Silly Hair, Serious Trouble

"Love, what do you think of this hairstyle?" Dan asked, adjusting the delicate lingerie and playing with a strand of hair tied in two playful pigtails.

César let out a deep sigh, arms crossed, his expression serious.

"First of all: now that I know you're not my wife, stop calling me 'love.' You can quit pretending to be her. Second: take that thing out of your hair—we’re going to a high-end dinner. And third: put something on before talking to me. This whole situation is already awkward enough, having a man in my wife's body."

Dan smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Number one: she was the one who asked for a break from you, remember? She came to me and asked if I’d like to live in a fancy mansion, wearing designer clothes, eating gourmet food, surrounded by staff… and guess what? I said yes. Number two: I think the hairstyle is adorable, and I’m definitely wearing it—whether you like it or not. Number three: it’s been weeks since we switched bodies, César. You’ve already seen me in all kinds of looks—some far bolder than this one. And let’s not pretend you didn’t enjoy it."

César averted his gaze, visibly uncomfortable.

"You even said the marriage had gone cold. I just added a little spark," Dan continued. "And anyway, when I told you Brenda wanted out, that she was tired of the relationship and ready for a new life, you didn’t ask for details. She transferred most of her money to my account and vanished. Where is she now? No idea. And honestly? I’m having way too much fun to care. The house is amazing, the wardrobe is a dream—and you, believe it or not, make a decent husband. Brenda was harsh walking out on you, but let’s be honest: she knew exactly what she was doing."

Without another word, César turned to fetch the dress he had picked out for Dan. The silence between them was heavy—but there was something else there too. A strange tension hovering between discomfort, longing, and... confusion.

Maybe Dan, the gardener, had been right all along. Among the many hidden flings he had with Brenda—something he never admitted, of course—this was the first time in years César seemed genuinely happy. The new "Brenda" was lively, charming, spontaneous. She was rediscovering everything he had to offer as if they were newlyweds again.

And the most ironic part? He couldn’t ignore the fact that, behind that perfect body, was the very gardener he had spent so long looking down on.

And now... maybe he didn’t anymore.