My Decision

As I stood by the study door waiting for an answer, the silence stretched on, making the seconds feel like hours. When no response came, I cautiously entered the room. There, I saw Richard engrossed in writing in a journal. Taking a deep breath, I called his name softly. He continued to ignore me; his focus unwavering. Gathering courage, I moved closer and gently touched his shoulder.

Startled, he turned around quickly, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation when he saw it was me. "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly. "Diid we not agree to stay out of each other's way?"

I stammered, trying to find my words. "I just came to tell you that I cooked. Do you want some?"

Richard's eyes filled with contempt as he looked at me. He turned back to his journal without a word. After a moment, he glanced back up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You cooked? You? Even if I believed anything you said, the idea that you cooked is laughable. You're just a cheating liar.

His words stung, and I could feel my resolve weakening. Without saying anything else, I turned and left the study, my heart heavy with rejection and shame. As I made my way back downstairs, I saw my son, Tommy, and his nanny at the kitchen table, working on his homework. They had already cleared away the dishes from earlier.

 I went back to the kitchen and began preparing a simple meal for Richard. I made toast and eggs, focusing on each step as if it were the most important task in the world. When I finished, I plated the food and handed it to the nanny.

"Could you take this to Richard?" I asked her. "Tell him you made it. Don't mention that it was me."

The nanny looked surprised and hesitant but took the plate from me and nodded.

With a heavy heart, I sat down at the kitchen table, watching Tommy and the nanny from a distance.

After the nanny returned, I could see the curiosity in her eyes, but she didn't ask any questions. Instead, she continued helping Tommy with his homework. I felt a pang of guilt and sadness as I realized how much the owner of this body had missed in her son's life how could a mother be so cruel to even her own child.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. I made it a point to cook more meals, each time asking the nanny to serve them to Richard without mentioning my involvement. I also started helping Tommy with his homework and spending more time with him. Slowly, I began to see a change in the way he looked at me. The fear and hesitation were still there, but there were also moments of genuine warmth and affection.

One evening, as I was tucking Tommy into bed, he looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Mommy, are you going to stay with us now?" and you and daddy is going to stop fighting he asked.

His question caught me off guard, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat before answering. "Yes, Tommy. I'm here to stay. I promise."

After I tucked Tommy into bed, I carefully made my way downstairs, my heavy stomach adding to the weight of my thoughts. The kitchen was quiet, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I sat at the kitchen table, my mind racing with ideas on how to mend my relationship with Richard. It was clear that our marriage was in shambles, and I needed to do something drastic to change that.

I decided then that I would try to make this marriage work. 

The next morning, I woke up early, my body still adjusting to the routine. I moved quietly around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Richard. As I cooked, I thought about how strange it was to be in this unfamiliar body, in this unfamiliar life. Yet, there was something oddly comforting about the routine. It gave me a sense of purpose,

When Richard came downstairs, I greeted him with a hesitant smile. "Good morning," I said, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.

He looked surprised but didn't say anything. Instead, he sat down and started eating. I watched him nervously, waiting for some sign of approval or disapproval. After a few moments, he looked up at me. "Thank you," he said, his tone neutral. And went out of the house through the window I could see him enter into his car while the bodyguard closed the door, I guessed my husband is truly a wealthy man.

After Richard had gone, I decided it was time to change out of thie gown i was wearing as it was already very dirty. I made my way upstairs to the room where I usually slept, hoping to find something more comfortable and appropriate to wear.

Entering the bedroom, I approached the closet with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. As I opened the doors and sifted through the hangers, a sense of unease settled over me. The clothes were all of a particular style daring, revealing outfits that seemed more suited for nightlife than for a married woman at home.

Frustrated and at a loss, I decided to seek help. I headed back downstairs, my steps heavy with uncertainty. I found the nanny in the living room, busy tidying up some toys. She looked up as I approached, a curious expression on her face.

"Excuse me," I said, hesitating for a moment. "Could you help me with something?"

The nanny straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron. "Of course, Ma'am. What do you need?"

I took a deep breath. "I was looking for some different clothes to wear, but all I found in the closet were these... well, rather revealing outfits. Do you know if there are any other clothes, something more suitable for a married woman?"

The nanny's eyes widened slightly, and then she let out a small chuckle. "You don't remember, do you?"

I frowned, confused. "Remember what?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "Those are the clothes you've always worn, Ma'am. You had quite the collection. It was your style, your way of expressing yourself."

I felt a flush of embarrassment. "I see," I murmured, trying to process this new information. "But... I don't feel comfortable in them anymore. Is there anything else I could wear?"

The nanny looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could look in the storage room. You might have kept some of your old clothes there."

Relieved at the prospect of finding something more suitable, I followed her to the storage room. We rummaged through boxes and garment bags until we finally found a few pieces that were more to my liking—simple, comfortable clothes that felt more like me.

"Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "This feels much better."

The nanny nodded, a hint of amusement still in her eyes. "It's no problem, Ma'am. Just let me know if you need anything else."

After I had gotten dressed, I went downstairs to find the nanny. The comfortable dress gave me a renewed sense of confidence, and I felt ready to face the day. I found the nanny in the living room, still busy with Tommy's toys. As I approached her, I could see Tommy's eyes light up with curiosity.

"I'm going for a stroll," I announced, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air and clear my mind.

Before I could say anything else, Tommy sprang up from his seat, running to where his shoes were kept. "I want to go with you, Mommy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

The nanny, however, stepped in with a firm expression. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I have strict orders not to let you leave the house until you have delivered."

I felt a pang of frustration but tried to remain calm. "Who gave you these orders?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

"Mr. Richard, Ma'am," she replied apologetically. "He was very specific about it."

I looked down at Tommy's eager face and then back at the nanny