Commissioned Anonymously
Caroline and Matthew are on the verge of divorce; she wants to focus on earning money and getting a glamorous job, he wants to hit the road and find himself in an RV. Their therapist thinks they just need to stop being stubborn and walk a mile in one another's shoes. Next thing they know, Caroline is trailer trash and Matthew is the sophisticated businesswoman. Now they have to figure out their new roles, explore one another’s POV and maybe remember why they fell in love in the first place.
It was delightfully predictable. The therapy room smelled faintly of sandalwood and lemon tea, and the walls were a calming shade of grey that sucked the colour out of the garish abstract paintings on the walls. It was a lot like a hospital room, with big cheery paintings that did nothing to distract from the fact that nobody actually wanted to be here. Dr. Rahman sat in her chair with a perfectly straight back and the neutral expression of someone who had been doing this too long and could already see the writing on the wall.
Across from her, Matthew and Caroline Sharpe occupied the couch with the stiff discomfort of strangers forced into intimacy; looking at them, you’d never guess they were a couple. Despite the couches' cosy nature they were as far apart as it allowed. Matthew was practically hanging off the side. Married twelve years, together sixteen, but to an outsider, they looked more like bickering coworkers forced into a group project. They truly were chalk and cheese; him with his dark hair and olive complexion, and her with her white blonde and piercing green eyes.
“I just think we need to shake things up,” Matt said, “Get out of this loop we’ve been in, wake up, go to work, watch TV, sleep. Rinse. Repeat. What’s the point of that?”
Caroline smoothed her manicured hands over her tight pencil skirt and pursed her lips.
“So your solution is to sell everything and live in an RV like... hippies?”
“Like people who still feel alive. I’ve tried to show you the video, those people living life out on the road, close to nature, that’s real living, Carol.”
“Caroline.” She corrected sharply before turning to address Dr. Rahman. “And I am not indulging your midlife crisis, not when I have such a big opportunity.”
She flicked her ice blonde hair over her shoulder proudly as she turned to address the therapist.
“I’ve been offered a transfer to the city. Senior consultant. That’s real life. A chance to make something of myself. He wants me to give all that up for a wild RV life when he’s never even gone camping! We’d go to galleries, wear tailored clothes, eat real food in places with linen napkins and table reservations booked months in advance.”
“You mean you would,” Matt shot back. “I’d rot in a high-rise like a potted plant.”
“You want to bring another woman into our marriage, Matt,” Caroline replied, voice rising. “Another woman and mud. That’s not life, that’s a midlife crisis with a sleeping bag.”
“I’m just saying maybe having another woman in the mix might spice things up! You’re always complaining that I don't touch you right, another woman could teach me.”
“I could teach you if you’d ever listen!”
Dr. Rahman let out a sharp sigh. Normally, she hid her frustration from her clients but these two were so conceited they never noticed. She forced a polite smile onto her face and raised a hand gently.
“Let’s pause. You’re both expressing needs, but you’re not hearing each other. Caroline, when Matt says ‘alive,’ what do you think that means for him? And Matt, when Caroline says ‘a real life,’ what might she be feeling that you’re not addressing?”
They both fell quiet, and Matt looked out the window. A pigeon pecked at something on the sill.
“I think she wants a life I don’t exist in.”
Caroline didn’t respond right away. Her eyes were fixed on her hands, folded neatly in her lap.
“And I think you already want someone else to take my place.”
“No, that’s not-” he started, but Dr. Rahman raised her hand again.
“That’s closer to honesty,” she said. “Keep going.”
But they didn’t. Instead, Matt crossed his arms and leaned back, and sighed dramatically. Caroline sat straighter, stiff as a board with a sour look on her face. They’d already made up their minds about the other. Dr. Rahman bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming: how had these two ever fallen in love in the first place?
The session came to an end without any progress being made, again. Dr. Rahman waved goodbye to the bickering couple and silently thanked whatever God might exist that they didn’t have children. As she retreated to her office, she found herself hovering by the shelf. There, hidden behind a pile of psychology books that were mostly just for show, was a box.
The idol had a good track record, but that was because Dr. Rahman used it sparingly. Activating it often gave couples a chance to walk in one another's shoes, but there were often strange, reality bending side effects. If she thought there was no hope, she wouldn't bother, but something deep down inside her, formed from years of experience, told her Matthew and Caroline could make it, if drastic measures were taken. This might be their only shot.
She had no idea where the idol had come from or how it worked. She had found it one day, lying in a box in her grandmother's attic and kept it accidentally. It sat on a shelf for years before, after one particularly difficult couple, she’d discovered its true purpose.
The therapist picked up the idol and sighed, running her fingers over the rune at the back and quietly whispering her client's names to it. Only time would tell whether this was a mistake or what form Matthew and Caroline’s changes would take.
Caroline knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. Firstly, she was tired, and always scheduled herself perfectly to ensure she always got exactly eight hours sleep both for her mental capacity and to avoid premature aging. Secondly, her head was pounding; it had been over ten years since her last hangover, but she remembered the feeling clearly. She never had more than two glasses of red wine a night for this exact reason, so how the hell did she have a hangover?
With a groan, she pushed herself up and felt her hair fall over her face. Every night she brushed her hair till it was silk smooth; then tied it in a neat sleeping bun to speed up her morning routine, but today it was like a rat's nest. She tried to run her fingers through it and got caught in knots in less than a second.
“Ugh, what the hell?”
She pulled the stringy, dyed locks in front of her eyes with confusion. Her natural white blonde had turned an ugly shade of bleached platinum, the colour that only came from years of abuse with peroxide at cheap hairdressers.
“Mmmm, shhhh it’s too early…” moaned a voice beside her.
Caroline froze: she didn’t know that voice, but one thing was for certain; it wasn't her husband. She grabbed the blankets and flung them away, revealing a curvaceous, olive-skinned woman with smooth, dark hair that made Caroline want to scream with jealousy.
“Who the hell are you?” Caroline screeched, “That bastard! Get out! How dare he, I bet you fucking drugged me or something!”
She grabbed a pillow and started to beat the woman with it as she rolled out of bed in shock.
“Ow! Caroline, what the hell has gotten into you!” The woman cried, holding up her hands in defence. “Wait, who the hell are you?”
“Who am I?! I am the woman whose husband you stole, you tart!”
The woman held up her hands, frantically hitting the pillow away as Caroline continued to hit her with it. She looked utterly confused, but Caroline wasn't buying it. This woman must have been quite the actor.
“...Caroline? Is that you? What’s wrong with your face?”
The nerve of this woman! First, she sweet-talked her way into bed with them, and now she was insulting her! She held fast to the pillow and continued to wave it like a weapon.
“Get out! Get out!”
“What’s gotten into-ahhhh!”
The woman wobbled like newborn deer then fell onto her plump ass; she was far more full figured than Caroline and she felt envy burn in her veins. The woman blinked in confusion, looked down at herself in confusion and screamed.
“What’s going on!? Why do I have breasts? What is this nightgown? Carol, what’s going on!?”
“Caroline.” She corrected out of habit, then had a realisation. “Wait, the only person who ever called me Carol is…Matthew?”
“Yeah, obviously!” the woman cried. “Who else would I be, but why do I look like this, and why do you look so…different?”
Caroline tried to purse her lips, but the motion felt…wrong, like her lips were swollen. Flyaways of that damaged hair floated in the corners of her vision, and she rushed over to the vanity to check what else had changed, and felt her heart sink. Her lips were fuller; the kind of full that only came from botox, and there were smudges of cheap blue eyeshadow still left on her face, along with thick mascara and clumpy lip balm. She never slept in makeup on, her pores would be blocked! Hell, she never wore make-up this tacky, and before she could stop herself:
“The fuck!?”
Caroline slammed her hands over her face in shock, and the strange woman, who was apparently her husband, gaped.
“Caroline, did you just swear? Since when are you so uncouth?”
Caroline laughed despite herself.
“Uncouth? Since when do you use five-dollar words like that?”
“Since you got lip filler and a bad dye job, apparently.”
“This is no time for jokes!”
“Why not? This is obviously some sort of weird dream.” Matthew shrugged, pushing himself off the floor and standing to admire his new body in the mirror. “I guess it could be worse, I certainly look lovely…”
Caroline felt the veins in her forehead bulge in annoyance. This was just like him, fancy new words aside, not taking anything seriously. She looked at herself in the mirror again; she was such a mess, she didn't even know where to start. The idea of washing and brushing all that tangled hair made her feel exhausted, as did scrubbing the makeup off. Normally, she was far more motivated in the morning, but this was such a big job she didn't know where to start. She’d do it later, after she’d figured out what was happening.
Caroline left Matthew to admire himself and began to look around the house; everything was wrong. There was barely any furniture, and brown packing boxes piled up at the edge of each doorway. She ran her fingers over one Matthew's mementos for a second before ripping into it with her now long, fake nails. They had to be good for something. Inside were photos that should have been familiar: vacations she and Matthew had taken together, their wedding albums, and photo books, but…they were all off.
Caroline held their gilded wedding photo in her shaky hands, trying to make sense of it. Instead of Matthew in the crisp black suit she’d picked out; there was the woman he’d turned into, wearing an elegant, silky A-line dress. Her arms were wrapped around another woman with badly dyed blonde hair and a poofy ball gown with far too many rhinestones. It was her; or at least the version she’d seen in the mirror a few minutes ago.
Every other photo was the same: the glamorous dark haired beauty, and her new tacky self. After a few minutes of digging, she even found their documents folder; the one she insisted they keep things like birth and wedding certificates in. Every single one listed Caroline and Matilda; not a ‘Matthew’ to be found.
What’s more, she found a group of papers on the kitchen table with her new high-profile job offer, but for Matilda, not her! Along with an RV rental and a new address in the city, a few days' drive from here.
“This is so fucking weird…”
“Again with the potty mouth.”
Caroline spun around, and her jaw dropped. There was Matthew, Matilda, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a matching silk shirt that showed off just enough cleavage to be feminine without looking unprofessional. Her makeup was subtle yet flawless, and a pair of elegant diamonds hung from her ears. That long, dark hair had been fixed into an updo that would be impossible with Caroline’s current bushy nightmare. In short, she looked like she was ready to have lunch with the president and that jealousy Caroline felt earlier tripled.
“How did you do that?”
“What, this?” Matilda patted at the hair, “I’m not sure, it just sort of came to me. I kept waiting to wake up, but I never did.”
“Well, look what I found.”
She flashed the papers, and Matthew looked over them with a curious expression.
“It looks like I have your job…and we’re moving to the city so I can take it, but we’re doing a road trip to get there…”
“Also…you’re a woman!”
“Yeah, that too.”
“Why aren’t you freaking out!?”
Caroline stamped her foot down hard and winced; she was supposed to be the one in control, not a hot head. But this situation was too much, and the fact that Matthew was cool as a cucumber was only making things worse.
“Panicking won’t help.” He shrugged, looking over the documents, “I don’t know how this happened, but it must be something we did, go get ready and we’ll retrace our steps from yesterday and see if we find anything.”
“How is that going to help?”
“It’s better than standing here, stomping around like a teenager.”
Caroline balled her hands into fists, ignoring the sharp pain from her fake nails as she did so. She racked her brain, trying to think of anything that could cause this.
“It had to be the therapist, right? Talking about walking in one another's shoes and all that?”
“Shouldn’t you be a man then?”
“I don’t know!” She threw up her hands in frustration, “Nothing about this bloody situation makes any sort of sense.”
“True, I will call the office and see if she can see us.”
“Screw that, I am walking in there no matter what they say!”
“Acting that way will get us nowhere fast.”
Caroline just huffed before stomping loudly up the stairs to go change. There was something satisfying about it; she couldn’t help but wish she were in heels, or something that would make a satisfying lick as she slammed her feet into the floor. Her cheeks flared with embarrassment, she knew she was acting childish but the unfairness of this situation was getting to her. Why did Matthew get turned into a beautiful, full figured, classy woman? Why not her? She was already two of those things anyway!
As she ascended the stairs she vowed to not let Matthew be the bigger person, no matter how hard it was! Returning to the bedroom only highlighted more changes; their walk-in closet was almost comical; one side elegant dresses and business suits, the other looked like it belonged to a rodeo clown and a stripper.
Naturally, she went to the classy side to find something just as elegant as Matthew, but it felt strangely…wrong. So much beige, black and silver, the occasional pop of colour, but nothing that felt right. Caroline tried to ignore the siren call of brightly coloured clothes on the racks behind her, but it was impossible, and before she knew it, she was holding up a mini dress made of something shiny and purple, linked together with golden hoops.
She’d never worn anything so skimpy, and yet it felt strangely freeing. The dress was so tight she didn't even need a bra; the fabric pressed taut against her tits, pushing them together in a way that made them look twice as big. The purple strappy heels complemented the look perfectly, and she couldn't help but grin widely as she admired herself in the mirror.
“Now, to deal with my hair…”
Brushing it would take far too long, but maybe if she teased it up, the wild hair would look more deliberate. Half a can later, it was floating around her head like a platinum halo, and frankly, it looked pretty good.
“Not bad, considering what I have to work with…”
A voice echoed up the stairs.
“Caroline? Are you ready? I want to get going!”
“Coming!”
She pursed her fat lips at her reflection; taking all that make-up off was going to take too long. A little voice in her head was screaming that layering make-up was bad for her skin, but she ignored it and quickly reapplied the eyeshadow and lip gloss. It looked a little rough, but that was fine. Well-worn looks were in; it suited her. Matthew was waiting by the front door, fiddling with her earrings in the hall mirror when she appeared.
“Oh! You’re ready!”
“Yeah, ya told me to hurry up.”
“It’s just…I didn't think you actually would. Normally, it takes you twice as long to get ready in the morning.”
“You’re right…”
Caroline mused, If she did this every day, she could probably get an extra hour of sleep. That didn’t sound so bad, especially if, for whatever reason, Matthew was the one who had to go to the office now. They hopped into the car, and she watched her reflection in the side view mirror, trying really hard not to like it.
~
Dr. Rahman took a deep breath, savouring the smell of the hot mug of tea in her hands. The idol on her desk glowed faintly, its magic still lingering as reality settled into its new norm. One useful side effect of the idol was that she remembered both realities. Still, waking up this morning with memories of Matthew and Caroline, as well as the lesbian couple version of them, was… disconcerting.
She watched as their car pulled up outside her office and took a deep drink from her tea; odds were it would be cold by the time they were done. She’d only used this spell on a handful of other couples; almost all of them figure out she’s the key at some point; props to Caroline and Matthew for figuring it out so quickly.
She watched as the couple stepped out of the car; the once classy, cold, Caroline now looked more like trailer trash, and her husband now the picture of a sophisticated business elite. Even though she logically knew what was coming, it was hard not to be surprised; she expected them to switch bodies, or perhaps sexes, becoming a chalk and cheese lesbian couple hadn’t been on her bingo card.
Dr. Rahman sat herself down at her desk and took another deep sip from her mug, savouring the last seconds of silence until the door slammed open. Caroline looked ready to throw down, and Dr. Rahman smiled as she spoke before either could get a word in.
“I think I know why you’re here.”
~
“What do you mean you can’t reverse it!?”
Caroline was so red in the face she could have made a tomato jealous. Matthew was angry as well, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to yell. Instead, he sat, ankles together, hands folded in his lap neatly, silently fuming.
“I can’t control how the magic will manifest, only that it will help you understand one another.”
“How does turning me into a snob help me understand her?” Matthew asked, wrinkling his nose, “especially now that she’s the least snobby person I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasn't in the mood to deal with all this,” Caroline tugged at her teased hair, “this morning, considering all that’s happened. Besides, reality is all wrong! Now he’s got my job opportunity, I worked so damn hard for that! And what, now he just gets it while I do freelance work at home? It’s not fair!”
“Maybe that’s part of it.” Dr. Rahman shrugged, “Maybe Matthew will appreciate how hard your job is, and this RV trip you’ve got planned to get these might help you get back to nature like he wanted.”
“But why is he a woman?!” Caroline demanded, and Dr. Rahman lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose and gave her a knowing smile.
“Perhaps some denied bisexual feelings of yours?”
Matthew felt his jaw threaten to drop, but held it back. Caroline’s face went from red to purple, and she stomped so hard he was worried her heel would break.
“I bet you’re gettin’ off on this, ain’t ya?”
“Ain't isn’t a word, darling.” He corrected before he could stop himself.
“I know that!” She snapped, looking embarrassed, “It’s this magic making me all…like this! Well, I won’t be putting up with it!”
“I’m afraid you have to.” Dr. Rahman pointed out, “I can't undo it. The magic will come undone when you’re ready, and if you want it to.”
“I very much do!”
“Well then, you just need to be ready, and it will.”
“What does that even mean?! Matthew, would you please get on my side for once?”
He blinked and bit his lip.
“Look, I agree, this is sh-bad, but what will getting angry do? It just makes you look childish. If Dr. Rahman can't fix it, we’ll just have to do as she says.”
“Ugh, you think you’re so much better than me.”
Caroline stormed out and Matthew bit the inside of his cheek. He could see her point of view, part of him wanted to yell and scream as well but something, perhaps the magic, held him back.
It was this odd compulsion to act proper; it was the same new instinct that had guided him to the closet this morning and gotten him dressed. He’d put on a bra as easily as blinking, and the make-up and hair came naturally. Sitting in front of that mirror and putting his face on for the first time felt so surreal.
He stared at his new eyelashes as the mascara gently curled them away from his eyes, then took in the gentle slope of his jaw. He was gorgeous, that was for certain, and it was oddly therapeutic to layer the make-up on until he looked just right. For the first time, he understood how Caroline could sit there for hours adjusting her lips and blush.
He could taste it now, the slight bitterness of that lipstick, thanks to biting his lips earlier. The room was silent, just him, Dr. Rahman and her cooling cup of tea. He stood, brushed off his pants and gave her an awkward smile.
“I suppose I should go after her.”
“Probably a good idea.”
~
Matthew settled back into the RV's leather seats with a grin on his face. His posture was perfect in this new body, all the better for driving long distances. Their house was all packed up, their bags in the small bedroom at the back, and they were ready to hit the road. Magic compulsions be damned: he was excited!
This was exactly what he’d been telling Caroline they needed, a real shake-up. This trip was going to be perfect. By the end of it, Caroline would be begging to live this way permanently, and he wouldn't ever have to step foot in that high-rise office she was so jealous of. Caroline was hunched over with her arms crossed, feet up against the dashboard, sulking.
“Come on, this is going to be great!”
They drove. And Drove…and drove. The straight, boring highway stretched out before them, and Matthew felt his brain starting to melt with boredom. He knew living the RV life would involve a lot of driving, but he’d imagined it being more…scenic.
“Why are you turning off?” Caroline asked as he exited onto the mountain road.
“Adventure!” He grinned. Don't worry; this road still goes in the right direction, but it passes by the lakes! We can stay there tonight. Just imagine how romantic it’ll be, moonlight on the lakes.”
Caroline pressed her fat lips together and didn't say a word. The smooth road finished and they landed on gravel. The road was so rough it made his whole body, and the RV, vibrate. Matthew felt his teeth chattering, his new breasts bouncing and his ass jiggling in the seat. It felt awful! No matter how he held himself, it felt like his whole body was a wobbling plate of jelly. Why did women have to have so many bits that jiggled?
He forced a smile and turned to Caroline, ready to tell her how fun this was when she inevitably complained. But then he saw her face; her eyes were wide, but her smile was wider. She was grinning ear to ear in utter delight. She was finally sitting forward and didn't seem the least bit concerned that her breasts were almost falling out of her shirt with the movement.
“Wooohooo!”
Matthew had never heard her cry out in joy like that. Not once.
“This is amazing! Go faster!” She cheered.
Secretly, he was glad when they finally arrived at the lakeside and he could stop the RV. His bones felt like they were still vibrating with the rumble of the road, and his new tits were sore from wll the moving they did. Still, he wasn't about to let Caroline know that, instead, he threw open the RV door dramatically.
“Look at that view,” he said, gesturing toward the shimmering lake just beyond their site. The water sparkled in the fading light, and the forest around them felt thick and alive. He jumped down and immediately wobbled as his heels sank straight into the soft ground. Matthew flailed, trying hard to keep his balance and failing miserably as he fell face first into the mud.
“Oh!” He shrieked before he could stop himself, “This is silk! It’ll never come out!”
Caroline followed him outside, somehow not struggling at all to walk on the soft ground.
“You’ve got three more just like it, you can change,” she shrugged. “It’s beautiful, Matthew. I’ll give you that.”
Matthew cleared his throat and tried to ignore the mud on his nice new clothes.
As Matthew worked to set up the camp, a series of small disappointments began to unfold. The bugs that got in his face, the strong smell of pine made him dizzy, and one of his heels snapped trying to gather firewood. Matthew bit his lip as he looked at his delicate hands; the manicured nails were all chipped, and he had a splinter in his thumb. By the time he finished setting up the septic and all the other chores related to camping, Matthew had come to one, devastating conclusion.
He hated camping.
But he couldn’t admit it—not to Caroline, at least. He had been the one who’d pushed for this. He had been the one who’d dreamed of the great outdoors, of fireside chats and starlit skies. To tell her now that he hated it—hated the discomfort, the noise, the whole idea of camping—would be a blow to his pride. So he smiled through it, pretending everything was just as perfect as he had imagined.
Caroline, on the other hand, was in her element. She set up a little campfire by the lake, her movements graceful and unhurried. She seemed to appreciate every moment—the smell of the campfire, the fresh air, the gentle rustling of the trees. Every time she caught Matthew looking, she’d put on a sour face, but he could tell she was genuinely enjoying this, and that only made things worse.
Matthew sat near the fire, rubbing his sore back, and watched her work. She hummed softly to herself as she laid out the blankets and chairs.
“See?” he said, gesturing to the campfire and the lake. “This is what I’ve been telling you about. Isn’t it perfect? Wouldn't it be great to live this way?”
Even as he said, Matthew realised it sounded like hell on Earth.
“I think I’ll turn in early tonight,” he said, standing up abruptly. “Big day tomorrow, right?”
“Right.” Caroline said, “It’s a three-day trip after all.”
Three days. Matthew suddenly had visions of a comfortable first class flight; a few hours of quiet luxury in the sky that ended in a taxi ride to their new home. They’d be there already; just the thought made him want to weep for joy. Instead, he put on a brave face and climbed into the RV, which was so much more cramped than he’d expected.
The RV bed, which he had imagined as a cozy haven after a long day of hiking and exploring, was rock hard. The foam mattress sagged in the middle, pressing into his back in a way that made him wince every time he adjusted. His new, wide hips dug into the mattress, making it impossible to get comfortable. The cicadas began their evening songs, their buzzing filling the air, and Matthew, instead of finding it soothing, found himself irritated by the relentless sound. Every time he tried to relax, a new annoyance seemed to crop up. The bugs. The smell of pine. The incessant, gnawing feeling that this wasn’t exactly the peaceful escape he had imagined. Worst of all, that Caroline had been right. And if there was one thing Matthew would never do, it was give her the satisfaction of knowing it.
~
The cicadas were chirping as Caroline sat by the lakeside. She was trying hard to find the sound annoying, but in truth, it was relaxing. She felt her gaze constantly moving upwards to admire the stars; so many of them, thousands. She had no idea the night sky could look so beautiful. After all his talk of getting back to nature, Caroline couldn’t believe Matthew had decided to turn in early; she felt energised just being here. No matter how much she tried to find something to hate, she just couldn’t. The quiet, the serenity of nature, it was all too perfect.
Laughter carried on the wind, and she felt her gaze drawn to the other side of the lake. A small cabin had the lights on; some sort of campground commissary or something. Voices echoed out of the warm windows, and before she knew it, she walked around the water's edge towards them.
Inside was not what she was expecting; a pool table, a bartop and a small commissary over in the corner. Half a dozen other campers laughed, drank, and played darts across the room. A few heads turned when she walked in, and Caroline suddenly remembered her trashy appearance. Her cheeks turned pink, and she felt the urge to flee back into the dark, but refused. She didn't care what that hack therapist said; she may have been magically transformed into this trailer trash body, but that didn’t mean she had to act like it.
She sashayed up to the bar, lifted her chin, and consciously tried not to let any bad grammar slip into her words.
“I’ll have your finest wine, please.” She fluttered her lashes at the bartender.
The bartender snorted and picked an old-looking bottle off the wall; she recognised the brand. It was hardly the rich French reds she dreamed about affording with her new job, but it was nice enough. Caroline sipped delicately, her pinky finger extended.
“Mmm,” she said, using all her self-control not to pull a face.
The wine was awful, dry and dull. A group of campers in flannel and cutoffs were laughing loudly around the pool table, downing pitchers of beer and hollering about someone’s failed attempt at backing an RV into a slot. Caroline’s eyes kept drifting over. There were bottles in their hands; cheap beer that she could somehow smell from across the room. She’d never liked beer before, but now it swelled heavenly.
“Y’know what? Screw this. Gimme a beer. Coldest one you got.” The bartender grinned and slid her a long-neck bottle.
Caroline took one sip and sighed like she’d just kicked off high heels after a six-hour wedding. It was cold, crisp, and tasted like freedom. The classy act cracked and fell away like cheap acrylic nails. With a wild grin, she stomped over to the pool table, slapped a quarter down.
“Y’all ready to get whooped?”
What followed was a blur of laughter, cussing, and table-slapping that ended in a wad of wrinkled bills in Caroline’s hand. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep her in beers for the next game. She grabbed another bottle and stuffed the remaining bills into her cleavage, which earned her some disapproving looks from the few other women in the room. Caroline scoffed.
“Look how tight these pants are, I ain’t got no pockets and with tits this big and fake I may as well use them!”
“I’ll drink to that!” One of the men snickered, and Caroline gave him a wink.
A little voice in the back of her head was screaming at her to stop, to have a single drop of dignity, but she didn't listen. Dignity was overrated; she’d been so high strung for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to let loose. Nobody expected a woman who looked like her to be perfect; no weight, no expectations, no worries.
She positioned the pool cue behind her back to do a trick shot; pushing her chest out further and feeling the dollar bills crinkle in her cleavage. She was just about to hit the ball when a voice called out, and her hands slipped, spreading a line of chalk across the table.
“Caroline!”
“Matt-uh, Matilda?”
Matthew was standing in the doorway, dressed in a silk nightie and dressing gown that looked painfully out of place in their rustic surroundings. Her eyes were ablaze as she stalked across the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing pool.”
“With money in your cleavage!?”
“Well, where else is she supposed to put it?” the same drunk guy called and a few others whistled, making Caroline giggle.
“We’re going back to the RV.” Matthew said, grabbing her wrist.
“Awwwww…”
Matthew half dragged Caroline back around the lake, fussing with the hem of his dressing gown the whole time, trying to keep it out of the mud. By the time they reached the RV, Caroline’s cheeks were bright pink with embarrassment. What had she been thinking, acting like that?
“Do you have any idea how embarrassed I am?” Matthew said as they clambered up into the RV. “Finding my wife acting like some sort of…redneck stripper in a camp ground bar?”
“I wasn’t stripping! I was just playing pool, well.”
“And drinking.”
“That beer was weak as piss.”
Matthew’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and Caroline felt her cheeks burn hotter.
“I can’t help it!” She cried, “It just feels so nice to let my hair down and not be so…perfect all the time. Don’t you feel invigorated being out here in all the fresh air? I never realised how much nicer the air is outside the city…”
Matthew pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Well, don’t get too used to it, we’re heading to the city, remember.”
Caroline did her best not to look disappointed; she would never give Matthew the satisfaction of knowing how right he’d been about RV life. Or how, after just one night away, she was already dreading going back to the city.
“Let’s go to bed and…ugh, get rid of those!”
Matthew snatched the money from between her breasts and put it on the counter. Even in the low light, Caroline could see the blush spreading across Matthews' cheeks and she grinned. Fuelled by the alcohol in her veins she stepped forward.
She smirked, her lips stained with lipstick that had probably smeared halfway through the night. Matthew’s sharp eyes narrowed, but Caroline could see the flicker of something else in them—something Matthew would never admit to. And that realisation made those new urges come on all the stronger; she shed her embarrassment from earlier and once again embraced what the magic had given her.
“Aw, honey, you love it. Admit it. You love watchin’ me act like a damn fool.” She took a step closer, “You love it when I’m trashy. Don’tcha?”
Matthew’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he grabbed Caroline’s wrist, his grip firmer this time, and pulled her deeper into the RV. Caroline stumbled, her body pressing against Matthew’s as they moved toward the tiny bedroom at the back. The RV creaked with every step, and she felt the heat on her face start to spread to her entire body. Only this time, it was shame that was causing it.
“You’re impossible,” Matthew muttered, shoving Caroline onto the narrow mattress. It sagged under her weight, the springs groaning in protest. Caroline sprawled out, her legs dangling over the edge, and grinned up at Matthew.
“Impossible? Or irresistible?” Caroline teased, her voice low and husky. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she loved every second of it. Matthew’s composure had been so composed since this all began, but Caroline knew how to crack it. She knew how to make him lose control.
Matthew’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress.
“You’re insufferable,” she said, but his voice had softened, the edge replaced with something warmer. Caroline could see the desire in her, the way her chest rose and fell just a little faster.
Caroline reached out, her fingers brushing the hem of Matthew’s nightie.
“Come on, Matthew. Admit it. You love it when I’m trashy.”
She tugged at Matthew’s dressing gown, pulling it loose so that it pooled on the thin mattress. Matthew let her, his hands moving to Caroline’s hips, holding her steady as she leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met, hungry and desperate, Matthew’s taste a mix of expensive lipstick and something sweeter.
Caroline moaned, her hands sliding up Matthew’s back, her nails digging into the soft fabric of her nightie. It was true, though she’d never admit it, she’d always had a thing for girls, the truth was she could take men or women and find them equally attractive. But being with a woman came with extra hurdles in life, so she’d taken the easier route. And at first, that had been fine, but now she got the best of both worlds: a lesbian experience and her husband.
Matthew groaned in response, his kisses growing more frantic, more demanding. Caroline could feel Matthew’s desperation the way his body trembled against hers, and it fueled her own need. She wanted to make Matthew lose himself, to strip away that polished exterior and reveal the man, or woman, who craved her. Matthew’s hands found her breasts and she gasped.
“They're so firm…” Muttered Matthew, tweaking one of the nipples.
His hands became rougher, squeezing her firmly and making Caroline see stars. Matthew’s eyes flashed, and he grabbed Caroline’s wrist, pinning it to the mattress.
“That wasn’t very ladylike.” Caroline teased.
“Shut up.”
With that, Matthew leaned down, his mouth trailing kisses along Caroline’s neck, her collarbone, her chest. Caroline arched her back, her moans filling the cramped space. Matthew’s hands were everywhere, tugging at Caroline’s clothes, sliding down her sides, his touch both rough and reverent. Caroline felt exposed, vulnerable, and she loved it. It had been so long since they’d had sex like this, with actual passion. It was still a fight for dominance, but it seemed less angry now, more passionate.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Matthew murmured, her lips brushing against Caroline’s breast. “Even when you’re a mess.”
Caroline laughed, her hands tangling in Matthew’s hair.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Matthew obliged, his mouth pressing against Caroline’s once more, their kisses deep and desperate. Caroline could feel Matthew’s desire, the way his body moved against hers, and she wanted more. Their breasts pressed together; her firm ones against Matthew’s soft.
“You’re so classy,” Caroline teased, her fingers tracing the lace of Matthew’s underwear. “Even your underwear’s fancy.”
Matthew rolled her eyes, but Caroline could see the amusement in them.
“I said, Shut up, Caroline.”
“Make me,” Caroline challenged, her voice low and inviting.
Matthew didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Caroline’s wrists, pinning them above her head, and leaned down, his mouth trailing kisses along Caroline’s body. Caroline squirmed, her moans growing louder as Matthew’s lips moved lower, his tongue teasing, his teeth nibbling. The RV’s mattress creaked beneath them, and the firm mattress held her in place, trapping her between her lover's body and the bed.
“You like that, don’t you?” Matthew murmured, her breath hot against Caroline’s skin. “You like being trashy.”
Caroline didn’t want to admit it. It was so freeing to not worry about what other people thought. She said nothing, but her face betrayed her. Matthew smiled, a wicked, triumphant smile, and his mouth moved lower still, his tongue tracing patterns that made Caroline’s toes curl.
Caroline cried out, her body tensing as pleasure washed over her, wave after wave of it. She could feel Matthew’s hands on her, holding her steady, guiding her, and she surrendered to it, to her, to the raw, unfiltered desire that bound them together.
Caroline shuddered and came as Matthew’s tongue circled her clit; her eyes rolling back in her head. The RV’s cramped space, the thin walls, the hard mattress—none of it mattered. In that moment, for the first time in years, it was just them.
As Caroline came down from her high, Matthew leaned over her, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling. Caroline smiled, her fingers tracing the lines of Matthew’s face.
“You’re a mess,” she whispered, echoing Matthew’s earlier words.
Matthew laughed, a soft, genuine sound.
“So are you.”
“Can you blame me, fuck.”
“That mouth of yours is getting filthier by the day.”
“Want this filthy mouth to show you a thing or two?”
Before Matthew could protest she was pushing against him, he was back on his feet, pressed up against the Rv wall, legs spread as she feasted on his new pussy. The sounds that echoed through the cramped RV weren’t very ladylike at all.
~
Matthew woke up with a sore…everything. His breasts were crushed against the hard mattress and his back ached. His whole body felt like it was bruised from tossing and turning; the only pleasant feeling was the tingle that lingered after an orgasm. One of the benefits of being tuned into a woman. With a groan of frustration, he rolled over and immediately fell off the tiny mattress, into the sliver of space between the bed and the wall.
“Ow! Women have no many bits to bump, fucks sake.”
Matthew pulled himself up only to find Caroline sitting up with an annoyingly rested expression on her face as she stretched. She’d look beatific, if it weren't for the disaster zone that was her hair and make-up. Wild tangles, smudged colours; she looked like a walking Picasso.
“I haven’t slept that well in months.” She sighed dreamily before catching Matthew staring. “Anyway, we should get driving, right? Don’t want to be late for your new job.”
Driving this hulking brick sounded like hell, but Matthew forced a smile, which immediately dropped when Caroline mentioned the job.
“What are we going to do, Carol?” he asked. “I barely know how to be a woman. I know nothing about being a financial advisor, let alone to a big company! I’ll lose the position for sure!”
“If you do, I guess we’d have to go back to this.”
Matthew would rather jump into a pit of hungry piranhas.
“But it's technically your job. When we figure out how to change back, do you really want to have been fired for incompetence?”
If there was one thing Caroline couldn’t stand, it was being seen as less than perfect. Even with her new compulsions, her eyebrow twitched in irritation; magic could only change so much.
“I suppose I could teach you, a crash course at least.”
“Thank you! Uh, what are you doing?”
She was rifling around for a pen and paper.
“Getting stuff for notes.”
“Shouldn’t we get dressed and shower first?”
“What difference would it make?”
Matthew grimaced. He remembered saying something like that himself once and it made him shudder in disgust.
“I’m going to shower and dress.”
Caroline shrugged.
“Why? It’s just us here.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Well, don't use too much water. We only have enough for two-minute showers each day.”
“Very efficient.” Matthew forced that smile wider. “I love that. It’s better for the environment.”
Part of Matthew had expected showering as a woman to be a pleasurable experience, what with all those extra curves for the water to flow down. Instead, the water was lukewarm, and his nipples were painfully hard from the cold. He was actually glad to get dressed and cover up. Caroline was waiting, ready to teach him the ins and outs of finance, something he’d always found boring, but to his surprise, it didn’t take long to grasp.
That was how the next few days passed. Long drives that jiggled Matthew’s body all over the place, broken up by lessons on how to do Caroline’s job. Before, hearing about all those numbers had bored him to tears, but now there was something comforting about them. Something had finally clicked, and it was he who had to keep Caroline from getting bored and distracted. She took every opportunity to delay, stopping them at every scenic outlook and nature walk they passed.
Honestly, once they’d done a single hike, Matthew’s feet ached and every view looked more or less the same. All that time he’d spent dreaming of van life suddenly felt silly and overly romanticised, just like Caroline had always said. That had to be her game right now; she was trying to force him to admit how bad it was living like this. It was the only reason she’d act so enthusiastic about yet another walk. But Matthew held his ground, forcing his smiles; he wouldn’t let her be right.
~
Three days later, they finally pulled up outside a glittering skyscraper in the centre of the business district. Matthew had almost wept for joy when he saw the city in the distance and finally got back on the smooth highway. After days of rocky off roads it felt like driving on glass.
He felt his cheeks burn slightly with embarrassment as he stepped off the dirt covered RV; it looked distinctly out of place among the designer cars parked along the street. The apartment valet looked sick to his stomach when Caroline jumped down and tossed him the key.
Speaking of out of place.
While Matthew was dressed in a modest pair of slacks and another silk shirt, Caroline was wearing Daisy Dukes and had her shirt tied in a knot to the side. Several people eyed her as they entered the lobby, but she just rolled her eyes.
“It’s hot!”
“So maybe wear something that breathes, like I did?”
“And wear beige on beige? No thanks.”
Matthew took the lead and signed them in at the front desk, trying not to cry with relief when the clerk handed over their brand-new apartment key. If he ever saw another RV again, it would be too soon. Stepping into the plush, velvet-lined, mirrored elevator felt like a dream, and he had to hold back tears when they finally walked into the apartment.
It was the epitome of modern; all black, silver and white with shiny benchtops, a smart fridge and a giant king-sized bed in the bedroom. Matthew fell onto his face first and moaned in delight at its softness. It didn’t even hurt his breasts lying face down; he could stomach sleep again!
“Wow, this place sure is something,” Caroline said with a smile that seemed just a little bit forced. “So much nicer than that RV, huh? Guess I was right.”
“The RV was wonderful,” Matthew lied, still face down in the blankets. “I’ll miss the fresh air. Imagine all the places we could go if we lived in one all the time.”
“Well…we don’t.” Caroline replied, “And you start my dream job tomorrow. Im so jealous.”
“Ah, yes,” He tried not to sound so excited; after so many days on the road, the idea of being in a clean, beautiful office sounded like heaven. “And you get to work from home, that’ll be nice for you.”
“Mmmm…”
~
By the time the elevator chimed on the thirty-fourth floor, Matthew’s hands were sweating inside the delicate leather gloves he’d picked out this morning. Caroline had waved him off, wishing him luck with an odd look in her eye; probably jealousy. This was her dream job after all.
“Fake it till you make it, Matthew.” He whispered to his reflection.
He was still getting used to the new appearance: the dark hair in a chignon, sharp-angled navy blazer hugging curves that he was growing ever fonder of and a string of pearls that swayed softly against a pressed blouse.
The doors opened, and his heels clicked against the floor as he headed for his new office. Heads turned as he walked past rows of glass cubicles and muted phone conversations. Women offered approving nods, and a few men straightened slightly, their eyes doing quick but courteous look-overs.
“Morning, Matilda. Love the shoes.” Greeted one man
Without thinking, Matthew smiled and batted his eyelids.
“Thanks. Italian leather. Murder on the toes, though.”
The employee chuckled, and Matthew tried very hard not to feel flattered by the way his eyes slipped downwards just for a moment before he walked away.
He made it to the office and gasped in delight; it was airy and spacious; the exact opposite of the RV. He sat down and took a breath. He’d made a plan for this, a binder filled with everything he needed to know. His schedule was perfectly organised. The digital calendar was colour-coded, and the files for the 10:30 quarterly strategy meeting were ready to go. He adjusted the seat and crossed his legs carefully to avoid snagging the pantyhose.
Then he dove in. And to his surprise, it wasn’t just bearable. It was fascinating. He had always been good with numbers, and with Caroline’s prep, the asset portfolio review came naturally. He found himself asking insightful questions, rebalancing a few accounts, even suggesting a tax strategy that had a junior advisor taking furious notes.
By the time lunch rolled around, Matthew was riding a quiet high. He checked his reflection in the office window; flawless make-up, impeccable posture, sharp, elegant Matilda. This…felt incredible. It was the power, the grace, the way people listened. What had he been thinking? Wanting to live out in the dirt, in a cramped car instead of this? An assistant placed a rich, roasted coffee on his desk with a wink and Matthew smiled, taking a sip and moaning in delight. This was the life. Purpose, power, beauty.
The only thing that ruined it was Caroline’s voice in the back of his mind saying ‘I told you so’.
~
The penthouse was quiet. Caroline sat at her laptop, trying to work, but it felt so different. She was used to busy offices, squeezing every second between meetings to avoid any work pileup. Now, she was working from home, a lovely home high in the sky, with no coworkers, no meetings, no client emails to respond to, just simple editing work due by the end of the month.
In this reality, she worked from home, at her own pace, and Caroline realised she had no idea what that pace was. How was she supposed to focus with so much freedom? The editing work was easy too, much easier than her accounting had been. It was almost relaxing, sitting there, watching the cars below as she typed away. Before she knew it, she was done for the day, and it was barely lunchtime.
“I could do some extra I suppose…” She muttered, but that thought made her recoil.
She leaned back in her seat, feeling her ass squish against the chair. It took a few minutes for it to truly sink in; she had the rest of the day to do whatever she wanted.
For a while, she wandered their new apartment; it was everything she thought she wanted before. Sleek, shiny…sterile. Matthew’s cupboard was filled with beautiful and boring designer clothes. The sort of thing she’d worn every day, or at least the knock-off versions. She’d dreamed of having the real thing. And yet now…she felt more comfortable in cut-offs.
“That’s the problem.” She whispered, “I just need to make myself fit in.”
She’d been indulging these trashy impulses for far too long, it was time to do something about it. Once she was back to her old self, or as close as she could get with these fake tits and fat lips, she would feel more at home here. Lucky her, she had the entire afternoon to herself.
The salon was glossy and white, the receptionist poured her a glass of cucumber water as she walked in with an awkward smile. It hadn't occurred to Caroline that perhaps this place would look down on her strutting in wearing leopard-print leggings and a neon tank top that said “Bless This Mess” in sequins. Heads turned; she ignored them. After her hair and nails were fixed, she’d get some proper clothes.
First up: the nails. The technician managed to unglue the fake, neon blue ones, then trimmed and filed her talons into soft ovals, then started painting them a pale, elegant beige with French tips. Caroline looked at them and tried not to feel sad; they just looked so plain. Her stomach twisted; no, she had to fight the impulse, she would look classy again!
It was no use.
“Could we maybe do somethin’... zazzier?” She asked, the words practically burst out of her.
“How zazzy?”
“Let’s make the polish brighter. Maybe a few rhinestones? I like a little sparkle when I flip the bird.”
By the time her nails were done, they looked like a disco ball exploded on them, and she was thrilled. Once again, Caroline realised how futile it was; why make herself miserable? It wasn't like Matthew was here to see her indulge.
“Perm it.” She said, flicking her teased hair. “I want bounce. A lot of bounce.”
Two hours and a whole lotta chemicals later, her hair was curled, teased, and sprayed into a fluffy cloud. She didn't look very different to when she came in, but Caroline did feel a certain sense of contentment.
Then came the bill.
“This gotta be a prank, right? Did y’all charge me for rent too?”
She handed over her debit card with shaking fingers and left the salon with her rhinestone nails gripping a crumpled receipt. At least she felt good. Her plan to buy designer clothes and ‘fit in’ with their new fancy city life was out the window now. She looked at the designer stores from the outside and scoffed.
“Who wants to pay six hundred dollars to look like oatmeal?”
Instead, she made a beeline for the department store, found a pair of hot pink stilettos in the clearance bin for twenty-nine ninety-nine, and strutted out like she owned the place. They had a satisfying click as they hit the pavement, and the angle of the heels made her but sway side to side as she walked. She might not have spent it, but she felt like a million dollars.
Then, her phone rang. It was Matthew.
“Yeah?”
“The boss gave me a welcome gift, a reservation at some fancy French place. I don’t really want to go…but I think we should. Not to be rude.”
Caroline forced a smile as she looked at herself, trying to imagine this look in a fancy restaurant.
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
~
Caroline lifted her wine glass to her lips, the ruby liquid looked even darker next to her cherry red lips. She let the wine linger on her tongue, trying to enjoy the dry rich taste and not think about how much she’d prefer a nice, hoppy beer right now. The restaurant was stunning—an overwhelming display of opulence with polished marble floors, soft golden lighting, and waiters with tailcoats. There was even a pianist in the corner playing something serene and utterly boring.
“Quite the contrast to the RV, huh?” Matthew said, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Caroline smiled tightly, swirling her wine before taking another sip.
"Yes, definitely. I mean, who wouldn't prefer all this luxury to, well..." She trailed off, waving a hand dismissively toward the white tablecloth, as though she were casting aside thoughts of their simpler days. "The RV was charming, but this—this is a whole new level of sophistication."
"Right. Because nothing says ‘sophistication’ like waiters in tuxedos who think they’re too good to look you in the eye." He scoffed and shifted in his seat slightly. "Honestly, give me a greasy spoon diner any day. At least the food doesn’t look like art."
Caroline's stomach fluttered. Of course, she couldn’t tell him how much she missed those diners. The greasy bacon and the comfort of a cracked vinyl booth, the smell of coffee lingering in the air. That had been life—simple, raw, and real. The RV had felt like freedom, not this... pretentious show. She’d been dreaming of this for years; big city life, the fancy dinners, the fancy clothes; she couldn’t let Matthew know she hated it.
She stared down at her plate, where a sliver of what could barely be considered a steak lay, surrounded by delicate swirls of sauce that looked more decorative than edible. It cost three times as much as a fat, juicy, discount counter steak would at the supermarket.
“If I had to eat this every day, I’d be starving by noon. Give me a plate of mashed potatoes and a burger any day.” He cut into his own meal with exaggerated care, the filet mignon practically melting under his knife. “But hey, I guess some people like this fancy stuff.”
Caroline’s fingers tightened around her wine glass, for somebody who claimed to hate all this fancy food, he sure was eating a lot of it. He was on his third glass of this overly dry red swill that was apparently French.
This is all she’d been dreaming about, and yet, all Caroline could think of was those three days spent in the RV. The mornings that felt timeless. The feeling of driving into the unknown, with nowhere to be except wherever they were. The idea of "home" had always been flexible then. She didn’t need a big house, a fancy dinner, or even a decent paycheck to feel safe. Just the stars…and a good lovin’.
She scoffed down the pathetic excuse for a steak and got to her feet, immediately forgetting the napkin across her lap and watching as it fluttered to the floor.
“I need some air.”
She bent down and heard somebody behind them gasp as her ass raised high in the air. Matthew’s face was red as she straightened back up, and Caroline held back a smile as she headed for the balcony.
~
Matthew did his best to hide his embarrassment; it was bad enough that Caroline had come dressed in those tight pants, but to bend over like that in the middle of the room. You could see the outline of her ass perfectly; the pants may as well have been a second skin! That might have flown at the diners they’d eaten at on the road, but not here. They already looked like quite the odd couple; now half the room was whispering. Matthew held out his glass in his perfectly manicured hand and gave the waiter a grateful smile for refilling it.
It tasted superb. It felt almost sacrilegious to insult the food. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much he appreciated it; the tenderness of the steak, the richness of the truffle oil, the way everything was perfectly balanced in a way that he couldn't have even dreamed up in their own kitchen. The dinner had been exquisite. More than that, almost magical. The idea of actually going back to diners and the RV after living it up in the big city sounded hellish.
His job was wonderful too; he didn't want to give up the sleek office, or the harmless flirtations. Hell, he didn't even want to give up this body. Matthew stared at his warped reflection in the curve of his wine glass. It wasn't his reflection, though, not really, it was Matilda’s. That was who he was now, the truth was, he felt far more comfortable in her skin than he ever had in his own.
Again, his thoughts drifted back to those days on the road, to his stubbornness and pride, which were stopping him from fully enjoying this big city life. All of a sudden, it seemed so…stupid.
“Would you like to see the dessert menu, ma’am?”
The waiter almost made him jump out of his skin.
“No, thank you. I might just go find my wife, I need to talk to her for a moment before we settle the cheque.”
He got to his feet and followed Caroline out; even now that he was ready to swallow his pride, he was still nervous. She was leaning on the balcony, that beautiful butt of hers still on full display. Matthew took a deep breath and joined her, leaning over the railing and looking down at the glittering city all around them.
“I was just looking at the stars…” Caroline whispered, “You can’t see many here, too much light.”
Matthew glanced up; she was right, he hadn’t even noticed.
“Carol, there is something I have to-”
“You were right.”
“...what?”
Matthew couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard those words come out of his wife's mouth.
“Are you gonna make me say it again?” She huffed, “You were right, okay? RV life is great! I loved working from home on my own terms and not having the pressure of everybody watching me. I love the simple meals, the trashy clothes and beer! Oh god, I would trade every fancy bottle of wine in this restaurant for a proper, cheap as chips beer right now.”
Matthew blinked in shock, then started to giggle, then bent over double laughing as Caroline’s face turned scarlet.
“I-I’m sorry!” he gasped, “I’m not laughing at you I swear it’s just…I was about to tell you the same thing! I hated the RV, I hated the mud and the dirt, and this is the best meal I have ever had! Your job is incredible! I haven’t felt this fulfilled in years!”
“...You’re kidding.”
“So this whole time I was pretending to love the RV.”
“And I was pretending not to.”
“And while I pretended to hate the meal.”
“Yeah…”
There was silence for a moment before Caroline spoke again.
“Damn, we really did need therapy, huh?”
That made him snort, and they both laughed for a moment before the cool air changed the tone.
“So now what?” Matthew said quietly. “I love this life, you love that one. We switched positions, but the problem’s the same. We want different lives.”
Caroline took a deep breath and Matthew felt his heart clench; here it comes, the big D word.
“We work at it.”
“What?”
“We were always so concerned with being right, we never really talked with each other, did we? Just…at each other.”
“So…”
“So we talk, we listen. We stay here so you have your fancy job, and we save up and buy a nice country house where we can go on holidays. I’ll suck it up for fancy work dinners, and you’ll take me camping on the weekends…that sort of thing.”
“Glamping.”
“Camping. With a tent.”
“...The things I do for love.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve said that, you know.”
“That I love you? Well…when was the last time you said it?”
Caroline shuffled a little closer; her cleavage was threatening to spill out of the tank top that had somehow gotten through this restaurant's fancy dress code and Matthew chuckled. She was a bit trashy now, he liked that. It was nice to see her let her hair down, literally and metaphorically.
“I do love you, Matthew.” She whispered, “Even if I don’t always like you.”
“I love you two, Carol.”
She smiled and didn't correct him.
“You know, I think I could get used to this.” He added, “Being a woman, I mean. It’s…nice. Matilda suits me, don’t you think?”
Caroline’s eyes shone, and he instantly knew she was thinking about that night in the RV.
“It does.”
And then she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were soft, but not as soft as his now, thanks to daily gloss. They fit together better than they ever had before, and for the first time in years, the kiss wasn’t a battle for dominance; it was pure affection. It made Matthew’s heart ache; he hadn't realised just how much he missed it.
“So we work at it,” he murmured against her lips.
“We work at it.”
They went back to kissing. They still had a long way to go; their problems weren’t fixed, but thanks to this change, they were finally on the same page, heading down the same road, hand in hand.
It was a start.
~
Hundreds of miles away, in the office of Dr. Rahman, an idol stopped glowing.