Chapter 3

"Today's Leo's birthday, right?" Chloe pulled a handheld console out of her bag—the exact Nintendo Switch I had drooled over back in college.

"I know you don't like letting Leo play video games, but he's just a kid. He needs some downtime."

With that, she quickly hailed an Uber, saying she had a meeting back at the office, and waved goodbye.

Staring at the console in my hands, I suddenly understood Dylan's anger. Even Chloe remembered Leo's birthday, yet I, his own mother, had been totally clueless. I really was pathetic.

I powered on the Switch. It was preloaded with over a dozen games. I sat on the curb, playing them straight until evening.

On my way home, I bought a bag of fresh peaches from a street stand. When Leo saw the game console, his face lit up with pure joy.

The second he saw the peaches, though, his eyes widened in terror.

"Leo is allergic to peaches." Dylan took the bag and set it aside, his tone utterly devoid of emotion.

"..."

I lowered my eyes, unable to utter a single word. Turning around, I walked into the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

I loved video games, I loved peaches, I loved Dylan, and I loved Chloe...

Yet everything I loved seemed to be slipping right through my fingers.

That night, Dylan didn't come to bed. He just sat alone on the living room sofa, staring blankly at the dark TV screen.

"Mommy." Leo snuggled into my arms, pulling a storybook from beneath the pillow. "Can you read Leo a bedtime story?"

"Of course, sweetie." I gently tapped his nose. "But can you go cheer up Daddy for Mommy first, please?"

In the end, worn down by Leo's persistent begging, Dylan finally came into the bedroom. But the look in his eyes was laced with cold contempt.

For the next few days, Dylan shared the bed with me, but that only made me feel more miserable.

The man I loved was right beside me, yet between us lay an endless, impassable chasm.

This convinced me even more: I hadn't simply traveled five years into the future. Another soul had completely taken over my body for five whole years.

The other Charlotte was far better than me. She effortlessly handled social ties I was terrible at. She was fiercely driven in her career, yet in her free time, she still found the patience to teach neighborhood kids piano.

Meanwhile, I was practically tone-deaf. Staring at this vastly superior version of myself left me suffocating.

The various trophies lined up in the piano room felt like they were sneering at me: Look at yourself, Charlotte. How pathetic can you get?

What was I even supposed to do?

"Who the hell are you?" Dylan leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down like I was an evil monster who had stolen a body.