The next morning, I faced packing and wondered if I could leave somethings that I had bought behind. I put the thought off as I prepared for my morning jog. Having gotten into a routing with my preparations it wasn’t more than 20 minutes before I was out the door. Although we sort of had discussed my coming back, I wanted to make sure that Sam was happy with me leaving stuff at the house.

I pushed the last ½ a mile and ended up a bit out of breath when I finished. Ted from next door was doing something to one of the cars and waved to me as I jogged up.

“Nice run huh?”

The paddle is in the bag in the hall closet and I've been looking at the closet door since eight in the morning.

I get it out around ten. The bag has the new paddle in it. It's the replacement I ordered after I put the other one through its edge guard the night this started. I take it out and grip it. The grip wraps the same. The flare of the handle, the weight forward of my hand, all of it as it should be. I bounced a ball off the face a few times in the apartment and it goes where I aim it.

Megan's painting her toenails when I get there, door propped because she heard me on the stairs, foam spacers wedged between her toes, and she doesn't look up right away. "There's beer in the fridge," she says. "Grab me one too if you're getting one."

I had a weird dream. I was Victoria, and we were back at the weddings of the previous week, but it was Victoria who got married to Nancy, to Mona, and to Aries in consecutive ceremonies. Of course, my parents weren’t there, like in all my dreams, but we went to what should have been their apartment afterward. Aries wanted to consummate our marriages, and her ovipositor was fully out, though I had no idea when she had had time to have sex with a man during the day. Then it turned out that Nancy and Mona were Pasthru emales, and I was worried that the group was going to impregnate me somehow. We got as far as the four of us nesting our organs when all of that evaporated and Victoria was there alone, and then I woke up.

The hallway's dark and I don't bother with the light.

Mail on the floor I haven't dealt with. The kitchen through the doorway. I stand on the rug in my coat for a moment — just standing, just the quiet — and then I kick my shoes off. I stand there in my socks on the rug and just breathe.

Once back at Sam’s place I set about making a bit of dinner. As we ate, I went over with Sam what had occurred with Sarah so that Sam would know if any questions arose. Since tomorrow was going to be my last full day with Sam we also discussed what the future might bring. Sam was very adamant that I come back as Barbara. He said that it had been the most uplifting time that he had had in years.

The bed is wrong on both sides now.

I wake at 5:31 and lie there in the gray light with the sheets and the wrong silence. Kate's side of the bed is just her side of the bed now, the impression her hip has made in the mattress over two years, the pillow she's taken, the whole absence of her breathing. She took the comforter, or I let her take it. I can't reconstruct that part of the conversation. What's left is the spare blanket from the hall closet, the one that smells like the cedar block I put in there two winters ago, and I've slept one night under it and woken up cold.

This story contains sexual scenes

I had been meeting guys for a few weeks as Kathy. My real name is Keith. Well, I do feel like Kathy most of the time, though. I have been a lifelong crossdresser, and since leaving the council-run home, I have had the opportunity every day.

There are weights on my chest, pulling sideways.

Nancy was still lying in bed when I went to start my shower, but she got up and showered when I was done. Once I had breakfast set up, she came to the table, dressed plainly in a T-shirt and shorts.

“Jody, I want to apologize for what the group did yesterday.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I think we all do. You gave us permission to do that, but it wasn’t reasonable for all of your fiancées to get together and have an orgy that went on for hours.”

“OK. Apology accepted.”

Something's different before I'm fully awake. The weight of the blanket, or the mattress, the way my hips sit against it, two contact points spread wider than they should be. There's a warmth at my chest that isn't how my chest feels when I sleep. I lie there tracking it with my eyes closed. The body keeps giving me things I don't want.

The alarm says 5:21. I got there first, which is normal.

Waking up and living a day as both Jody and Victoria was old hat to me now. But I realized this was another day where I had to let Victoria control things. I’m sure Victoria would love to marry me, but I have to do it right. I can’t simply ask her, “Will you marry me?” and then with her mouth say, “Yes.”

I go to her apartment that evening.

She opens the door and reads my face immediately — she always reads my face immediately, this has been true since the first week — and she steps back and lets me in without asking anything.

Her apartment is warm. The laptop is on the kitchen table from last night, the whiskey bottle still there, most of it gone. She closes the laptop. She stands at the kitchen counter and waits.

"I talked to her," I say.

Seo-yeon is still.

When the women were just in my dreams, they could be flings or dating coaches or whatever and they complemented my real-life dates with women. Having my women be in the real world, the women I’ve grown up with, some of them since kindergarten, and having them so devoted to me, there’s no question.

Home at ten-thirty. Emily pays the cab while I get the keys. Inside, the house quiet - Jenna on the sofa with her phone, the monitor on the coffee table showing Theo's breathing steady and slow.

"He went down at nine," Jenna says. "Took the bottle fine."

Emily thanks her and counts out cash and I wait by the door. When Jenna's gone Emily sets the monitor to low and looks at the stairs.

"He'll wake in a few hours," she says. Not a complaint. Just the math of it, working out what the night holds. She takes her shoes off at the bottom of the stairs.

---

I wake at half past four to something wrong with my underwear.

The house smells like garlic and rosemary when I push through the door, gym bag on my shoulder, the t-shirt still damp at the collar from the shower. No bra underneath - the sports bra is in the bag with the soaked sweats, and I didn't put it back on, just pulled the t-shirt over bare skin. The cold outside made itself known on the walk from the cab.