Roses for Someone Else’s Body

Some apologies come wrapped in flowers.

Others arrive too late — carrying the weight of a body that tells a different truth.

“Wow… flowers?”
She tilted her head slightly, a faint smile forming. “I thought you were still upset about all this — about me swapping bodies with your wife.”

“I am upset,” he replied honestly, exhaling as if the words had been building for days. “I don’t know… you should’ve told me sooner. Not after we spent an incredible week together. A week in a place she never liked, just ‘to make me happy.’”

He paused, memories slipping through his fingers.

“You wore things she hadn’t touched in years. Treated me better than she had in a long time. For a moment, I swear… I thought I was finally seeing her again.”

Brian let out a soft, almost guilty laugh.

“Honestly, dude? I was just playing her role.”

He shook his head slowly.

“No… our marriage had been sinking for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

A thoughtful hum escaped her lips, as if pieces were finally falling into place.

“Hmmm… that explains a lot. When she came to talk to me, she said she was feeling tired — but I never imagined it was because of you. Since we’re close, she said it might be nice to ‘try something new.’”

She glanced up at him, eyes shining with a dangerous kind of clarity.

“She even said she was leaving you in good hands.”

He swallowed.

“I can’t argue with that,” he admitted quietly. “She really did leave me in good hands…”

A brief pause.

“…and a very good mouth.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was loaded — heavy with everything that had already happened, and everything they were no longer pretending hadn’t.