Jon stared into the mirror. “I barely recognize myself anymore.”
His reflection was that of a woman. The black lace of the lingerie contrasted sharply with his pale skin, accentuating his still-developing hips. He’d never had what one might call a “strong jaw,” but now it had softened into an even more feminine oval. Pursing his lips, he applied a deep red lipstick with a practiced hand.
“Joan”—the name now on his passport and birth certificate—blinked back at him with mascara-coated lashes. “Maybe that’s for the best,” he said softly.
Sighing, Jon turned away from the mirror. His attorney, Rebecca, sat on the bed, watching him. Her expression was hard to read. Fascination? Pity? His heart pounded as he watched her eyes trace the curves of his body.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Rebecca said. “We can fight it.”
Jon shook his head, his long, dark hair swaying gently. “You’ve read the will. If I want to inherit my aunt’s company, I have to ‘live authentically as the woman she always knew I was.’” He laughed bitterly. “Apparently, being her sole living relative wasn’t enough.”
“But forcing you to transition? It’s ridiculous! Surely the courts—”
“The courts will side with her. She was eccentric, but she was sharp as a tack right until the end. This wasn’t some whim. She planned it.” Jon’s hand trembled as he reached for the silicone breast forms on the dresser.
“You’re not, though. Right?”
“Not what?”
“Transgender. She was your aunt, but why on earth would she think you were a woman?”
Jon bit his lip. “Look, she caught me one time when I was seventeen. I was trying on her clothes. But that was just a dumb teenage thing. I’m not a woman!”
“Okay, okay. I believe you.”
“And it’s not like I have a choice. Without that inheritance, I’ll lose everything. My house, my car... I have debts, Becca. Big ones.”
“Then let me help you!” Rebecca pleaded, standing. “You don’t have to sell your body for this.”
Jon faced her, cradling the breast forms to his chest. Even without them, the hormones had already started their work, broadening his hips, softening his pecs, making his nipples itch, and his balls ache.
“You are helping just by being here, by standing by me no matter how fucking weird this is. I don’t have the courage to do this without you. But I can’t wait for years to fight this in court. I’ve been living my life as if inheriting her company was my secret lotto ticket. That’s why I’m up to my eyeballs in debt. I had no idea she’d want me to transition but, well, now what the hell else can I do?”
Rebecca stepped closer, her eyes shining. “I love you, Jon. I love the man you are. This… Joan you’re becoming, I don’t know her. And don’t try to tell me you won’t be any different on the inside because I already see the changes in how you move, how you talk…”
Jon cupped her cheek with his hand, marveling at how small and soft it looked against her skin. “You’re right. Honestly, though, I’m kinda hoping Joan is a better person than Jon ever was. Maybe she’ll be smarter, make better decisions, not squander her chances like I did.” His voice cracked, but he forced a smile. “Maybe she won’t be such a screw-up.”
Rebecca’s eyes were wet with unshed tears. “You’re not a screw-up, Jon.”
Jon kissed her softly, tasting the salt of her tears mingling with his lipstick. “I screwed up with you. That’s why you’re my lawyer and not my wife. Maybe Joan can fix some of those mistakes.”
Jon turned away and slipped the breast forms into the lingerie cups, adjusting them until they sat naturally. He wouldn’t need them for much longer. Taking the pack of hormone patches from the dresser – which promised an “accelerated feminization track” – he took a deep breath and applied it to his smooth thigh.
Glancing in the mirror, he gave his reflection a small smile. “Goodbye, Jon,” he said. “Hello, Joan.”