully bathe my face in the warmth of the water. I pushed my soaking hair back over my shoulders, feeling the weight of it.

I clicked open Lauren’s body wash and brought the bottle to my nose. A floral scent rose up. It was funny how men’s shower gel was all about things like “power”, “freshness”, or “the sea”, while this smelled of flowers and fruit. I poured some into my hands and began to rub it into my skin. I worked it slowly across my shoulders and chest, then down my stomach. It felt smoother and creamier against my skin, and it lathered easily. I raised a leg in turn, working from my thigh down to my ankle, and soon the floral scent surrounded me in the steam of the shower. 

After rinsing thoroughly, I turned my attention to my hair. I didn’t know quite how much shampoo to use, but poured out what I considered a generous amount. I began to massage the shampoo into my hair, finding there was just too much of it now. As I tried to separate it into sections, my fingers got caught up in tangles and I had to constantly push wet strands away from my face. Eventually I found that holding my hair between two hands helped to work the shampoo through the longer length.

I switched to the conditioner now, something that I’d never had to use before. Unlike the shampoo it didn’t lather, instead feeling heavier and creamier in my hair. I did my best to work it through, the tangles gradually giving way to a smooth silkiness. Finally, I put my head back under the shower head and washed everything out as best I could. As I wiped the suds out my eyes I wondered whether I was supposed to let the conditioner sit.

Oh well, it was too late now.

Turning the shower off, I wrung my hair out, the water slapping as it hit the porcelain base. I stepped out, my skin looking pinkish from the heat. Grabbing my white towel from the rail, I started to pat it over my body, finding it preferable to the abrasive rubbing of the last couple of days.

I tied the towel around me and had just reached for the handle of the bathroom door, when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.  Stupid. I untied the towel from my waist and positioned it higher, making sure to cover my breasts this time.

* * * * *

I made my way back down the hall, my hair feeling wet and heavy against my neck. From downstairs I could faintly hear the thrum of the coffee percolator. Walking through into the bedroom, I opened the wardrobe and stretched up on tiptoe to fetch a spare towel. I spent a minute roughly rubbing it over my head, then ran my fingers through my mess of hair, trying to tame it as best I could. I found that it did feel smoother now, and my fingers no longer snagged in every strand.

I turned to the dresser, holding the knot of my towel with one hand as I opened my top drawer with the other. My boxer briefs were nearly all black or grey, and piled messily on top of one another. I paused, remembering how misshapen and ill-fitting they had seemed on my new body — how the waistband had dug into the curve of my wider hips. I slid the drawer closed, hesitating for a moment. I opened Lauren’s drawer instead.

By contrast, Lauren’s panty drawer was an explosion of colour – reds, blues, purples and pinks sat alongside black and white, and all in different fabrics – cotton, lace and satin. Each pair had been neatly folded and arranged in the drawer. As much as I hated to admit it, it had come as a relief to wear underwear more suited to my new body. My fingers drummed on the edge of the drawer. 

I just needed something… basic again.

I reached in, with a little trepidation, as if the feminine underwear might snap at my fingers at any moment.  White had been a safe option yesterday. I quickly grabbed a pair.

“Who said you could just help yourself to my panty drawer?” Lauren’s voice made me nearly jump out of my skin. I tightened my grip on the knot of my towel to keep it from slipping.

“Lauren… I… I didn’t hear you!” I stammered.

She stood in the doorway of the bedroom, with her hands planted on her hips in mock indignation. “Evidently!” She tried to look shocked, but she couldn’t hide her amused smile. She glanced down at the panties that I held in my hand with raised eyebrows. “Oh, someone feels daring today!”

“What?” I looked down at the panties I had quickly grabbed from the drawer. Yes, they were white like the panties I had worn yesterday — but that was where the similarity ended. This pair was sheer and far skimpier than I’d realised, with a lacy trim along its edges. “Ah! No… this isn’t what I wanted!” My cheeks were burning as I stuffed them back into the drawer.

Lauren broke character and softened as she stepped up to me. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist! Of course you can help yourself!” She smiled. “Come on, let me help.” She placed a hand on the edge of the drawer and looked in, considering the options. “So what were you thinking for today?”

I reached up and toyed with a silky strand of my blonde hair. “I, um… just something plain like yesterday.”

“So just a plain cotton pair. And they were comfortable? Nothing digging in?”

“No… no they were fine,” I replied, all the while wishing that this agonising discussion about women’s underwear would end!

“Here you go, these are very similar to what you had on yesterday,” Lauren said, handing me a plain light grey pair of panties.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Do you… um… have one of those vest thingies that I could wear again?”

“Yes honey, they’re in the next drawer down,” Lauren said touching my arm. “I’m going to take a shower now, so help yourself to whatever you need. And there’s coffee in the pot downstairs.” She gave my arm a gentle squeeze and then headed to the bathroom. I stood there for a moment in the quiet of the bedroom before turning back toward the dresser.

* * * * *

I sat at the vanity table, dressed in the same beige sweatpants and top from yesterday, with fresh grey cotton providing a layer of comfort beneath. It felt familiar… safe.. Two mugs of coffee steamed on the table beside the bed. By the time I picked up Lauren’s hairbrush, I could hear the bathroom door opening down the hall.

“Ah, that’s better!” Lauren sighed as she stepped back into the bedroom. She was wearing a pastel pink satin robe and had a small white towel wrapped around her brunette hair. It hadn’t even occurred to me to do that. She sat on the edge of the bed, close to me, crossing one bare leg over the other.

I turned my head toward her. “I poured you some coffee,” I said, gesturing.

“Oh, you’re an angel,” Lauren beamed, picking up a mug and cradling it in her hands. Her gaze lingered for a moment on my beige sweatpants and sweatshirt. She didn’t comment, just took a sip of her coffee. I gave a small smile and turned my attention back to the mirror, running the brush through my hair a few more times. Lauren shifted her legs up onto the bed to enjoy her coffee and check her phone.

I set the hairbrush to one side. “Right…” I whispered to myself, looking around for the hairdryer.

“In that box under the table, honey,” Lauren glanced up from her phone.

“Oh, thanks.” I unpacked it and plugged it in under the table. It whirred to life in my hand and I began to work it aimlessly over my hair. I caught Lauren saying something out of the corner of my eye, but she was drowned out by the noise. I flicked off the hairdryer. “Sorry, what?”

“Lift your hair in sections, and really try and get in under the roots,” Lauren suggested. “And keep using the hairbrush as you go, so it doesn’t tangle.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay…” I flicked the hairdryer back on and did my best to lift my hair, blowing hot air over and underneath. After drying a section, I would brush it out. It was tricky juggling both the dryer and the hairbrush in my small hands. I glanced at Lauren while the hairdryer whirred, and she gave me a reassuring nod and a smile. It seemed like I was at it for ages, but finally I put the hairdryer and brush down. I ran my hands through the length of my hair as I looked in the mirror. It didn’t look great… but at least it was dry.

“Hey, not too bad,” Lauren said with a warm smile. “You know it’s going to take us twice as long to get ready now that I have to share everything with you!” she teased. She set her coffee mug down and rose to stand behind me. I felt her hands smooth over my blonde hair, drawing it back. “You probably only want to wash it every few days, otherwise it will dry out,” she said, “Just try and get into a routine.” Lauren paused for a moment. “You know we could tie this back,” she said, looking over my shoulder at my reflection in the vanity mirror, “Help keep it away from your face?” 

I breathed in, looking at her in the reflection of the mirror. I nodded.

Lauren reached past me to grab a hairband from the vanity table. She gathered my hair, looped the band around in one quick motion, and pulled it taut. “That okay, not too tight?”

“No… it feels fine,” I replied, reaching up to touch my hair.

“It gives you a couple of options,” Lauren remarked. I gazed at the mirror, and saw how my ears were exposed, my cheekbones and jawline more defined. When I turned my head, I felt the ponytail brush lightly at the base of my neck.

* * * * *

The sun peeked out from behind a cloud, bathing the porch in warmth and sending a shimmer across the surface of the lake. Lauren closed her eyes, tilting her head against the back of the chair to bathe her face in the sun. She wore a pastel pink blouse and a dark patterned skirt, with a light grey cardigan resting loosely across her shoulders. I walked the length of the porch, feeling less settled, like I should be doing something. I stopped and placed my hand on one of the wooden supports of the porch, gently rocking it back and forth. I’d been wanting to fix that this week. I’d bought the new post and everything.

The distant screech of an electric saw echoed across the lake, and I looked over towards the house on the opposite shore. Birds burst from a nearby tree and fluttered up into the sky.

Lauren brought her head forward and opened her eyes, sighing at the interruption. She looked over towards me. “Why don’t you come and sit down?”

“I’m fine,” I replied and sank my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt. “Did Axis email back yet?” I asked.

“I checked while we were upstairs. There’s nothing yet, honey,” Lauren said as she adjusted her cardigan. 

“Maybe check again?” I insisted. The sound of the saw droned in the background.

Lauren leaned forward, grabbing her phone from the table. “There… nothing, okay?” She held up her phone screen for me to see. 

I sighed and looked out over the lake. I brought a hand up and absently ran it through the length of my ponytail. My thumb brushed against my left ring finger, feeling the absence there.

“Scott… it hasn’t even been a day,” Lauren said, noticing my restlessness. “We need to give Axis a chance to respond. They’re going to need time to figure out what happened.”

“I just hope we didn’t scare them off,” I said quietly, glancing back at her.

Lauren was silent for a moment. “You think it’s because of that email don’t you? You think it was too much…”

“I didn’t say that…”

“We talked about it. You agreed to it, remember?” Lauren huffed. I turned to face her as she pushed her phone back onto the table and folded her arms.

“I know, uh… I just feel like—“

“Like what? Like I pushed you into it?” 

“No… I mean, not pushed exactly…”

Another burst of sawing cut across the lake, joined now by the clattering of a hammer. After a moment, Lauren pushed herself up from the chair, rubbing at her forehead. “I can’t listen to this noise anymore.” She grabbed her phone and turned to go back inside, her skirt fanning at her calves.

I wondered just what noise she meant.

* * * * *

I left it a few minutes before I went back inside. I slid the porch door shut behind me to block out the noise from the lake. From the back door I could see the whole open-plan living space. I figured Lauren must have gone upstairs, but then I heard the sound of her distant voice coming from the side hallway. She must have gone to her office to make a call.

I walked over to the kitchen area, feeling an ache in my back. I winced with discomfort and made an effort to pull my shoulders back. I placed my hands on the kitchen side and took a deep breath.

Time for a peace offering.

Lauren often enjoyed a fresh juice about this time, so I set about gathering up some oranges from the bowl and cutting them in half. I was glad to have my hair back and out of the way while I worked. I pressed the orange halves into the juicer and filled a small glass. I then walked over to the fridge and dropped a couple of ice cubes into the glass from the built-in ice maker.

I carried the glass from the kitchen and crossed through the living area. As I walked, I felt the rhythmic sway of my ponytail brushing against my neck, along with the gentle bounce of my breasts moving freely beneath my vest and sweatshirt. 

The side hallway didn’t receive much of the natural light, keeping it dim even during the day. At the far end, Lauren’s office door was outlined in a soft halo as light filtered around the edges. I could still hear her talking on her cellphone, her voice sounding clearer as I approached.  I’ll just poke my head through and hand her the juice.

I reached for the door handle but stopped, overhearing Lauren’s side of the conversation.

“Me? I’m okay… I’m trying to do the right thing… it’s just…” Lauren’s voice cracked with emotion, “It’s really hard sometimes.” There was a pause. She sniffed, and when she spoke again she sounded as though she was making a conscious effort to keep her emotions in check.

“I know… I know. I just need to be the strong one for now… keep things together.”

My hand tightened around the glass of juice. I stepped slowly back from the door.

* * * * *

When Lauren finally emerged from the office, I was busy wiping down the sides and cleaning out the juicer. She looked drained. 

“Hey,” I said quietly. I wiped my hands on a tea towel and untied my apron. “I, uh, made you some juice. It should still be nice and cold.” 

“Thanks,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. She picked up the glass from the kitchen counter and carried it over to the living area. I watched for a moment as she sat herself down on the plush sofa, folding her legs beneath her and smoothing her patterned skirt. She took a sip of the juice, cradling the glass in her hands, lost in her thoughts.

I took a breath and then walked over to join her, sitting quietly beside her. Lauren smiled, but it seemed to be more out of politeness. I cleared my throat. “Listen, uh, I didn’t mean to overhear earlier…”

“Overhear what?” Lauren asked from over the rim of her glass.

“When you were on the phone… in the office.”

“Oh.” Lauren set the glass of juice down onto the low coffee table in front of her. “It uh… it was Emma…” she said, sheepishly rubbing at an invisible mark on her skirt.

“Emma…” I repeated. Emma was Lauren’s best friend and they’d known each other since business school. They spoke at least a couple of times a week and would often meet for coffee. I knew she spoke to her about everything. I just didn’t realise that meant… everything.

“I just needed someone to talk to… Someone else I mean…”

“I… understand,” I replied. I knew that talking to a female friend was different for Lauren than talking to her husband. “You sounded pretty upset.”

“It’s just… I want you to feel like you can lean on me… for anything.” Lauren shifted her body toward me on the sofa, looking into my eyes now.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still get upset about all this,” I said.

“Maybe. But I keep thinking, if I can’t handle this, where does that leave you?” Lauren gazed at me, her eyes looking sad. “I don’t want it to be like last time.”

“This isn’t like last time,” I said softly, reaching for her hand. An ironic smile flickered at the corner of my mouth and I made a show of looking down at myself. “Obviously!”

I could see Lauren’s eyes moisten slightly. “I know… it’s just I remember what it was like. When you lost your job that time… before Axis. I watched you disappear for a bit. I can’t let that happen again.” I felt her squeeze my hand.

“It won’t… you’ve been such a help, you really have,” I reassured. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be sitting around in my underwear watching daytime TV!” 

Lauren laughed a little, and reached up to dab at one of her eyes. “You mean my underwear!”

“Well… yes!” I laughed. 

As we continued to talk, I brought my legs up, tucking them under me, my head resting on my bent arm. Laughter came easily and masked the distant construction noise from beyond the lake. As the morning drew on, the sun shifted across the living room and fell across the sofa.

* * * * *

The easy mood between us continued on through lunch. We carried our finished plates and glasses to the sink, and I opened the dishwasher, bending down to load it. 

“Mmf,” I winced, putting a hand to my stiff lower back as I carefully straightened up.

“You okay?” Lauren asked, watching me. She put a hand to my lower back and rubbed it gently. 

“Yes, it’s just… every now and then I feel like I’m seizing up,” I said.

Lauren nodded thoughtfully. “Here, let me do that,” Lauren said, as she finished loading the dishwasher and closed the door.. “Listen… I wanted to talk to you…”

“What is it?” I asked, as I started folding the kitchen towels up.

“About earlier, on the porch. I’m sorry I snapped at you. And the email… If I pushed you into something you weren’t comfortable with, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sometimes I need a little pushing,” I said with a small smile, suddenly aware of the floral scent of my skin and the panties I was wearing under my sweatpants.

“I just don’t like sitting back and doing nothing,” Lauren said, planting her hands on her hips.

“I know, I’ve met you,” I smiled.

Lauren’s eyes glanced down at my body for a moment. “If we can just find out more about where we stand with all this... maybe do some legal research.”

“Lauren...” I sighed. I went to fold my arms, but it felt awkward with my breasts in the way. I gave up and let my arms hang at my sides instead.

“Alright, alright...” Lauren backed off as she thought for a moment. “Then what about Axis Labs. Do you know of anything they were working on that could have caused this?”

“No... I mean, I’m just responsible for the logistics. Moving the samples... logging, storage... that sort of thing. I probably logged samples from dozens of different projects on the day it happened.” I exhaled. “There’s no way to tell...”

“But wait, they gave us the compound name,” Lauren said, her eyes widening. “Wait here.” I watched as Lauren hurried over to the coffee table. She returned with her laptop and a piece of paper. It was the letter we’d been given by Axis.

“B-579H” Lauren read from the paper as she set the laptop down on the breakfast bar. “That was the sample name. Does that mean anything to you?”

“It’s just a number it doesn’t—" I paused for a moment. “Wait, the letter at the end, that usually tells you who the lead scientist was.”

“’H’” Lauren said to herself. “So, who’s ‘H’?”

“I... I don’t know,” I said flatly.

Lauren slid up onto one of the bar stools and opened the lid of her laptop. She shook her brunette hair back and slipped on her glasses. I tightened the cord on my sweatpants a little and went to join her, standing just behind, so I could see over her shoulder. I watched as she opened a browser and brought up the Axis Laboratories website. She began to scan through the directory.

“Hey, look… ‘H’... for Hartwell.” Lauren slid the laptop over so I could see the screen more clearly. I leaned forward with my elbows on the breakfast bar, feeling my breasts shift under my beige top. My blonde ponytail slipped forward over my left shoulder.

“Doctor Phillipa Hartwell,” I read aloud from the screen. “I never met her...” There was a photo of her and a short profile. In the photo she wore her hair tied back in a tight bun, its auburn colour broken by a few streaks of grey. She wore black-rimmed glasses, her arms folded across a white lab coat, looking kind but confident.

Lauren pointed at the text beneath her name. “Look at her specialisms — Female Reproductive Biology, Genetic Therapy and Tissue Regeneration… Scott, this sounds like it!”

My mouth hung open as I stared back at Hartwell’s photo. Was it her research that had caused this to happen to me? Somewhere along the line there had been a mix-up. A missing biohazard label... an unsealed container perhaps… Whatever it was, something had got out, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital…

“There’s a number…” I said, my throat suddenly dry. “I need to find my phone.” I pushed away from the breakfast bar and spun around, my ponytail flicking outwards.

“Your coat pocket, honey,” Lauren said, slipping her glasses off.

I quickly made my way down the short hallway to the front door and found my coat. I rummaged in the pockets and soon found my phone. The screen illuminated my face in the dim hallway. I drew a breath. There on the screen – my phone’s wallpaper. It was an image from our wedding day. Lauren was radiant in her white dress, her brunette hair piled on top of her head with the biggest smile I ever saw. And holding her from behind, with head resting on her shoulder… It was me. I felt my throat choke up from the unexpected emotion of seeing my old self. Slender, square faced, grey eyes, short dirty blonde hair… A man… I hadn’t seen that face for three days. I traced a finger along the edge of the screen.

I composed myself and returned to the kitchen. Lauren looked up at me from the breakfast bar. “Okay…” I sniffed and held the phone up to my face to unlock it. I felt it vibrate in my hand.

One failed attempt. Two attempts remaining.

“Damn it…” Even my phone didn’t know who I was anymore. I tapped the screen with my finger bringing up the number pad. “What’s my code…” I was used to the phone unlocking with facial recognition. I tapped in our anniversary date, but my fingers shook and I hit a wrong number at the end.

Two failed attempts. One attempt remaining

“Uh!” I let out a shrill whine. The phone then automatically tried to register my face once more. It vibrated cruelly in my hand.

Too many failed attempts. Your phone is now locked.

“No!” I cried out in frustration, staring down at the phone. The screen dimmed. The wedding photo – Lauren in her white dress and the man holding her – faded to black. I turned away, wiping at an eye, not wanting Lauren to see how upset I was. I just needed a minute.

“Hello... can I speak to Doctor Phillipa Hartwell please.” I turned at the sound of Lauren’s voice. She smiled warmly at me as she set her own phone down on the breakfast bar, switching it to loudspeaker.

“Please hold, I’ll just put you through now,” came the disembodied voice of the Axis receptionist.

I stepped silently over to Lauren. I placed a hand on her shoulder and rose onto my toes to place a small kiss on her cheek. Lauren glanced back over her shoulder with a slightly surprised smile.

We waited, staring down at the phone as it rang through. Finally, the receptionist came back on the line.

“I’m sorry, but Doctor Hartwell is not taking external calls at this time."

“Oh... well, when’s best to call back?” Lauren asked.

“No, I’m sorry, you misunderstand. She won’t be taking anyexternal calls.”

I turned away, running my hands over my hair as stared up at the ceiling. Lauren persevered, but failed to get anything more out of them. Finally, she tapped her phone with a finger, ending the call.

Neither of us spoke. The kitchen dimmed a little as the sun drifted behind a cloud.

* * * * *

That evening, we got ourselves ready for bed. Lauren was dressed in a soft grey cotton nightie that had a pink lace edging. I watched how it shifted across her body as she leaned down to pull back the bed covers. She’d found me another pyjama set to wear, consisting of a pastel blue t-shirt and shorts. They were similar in style to the peach-coloured set that I’d borrowed from her, though the neckline of the tee plunged just a little lower and the shorts were cut just a little higher at my upper thigh. They felt comfortable and loose enough to move in, but I still self-consciously slipped under the covers a little quicker than usual.

Since the failed call to Axis, the rest of the day had passed quietly. Lauren had insisted on pursuing the legal angle, scouring the internet for anything she could find on liability and negligence. In contrast, I drifted aimlessly around the house. I had tried to read, but found I couldn’t really concentrate. I had flicked on the TV, but felt strangely self-conscious by it. It felt too much like opening a window and letting the outside world in to stare at me.

I glanced to Lauren as she got into bed. She took a small tube of moisturising cream from her bedside and poured some into her hands. She began to gently rub it into her face.

“You might want to use some of this, Scott,” Lauren said, breaking the silence and handing me the moisturiser. “Your skin’s softer now – it’ll keep it from drying out.” She continued to work the cream into her arms. 

I took the small tube from Lauren and took a deep breath. “Alright…” I poured the moisturiser into my hands, feeling the coolness in my palms. I began to gently rub it into my face. I was still surprised by the smoothness of my cheeks and jawline. As a man my beard used to grow in quickly and I was in the habit of shaving every few days. I didn’t know if I was glad to have one less thing to worry about, or whether I missed the familiar routine of it.

“Rub some under your eyes as well,” Lauren said watching me, “but gently, the skin’s a little thinner there.”

I nodded and lightly rubbed under each eye. “Lauren… I’m sorry... I feel like I’ve been all over the place today. I’ll get back on track tomorrow.” I said, pausing to look at her.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Lauren reassured. “Here… you missed a bit.” She brought a finger to my cheek and carefully rubbed in some of the excess cream. Her eyes swept across my face until she was satisfied that the moisturiser was all rubbed in. “I do need you to keep talking to me though. It’s when you shut down. That’s when I get worried.”

“It’s just... one moment I felt like we were getting somewhere, and then… Well, we can’t even speak to the person we need to speak to,” I said, looking down and toying with my fingers.

“Well, it told us one thing,” Lauren said. “It told us we were on the right track.”

I looked up and nodded. She was right. Axis would probably want to do whatever it could to stop this from getting out — a man transformed, left distressed and struggling, with the body of a woman.

I poured some more of the moisturiser cream into my palms, beginning to rub it into each of my arms.

* * * * *