Tristan wondered how his wife would react to him now. He had been a tall, muscular, handsome man, the type of man almost any man would want to be and now look at him, a smaller, feminine, pretty woman. He could only imagine her reaction to him.

He looked up and looked at himself in the mirror, brushing away a bit of hair near the incision. That was the only external sign of what had transpired, that a brain transplant had indeed occurred.

He didn't wonder whose body it was, he doubted they would tell him anyway. All he knew was that she was brain-dead from an unknown condition and that her body was compatible with his brain. That was all he needed to know, he was told.

In truth, her former identity didn't matter very much. What mattered how, he decided, was how to go about living his life as a woman. How would he handle it? What did he need to do different? How would his life change and those of the people around him?

He smiled slightly and crossed his arms. He'd have to adjust a lot, but it was not insurmountable. He could do this. He knew he could.