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ANDY'S POV
It's been a week since I left. Just a week… but it feels like a lifetime.
I blocked everyone—Mom, James, even people who just reminded me of who I used to be. I didn't want sympathy. I didn't want reminders. I just wanted to disappear.
Australia was… different. Calmer. Warmer. Kinder. The air tasted like freedom. I'd never left home before, never stepped foot on another land. I gorged myself on food, on drinks, on distractions. I laughed at strangers' jokes. I danced when no one was watching. I tried, God I tried, to forget.
But the silence at night always betrayed me. Every time I entered my room, the past curled itself around me like smoke I couldn't clear.
That night, I ended up at a bar—half drunk, half empty. That's when I saw her.
She sat alone, dressed in a way that made my heart ache with familiarity—strong and masculine but still undeniably woman. I wasn't sure what drew me in. Maybe it was her presence. Maybe it was the defiance in the way she slouched, like the world owed her nothing but she took up space anyway.
I hesitated. My chest thudded. But I approached.
"Hi," I said, voice soft, testing the air.
She didn't even look up. "Not interested."
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"No, I just… I just wanted to say hi. I'm Andy."
She finally looked at me, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses. "Yeah, whatever."
Her tone stung, but not because she was rude—it was because I saw myself in her. That edge. That wall.
The waiter placed her drink on the table. I could've walked away, but something in me held on.
"Why are you playing hard?"
She sighed and finally pulled off her glasses.
"Okay, what do you want?"
My breath caught for a second. Her eyes… they were fierce and tired all at once.
"I—uh—you have beautiful eyes."
She scoffed. "You're a bitch. I don't need bitches on my table."
I froze, the insult cutting deep—but I managed a small, broken smile.
"It's okay. I'll go. I don't wanna stress you. I just… wanted to compliment you." I paused. "But one question—are you a lesbian?"
"Yes," she said, flatly.
"What do you call this… this look? The way you act and dress?"
"I'm a stud."
"Oh." I swallowed. "Do you ever feel… embarrassed about it?"
She blinked, then straightened. "No. It's something we're proud of. Being a stud, being a lesbian—it's what makes me happy. I love myself for who I am."
Her words hit me like thunder.
"Wow," I whispered. "So how would you feel if I told you I'm transgender?"
"You're not the first," she said with a shrug. "If you are, I have a few trans friends. No big deal."
"So… I should be proud too?"
"Of course. You're a transgender. You gonna hide that forever? You gonna live in fear?"
I stared at her, mouth dry. "No. No, I wouldn't."
"Then be fearless. Love yourself. Trust me."
"You're right."
"I'm always right."
"You've been… helpful." My voice cracked. "I'll pay for your drink. Just as a thank you."
"Your choice, bitch."
I laughed through the tears that almost came. I went back to my table and replayed her words in my head, again and again, like they were the only thing keeping me upright.
A MONTH LATER
It took me weeks to let her words settle. Weeks of looking in the mirror and hating what I saw, then hating myself for hating it.
One morning, I stood in front of my reflection—raw, unshaven, shirt half-buttoned, eyes sunken from sleepless nights.
I stared. And I spoke.
"Let's make this right. I can't keep living in this weird in-between... pretending I don't know who I am."
I touched my chest, my jaw, my face.
"I'm not a woman. Not inside. I don't wanna lay with men. I love women. I love their softness, their fire, their scent."
I took a deep breath and whispered like I was confessing to God:
"I'm a transgender man. A fucking rich one."
For the first time in my life, I smirked at my own reflection—and it smirked back.
I applied for a job at one of the top companies in the city. A place no one thought I'd ever belong. But within a week, they hired me. I was starting next Monday.
This time, I wasn't running. I was rising.
I buttoned up my shirt, grabbed my wallet, and stepped out. It was time to shop—not for fashion, but for armor.
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TWO YEARS LATER
I didn't just grow—I transformed.
The walk, the talk, the way people looked at me when I entered a room. I wasn't an employee anymore. I was the CEO.
The past didn't define me anymore—but I didn't erase it either. I learned from it.
I learned how women think, how they move, what they love and what breaks them. I paid attention.
But until someone explains why a round pizza comes in a square box and is eaten in triangles... you'll never fully understand a woman.
Women admired me. Some flirted. Some stared. But I didn't let it go to my head.
Until that morning.
THE STREET
"What the fuck?!" I slammed the brakes.
A woman had stepped right in front of my car.
I rolled the window down, heart racing.
"Can't you watch the damn road before crossing?"
She stormed toward the driver's side. "How dare you talk to me like that? Just because you have a fancy car doesn't mean you drive like you own the street!"
My retort died on my lips when I saw her properly.
Green eyes, light skin that glowed in the sun, curves that would make statues blush.
And her lips… pink, parted in rage. I didn't hear what she said next.
"Hi. I'm Andy," I blurted out like an idiot.
She squinted. "What? Why would I care about your name?"
She crossed the road and walked off.
I watched her go, then laughed softly.
"Well, there goes a pretty girl."
I drove off to work, heart still pounding.
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IN THE OFFICE
"Ma'am," my secretary, Celine, said as she entered. "You have an appointment now."
"Bring them in."
Moments later, she walked through the door.
I stood up too fast.
"Isn't the Lord good," I whispered under my breath.
She looked just as shocked to see me.
"What a wonderful day," she muttered sarcastically.
"It really is," I said, smiling.
"You can mock me all you want," she snapped. "It wasn't my fault you almost ran me over. I'll leave if you're not hiring—no hard feelings." She reached for the file on my desk.
I grabbed her hand gently.
"What's your name?"
"Kimberly," she said, pulling her hand back.
"Well, Kimberly, you've got the job." I sat back down, eyes never leaving hers.
Her brows furrowed. "But you haven't even read my résumé."
"You look smart," I said. "Just do what you need to help the company grow. I'll raise your pay with every milestone."
She blinked, stunned. "Thank you… so much."
Then she asked the question I'd been waiting for.
"Your secretary called you ma'am. Are you…?"
"Yes," I said calmly. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no. I just… I thought you were a guy trying to be a woman."
I burst out laughing.
"What the fuck? A guy trying to be a lady?"
"Yeah, I mean… I wasn't sure." She smiled, almost bashfully.
"You're gorgeous," I said without thinking.
"Thanks… and thank you again for the job. When can I start?"
"Now, if you'd like."
She grinned, then walked out of my office. I watched her go like a man hypnotized.
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THAT NIGHT
I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to admit it—but she was stuck in my mind.
Every night, I saw her in my thoughts. Every morning, I waited for her smile.
But I held it all in. She worked for me. I couldn't make her uncomfortable. I couldn't risk crossing that line.
Until that night.
I picked up my phone and dialed.
"Hello? Kimberly?"
"Good evening, ma'am."
I sighed at how formal she still sounded. "Are you still at the office?"
"Yes, I'm working late."
"I need a file. The one on the battery company. I'll send you the location—I need you to bring it to me."
"Yes, ma'am."
I hung up—and nearly jumped in the air with excitement.
She's coming over.
I rushed upstairs to clean up, hands trembling.
I didn't know what I was hoping for.
I just knew I wanted her near.
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