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Eric arrived late to the yoga class. He hoped to get a little more information about his stepmom’s life (or if his own self now even existed) by questioning her classmates; instead he was just lectured about disturbing the zen of the room anytime he tried to strike up a conversation. He ultimately left early and went back to his dad’s house.
He wasn’t able to find any of his stuff at his dad’s place. At first he thought that was a hint. Maybe after the crash he just merged into his stepmom’s body and his own self just stopped existing. But then he realized because of the divorce that maybe all his stuff was still with his mom. Of course, he couldn’t just call and ask her, not like this. He couldn’t imagine his mom would want to speak with the woman that stole her husband and broke up their marriage.
And, of course, Eric hated the fact that he saw the face of the woman that broke up his parents every single time he walked by a mirror. When he saw that face, he could see that she was beautiful at first, but it only took a split second later for him to feel ugly on the inside. He felt so disgusted looking at that reflection or even anytime he looked down. It didn’t even bother him that he was a woman; what bothered him was the fact that he was this specific woman.