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— I’m not… — Emma’s voice faltered, and she stopped, gripping the glass so tightly the sides began to bend. The warm, vanilla-scented liquid threatened to spill over her fingers, but she didn’t notice. Her gaze darted around, as if searching the void for the right words, but there were none. None left.
— You’re not Emma? — Jessica prompted gently, taking a step closer and recalling Emma’s most frequent phrase earlier this year. Her voice was encouraging, not pressuring, which, strangely, only intensified Emma’s inner turmoil.
— I don’t know! — Emma burst out, her voice trembling under the weight of recent events. She took a step back, as if trying to put distance between herself and Jessica, but Jessica didn’t retreat. She only watched her more intently, trying to meet her gaze. — I don’t know who I am! I don’t know what’s happening to me! — She fell silent, and her words left an echo of stillness in the air.
Jessica froze, as if afraid to scare her off. Emma looked at her, and in that moment, everything she had been holding back erupted.
— I was sure I was Mark. That it was just a swap. Well, not just a swap, but simpler than it’s become. I thought the real Emma was in my body, but it turned out that wasn’t true! I called so many times and talked to him. He spoke like… like he’d always been me! But I knew who I was! — She exhaled the words as if casting off a heavy stone. — Yeah, it sounded absurd, but I knew it. It was just… knowledge. I remembered how I lived. How I worked. How I… loved. I remembered everything, Jess. I remembered that I was a man. A grown man, for God’s sake!
She exhaled sharply, her fingers trembling, and she forced herself to loosen her grip on the glass to avoid accidentally crushing it.
— And then… — her voice softened, weakened. — Things started changing. At first, it was just… rejection. I looked at my hands, my face, and it all felt foreign. But then… memories started to appear. I began to remember going to first grade, fighting with my mom over some doll. Being scared of math tests… They weren’t my memories. They were hers. Emma’s. — Her voice quivered again, and she dropped her gaze.
— I tried to shut it out. Told myself it was just my brain messing with me after that stupid mirror. That it was a result of our… swap. Or a trick, or God knows what. But then that jester appeared. And… it all got worse. — Her voice grew stronger again, and she raised her head, her eyes shining with tears and anger. — He just confused me even more! He spoke in riddles, laughed, mocked me. He showed me my that y wish on kitchen, as if I were Emma, or… or… Ugh, damn it. I don’t even know anymore. And I don’t know why he did this, Jess, or if he did anything at all. I don’t know what he wanted! But he… he left me here, in this body, with these memories, with a pile of questions that only got bigger, and… I don’t know where I am anymore! Where my real self is!
— Emm… — Jessica reached out a hand but hesitated to touch her. Her eyes were filled with concern.
Emma let out a loud breath, trying to pull herself together.
— I really don’t know, Jess. If I’m Mark, then where’s Emma? Is she in my body? Then why is she acting like she’s me? Or… — her voice wavered. — Or am I Emma? Maybe I was never Mark? Maybe it’s all… an illusion? Maybe I’m just… crazy?
Jessica shook her head slowly, her gaze steady.
— You’re not crazy, Emm, — Jessica said softly, her voice trembling but sure. — And it’s not an illusion. Yes, it all sounds insane, and I… I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But you know what? You’re still you. Does it matter who you were or what changed? You’re Emma, and that’s enough.
Emma pressed her lips together, trying to suppress the wave of emotions, but her gaze kept darting around, as if searching for something to hold on to.
— But… — she started, but Jessica cut her off:
— No ‘buts.’ You’re real. I’ve seen you laugh, I’ve seen you get angry, even when you tried to be… someone else. But I always knew that underneath it all, you were real. You’re not some made-up thing or a mistake. You’re alive. And that’s what matters.
— And if I’m wrong? If it’s all not me? — Emma breathed out, her voice breaking.
— Then who is it? — Jessica shrugged, as if it was the simplest question in the world. — If you were someone else, could you care so much about all this? Could you care so much about me, about us, about how everything looks? Emm, it’s you. I know you.
Emma froze, her hands no longer trembling. Jessica took a step closer, now almost touching her shoulder, and gave her a gentle smile:
— And honestly, I don’t care if you were Mark or someone else. Right now, you’re my friend. You’re Emma. And you’re not alone.
Emma looked at her, confusion still in her eyes, but alongside it, something new — relief.
— Jess… — she tried to say something, but the words caught in her throat.
Jessica smiled wider, giving her shoulder a light nudge.
— And I’m glad you finally stopped trying to act like a bitch.
Emma snorted, lowering her gaze, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
— I thought I was doing a good job.
— Too good, — Jessica laughed. — But I like it when you’re just you.