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I don’t know exactly how much time had passed, but it dragged on unbearably long. I sat on a stool, staring at the spotless surface of the table, which I had already wiped clean for the tenth time, trying not to think about the next step. Every fiber of my being protested against going there—to the bedroom, where Marek had already made himself comfortable. The thought kept spinning in my head: this apartment had no other rooms—just a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. There was no option to sleep somewhere else.
From the bedroom came the hum of the television, rising and falling in volume. Marek was clearly in his element. I heard his voice—he was saying something in Polish, probably commenting on what was happening on the screen. Damn Polish. I felt irritation rising again, like a bubbling cauldron ready to explode.
– Polya! – he suddenly called, his voice loud and confident. I flinched, nearly knocking over the cup on the table. – Come here, what are you doing there? It’s late.
I let out a heavy sigh, clutching my face with my hands. The cameras. This whole damn experiment. I had to stick to their stupid script. The penalty... Those cursed millions they’d fine me for ending this early. Fine, I’ll figure something out! No way I’m sleeping in the same bed with this guy! I thought, gritting my teeth as I got up from the stool. My legs felt like jelly, and my boobs reminded me of themselves again, swaying slightly as I headed toward the bedroom.
– Polya, don’t act like a stranger! – his voice came again as I approached the door. I paused for a second, clenching inwardly at another spike of irritation.
The light was on in the bedroom. The TV on a small dresser opposite the bed flickered with colorful reflections. Marek was lying on the bed in nothing but his underwear, looking relaxed, as if the entire world revolved around him. He turned his head, noticing me, and smirked.
– Finally. What were you doing so long? Ironing the dishes? – his voice was lazy, but there was something in it I couldn’t quite place.
My eyes involuntarily widened when I saw Marek sprawled on the bed. He lay there with his hands behind his head, wearing only black briefs that barely covered his massive frame, which looked even bigger in the dim light. His chest, as broad as half of my new body, rose and fell with each breath, while his legs stretched out on the bed like pillars. The TV cast colorful flashes, reflecting on his relaxed face. He looked like he was completely at home, as if everything was perfectly normal.
What the hell... I’m supposed to... share a bed with him?! The thought hit me like a shock, making me inwardly flinch. I froze in the doorway, trying to hide my shocked expression. But damn it, this was so wrong it couldn’t even be put into words.
– Why are you just standing there, Polya? – he addressed me, noticing my hesitation. His voice sounded almost lazy, but there was a hint of mockery in it. – Or are you checking out your husband? Hm, you like what you see, don’t you? – He smirked, slightly tilting his head toward me.
Checking out?! I’m just in shock that I’ll have to share a bed with this... person! I thought angrily. Swallowing hard, I tried to pull myself together. The situation was becoming more absurd by the second. A thought flickered: Maybe I should try to talk to him and somehow hint at the reality of this experiment? That it’s all fake? But then I remembered the cameras. Damn cameras.
– Uh… I… – my voice betrayed me, trembling with that annoying high-pitched tone I hated with every fiber of my being. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. – I just… just wanted to change. – I awkwardly gestured toward the wardrobe, trying to justify my presence in the room.
– Go ahead, change, – he said with a shrug. – I’m not stopping you. Do it right here if you want. – His smirk widened, and something in his eyes made my skin crawl.
Why the hell is he so calm?! I mentally exploded. I’m not changing here! But I needed to grab something from the closet. The bed was by the wall, and the wardrobe was just a meter away. I had to grab something and get out of this ridiculous outfit I was wearing.
I took a few cautious steps toward the wardrobe, feeling the skirt restrict my movements. My boobs swayed with each step, amplifying the surreal feeling. Marek didn’t take his eyes off me, as if he was expecting something. He’s just mocking me, right? the thought flashed in my mind as I tried to focus.
Opening the wardrobe again, I found several sets of clothes. Everything looked so feminine that a lump formed in my throat. Among the items, I spotted a nightgown—light pink, with lace on the sleeves and neckline. I didn’t want to stay here any longer, so I didn’t bother looking for anything else. But damn it, it looked way too... feminine! There’s no way I’m wearing that, damn it!
My gaze darted to Marek. He was still lying on the bed, lazily flipping through the TV channels, but occasionally glancing at me, clearly watching.
– You’re taking your time, Polya, – he said with a smirk. – Are you choosing the outfit of the year?
– Yeah, yeah, just a second, – I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral.
I grabbed the nightgown, finding nothing less humiliating, and nervously clutched it to my breasts, trying to hide my embarrassment. As I headed to the bathroom to change, my thoughts buzzed like flies in a jar. I need to somehow hint to this idiot Marek that I’m not planning to sleep with him and that this is a goddamn experiment.