to make another wish?

Tom sat at the table, fingers tracing the condensation on his glass of tea, while Sarah moved about the kitchen with easy domestic rhythm.

Every time she glanced at him, her eyes held nothing but maternal recognition — no flicker of the intimacy they’d once shared, no awareness that her “son” was really her husband. She didn’t know. In this world, she never had.

I could change that, Tom thought. The coin was still his, warm in his pocket, almost pulsing with possibility. One wish and her memories would come rushing back — she’d know him, truly know him, as the man she’d loved for twenty years. They could play around with these versions of themselves.

But His other thought — the one he didn’t want to admit — was darker. If I leave her like this… I can see what it’s like. Feel what it’s like. To be this close to her without the history, without the boundaries that used to hold me.

Sarah interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower and change,” she said, checking the clock. “Your dad’s taking me out tonight.”

The word dad still felt alien. In this reality, it wasn’t him. It was some other man. The idea of her dressing up for that man put a knot of jealousy in his gut.

She started toward the hallway, already loosening the tie of her hair. The motion drew his eyes without his permission — the way the sweater hugged her, the outline of her hips in denim. And underneath it all, a strange, almost overpowering pull… a need.

It wasn’t like a sudden flash of inspiration — it was muscle memory, deep and practiced. He knew where to stand, how to move quietly, where to angle himself to catch the best view. He had done this before, countless times, in this life.

His pulse quickened. Every step she took toward the bathroom seemed to pull him along in her wake, like a string tied between them.

By the time she closed the bathroom door, he was already on his feet. He told himself it was curiosity. That it was just to understand how far this new reality had gone.

But in truth, it felt inevitable — as natural as breathing.