Thirty Minutes In His Skin

Every time Alex and I were intimate, my consciousness was violently ripped from my skin and forced into his body for exactly thirty minutes. For three years, Alex assumed I was just exhausted after sex, drifting into a heavy, post-coital sleep. He had no idea that while my body lay limp on the mattress, my mind was riding behind his eyes, trapped inside his skull. Until that night on the balcony. My consciousness floated with Alex as he stepped outside into the cool night air, flicking open his lighter to ignite a cigarette. He took a slow, deep drag. Then his phone buzzed. It was my best friend, Chloe. Alex’s brow furrowed in a brief flicker of annoyance. He hesitated before pressing answer. "Didn't we agree?" he murmured, his voice low and cautious. "You were supposed to call Kallie first. Make sure we weren't together before you dialed me." Chloe’s soft, fragile whimper bled through the speaker. "I did call her, Alex. She didn't pick up. I thought..." Alex let out a long, heavy sigh, the tension melting from his shoulders into a tone of sickening indulgence. "You silly girl. I'm not mad at you. It's just... she and I haven't parted ways for the night yet." He paused, taking another drag of smoke. "I'll buy our baby that new designer bag tomorrow to make it up to you, okay?" Listening to their conversation from inside his head, my mind went dead quiet. A cold, blinding void expanded in my chest. I had always thought Chloe was just obsessed with catching up over brunch or dinner. Every time she called me, it was always under the guise of inviting us both out to some new bistro downtown, asking me to check if Alex was free to join. She wasn't inviting us out. She was verifying whether Alex was lying in my bed. Three years. Over two hundred phone calls. It wasn't me and my best friend. It was the two of them, all along. … The thirty minutes expired, and the invisible tether snapped. My consciousness was yanked backward through the dark, slamming back into my own flesh. I opened my eyes on the bed. A moment later, the bedroom door creaked open. Alex slipped inside, smelling faintly of tobacco and expensive cologne. "Exhausted, sweetheart?" he asked softly, stepping toward the bed. For three years, every time he said those words, I thought he was being tender. I thought he was caring for me. I stared straight into his dark eyes, refusing to play my part. Without a word, I rolled over, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and dialed Chloe on speaker. It didn't even ring twice before she picked up. "Hey! Kallie?" Chloe’s voice was bright, bubbly, completely devoid of the fragile, pathetic tone she had used just minutes ago on the balcony. "Chloe," I said, keeping my tone perfectly flat while locking eyes with Alex. "I was so tired earlier, I fell asleep. I just woke up and saw Alex was getting ready for work, and I saw your missed call. What's up?" There was a distinct, microscopic beat of silence on the line. Then came her sharp, cheerful laugh. "Oh, it's nothing! I was just craving that upscale Italian bistro down on 5th. Wanted to see if you guys were free tomorrow night." "Sure," I said smoothly. "See you tomorrow." I hung up and didn't look at Alex. Instead, I began counting silently in my head. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five." Five seconds later, Alex’s phone chimed on the nightstand. "Chloe." His eyebrow gave a microscopic twitch. He let out a light, charming chuckle. "She probably wants to change the reservation time already. You know how she is." I sat up, resting my back against the headboard. "Answer it. Put it on speaker. I want to hear what time we're meeting." Alex looked at me. For a fraction of a second, I caught it—a razor-thin sliver of panic in his gaze. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual gentle, indulgent smile. "Sure. Whatever you want." He answered and tapped the speaker button. Chloe’s voice filled the quiet bedroom, but she didn't mention dinner, or a restaurant, or a time. She asked: "Has the rain stopped over there?" I turned my head to look out the window. The night sky was crystal clear. It hadn't rained all week, and the forecast promised sun for the next three days. Alex didn't look at the window. He kept his eyes locked on mine, his voice smooth and steady. "It stopped. The roads are completely dry." On the other end, Chloe let out a relieved breath. "Good to know. Goodnight!" The line went dead. Silence settled over the bedroom like heavy dust. I kept my eyes on Alex as he set his phone back on the nightstand, his expression entirely unbothered. It was a code. A sick, private language designed to communicate in front of my face. "Why is she asking about rain?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Alex reached out, his hand gently smoothing my hair, soothing me as if I were a paranoid child. "Kallie, baby, are you just overwhelmed? She’s been so anxious about work lately. You know how she gets—she rambles about nonsense when she’s stressed." I pulled my head back, dodging his touch. "Are the two of you keeping something from me?" Alex’s hand hovered in mid-air before he dropped it naturally back to his side. His expression hardened just a fraction. "Don't overcomplicate things with Chloe. She's your "best friend"." He emphasized those two words as if delivering a warning. Alex turned and walked into the bathroom. Moments later, the shower turned on. I picked up his phone from the nightstand. I didn't need to guess his passcode; I knew it by heart. I opened Instagram and pulled up Chloe’s profile. Her latest post had been uploaded twenty minutes ago. It was a photo of a sleek, black luxury handbag resting on a marble table. Hanging from the strap was a custom, hand-carved silver key ring. It was identical to the key ring Alex carried on his hip every single day. I refreshed her profile from my own phone. Nothing. She had customized her privacy settings to hide the post strictly from me. The next evening, Chloe booked a private booth at the bistro downtown. The moment I pushed open the door, Chloe bounced up from her seat and threw her arms around me. "Kallie! You finally made it! I swear, I woke up this morning dreaming about their truffle risotto." Alex stepped up behind me, casually pulling out the chair beside him for Chloe to sit. Then he flagged down the waiter. "Could you swap her starter?" Alex instructed the waiter attentively. "Make sure there are absolutely zero pine nuts in hers. None at all." I lowered my eyes to the artisanal arugula salad sitting directly in front of me. It was buried under a thick, generous layer of shaved walnuts and crushed pine nuts. I have a severe, violent tree nut allergy. It causes my throat to constrict within minutes. Alex had known this since the very first week we started dating. Yet tonight, he didn't even notice what was sitting on my plate. His eyes were entirely on Chloe. Chloe set her new black handbag against the back of her chair, making a deliberate, showy movement so the silver key ring clinked loudly against the wood. I stared at the metal charm for two full seconds. Chloe immediately snatched the bag into her lap, covering the charm with her small hands, her expression suddenly filled with flustered innocence. "Kallie, please don't get the wrong idea," she squeaked, her voice dripping with quiet injury. "I bought this key ring myself. I just thought it was pretty. It’s just a coincidence that it looks a little like Alex’s." Before I could even open my mouth, Alex cut in from the side. "It's completely normal for girls to have matching accessories," he said, carving a piece of his filet mignon with a steak knife. "Don't look at her like you're conducting an interrogation, Kallie. You're scaring her." During the meal, Chloe’s phone screen lit up multiple times. Calls were coming in, but she merely glanced at the screen, ignored them, and looked up at Alex instead. "Is the sauce going to be too rich tonight?" she asked softly. Alex laid his fork down, picked up his wine glass, and took a slow sip. His tone was utterly comforting. "It won't be. I'm right here." My fork froze in mid-air. "Last night it was rain." "Tonight it was sauce." Phrases that sounded like mundane table talk to an outsider, but every single word was a codified reassurance. "I've got you. I'll protect you." I set my silverware down on the linen napkin and looked directly at Alex. "Did you buy her that bag?" Alex didn't even flinch. He casually sliced off a tender piece of steak and placed it gently on my bread plate with absolute composure. "She’s been having a terrible month with her boss," he said, looking at me with eyes that seemed entirely sincere. "I bought a little gift to cheer her up. You’ve always said she acts like a helpless kid, haven't you? It's just a gift between friends. There's no need to be petty about it." I stared down at the isolated piece of meat on my plate. "And what about me?" He let out a short, quiet laugh, grabbing a napkin to wipe his fingers. "You're different, Kallie. You're mature. You're grounded. You don't need material bribes to feel secure." Halfway through dinner, Chloe suddenly gasped, clutching her upper abdomen as her features contorted in pain. "Ow... my stomach. It hurts so bad. I think I drank that iced water too fast..." Alex bolted up from his chair instantly. "A stomach spasm? I'll go buy you medication right now." He didn't even grab his jacket. He snatched his wallet off the table and sprinted out of the restaurant. I sat alone in the quiet booth, staring silently across the table at Chloe. The pain on her face melted away in seconds. She casually pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her feeds, utterly unfazed. Alex’s jacket was still draped over the back of his chair, his phone resting inside the pocket. The screen lit up with a text notification. I cast a sideways glance at it. It was from Chloe: "Babe, did Kallie notice the key ring? She looked so mean. I'm scared." A minute later, the door slammed open. Alex rushed back in, breathless. He didn't look at me for a single second. He grabbed his coat, pulled Chloe gently up by her arm, and draped his shoulder around her. "Kallie, Chloe’s in really bad shape," he said hurriedly. "The pharmacy downstairs is closed. I need to drive her back to her place right now so she can rest." He steered her out the door. I sat alone at the table, watching their retreating backs. A bitter, empty smile pulled at my lips. "It's time to leave." …… By the time I managed to get back to our apartment, an agonizing, tearing pain gripped my lower abdomen. Cold sweat burst from my pores, soaking my hair and dampening the pillow as I crumpled onto the bed. I forced myself to crawl up, feeling a sudden, terrifying rush of warm fluid between my thighs. I pulled myself into an Uber and rode all the way to the emergency room, clutching my stomach the entire time. The attending physician was a young doctor whose nametag read "Dr. Jonah Kelly". He walked back into the triage room holding a sheaf of lab results, his face dark with concern. "Did you know you're six weeks pregnant?" he asked bluntly. I went entirely rigid. "You're showing severe signs of a threatened miscarriage," Dr. Kelly continued firmly. "We need to admit you immediately to try and save the pregnancy. But this is critical—we need a family member or partner here to sign the emergency consent forms. Call him now." My hands shook violently as I pulled my phone from my bag and dialed Alex. First call. It rang until it hit voicemail. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, and dialed a second time. He picked up. The background was dead quiet. "Alex," I choked out, unable to suppress the sob tearing through my throat. "I'm at the hospital... my stomach hurts so bad... I'm bleeding..." A heavy sigh echoed through the receiver. His voice was soft, but laced with icy, unmistakable irritation. "Kallie, can you please not do this right now?" I froze. "Chloe just took her prescription and finally fell asleep," Alex continued coldly. "If I leave right now, she’s going to wake up terrified in the middle of the night." I gripped the edges of my phone case so hard my fingernails nearly bent backward. "I am telling you I am at the hospital! I might be losing our baby! Can you please just come here?!" There was a two-second pause. When Alex spoke again, his voice had gone entirely dead. "You're really resorting to making up a fake pregnancy just to force me to come home?" He let out a breath of disgust. "Grow up, Kallie. You're exhausting me. I'll come back early tomorrow to talk." "Click." The line went dead. The harsh, rhythmic dial tone echoed brutally through the sterile room. Dr. Kelly stood on the other side of the desk, having overheard every word. He slowly pushed the consent form and a pen across the table toward me. "Can you sign it yourself?" he asked quietly. I unclasped my teeth from my bloody lip, took the pen, and signed my name—stroke by stroke—on the line. …… By midnight, I was lying in a hospital bed with an IV dripping into my vein. The cramping in my abdomen still hit in agonizing waves, and the saline felt ice-cold as it seeped into my bloodstream. My phone illuminated on the mattress beside me. A short video notification from Chloe. I tapped play. The background was the modern, high-end kitchen of her luxury penthouse apartment. Alex was standing at the gas stove wearing a loose bathrobe, stirring a small saucepan of organic bone broth. Chloe’s sickly sweet voice floated from behind the camera: "Alex... if my stomach never gets better, will you stay and take care of me forever?" Alex turned toward the camera holding a wooden spoon. His eyes were overflowing with a soft, devotional warmth I hadn't seen in years. "Of course," he murmured. "Who else is going to look after my helpless girl?" In the dark hours of the early morning, a blinding, razor-sharp tear ripped through my lower body. Warm blood gushed down my legs. I couldn't even reach the call button before the pain blacked out my consciousness entirely. When I opened my eyes again, the morning sun was cutting through the blinds. Dr. Kelly was standing at my bedside, the dark circles under his eyes heavy with exhaustion. "I'm so sorry, Kallie," he whispered. "We did everything we could. We couldn't save the baby." I stared blankly at the acoustic tiles on the ceiling. I couldn't even squeeze out a single tear. Dr. Kelly gently tucked the blanket around my shoulders, his voice barely audible. "We called your partner thirteen times last night." He hesitated. "He finally picked up on the thirteenth call. He told us your friend had severe stomach bleeding and was in the ER, and that he couldn't leave her side." I closed my eyes. While my child was dying inside me, he was holding her hand. Suddenly, frantic footsteps rushed down the hallway outside. A nurse pushed open the door, her voice urgent. "Dr. Kelly, Miss Marsh's condition is deteriorating! The blood bank doesn't have enough units of her type—she’s Rh-negative, it’s extremely rare!" Another nurse flipped through a chart on a clipboard, hesitant. "Wait... Miss Morrison's chart says she has the exact same rare blood type." My eyelashes fluttered. A second later, the door was slammed wide open. Alex stepped into the room. For one absurd, pathetic second, a piece of me thought he had finally come to ask if I was okay. If I was in pain. "Kallie," he said, walking straight to my bed. His voice was tender, like he was soothing a child after a minor misunderstanding. "Chloe’s in bad shape right now." I looked at him, my throat so raw it burned to speak. "So?" Alex sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "The doctors said you two share the same rare blood type." He leaned in closer. "Help her out just this once, okay? As soon as Chloe is out of danger, I promise I’ll stay right here and help you recover from whatever illness you've got." A horrific, silent laugh welled up in my throat, causing my lower abdomen to spasm in agony. He spoke so softly. As if this were all just a tiny mistake we could smoothly move past later. "I won't donate." Alex let out a soft, disappointed sigh. "Kallie, don't be selfish." Outside the doorway, a nurse was pushing Chloe past in a wheelchair. Chloe was deathly pale, her eyes red-rimmed, looking up at Alex with delicate vulnerability. "Alex, it's fine..." she whimpered. "Don't force her. I don't want to make things hard for you..." Alex turned to look at her, his expression melting with pity. "It's fine. Kallie has always been reasonable." Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. He turned back to me, his gaze demanding compliance. "It’s only two hundred milliliters. The doctors will monitor you. Nothing bad is going to happen." Every word was a quiet blade to my heart. "Alex, back off!" Dr. Kelly suddenly shoved his way between Alex and the bed, blocking him. "She just had a traumatic miscarriage! Her body cannot handle blood draw right now!" Alex lifted his eyes to Dr. Kelly. No rage, no loss of control. Just a cold, superior smile. "Dr. Kelly, I respect your medical opinion," Alex said calmly. "But Chloe cannot wait." In the next second, Alex reached down and forcefully hauled my weak body up out of the hospital bed. The sudden movement tore through my fresh internal wounds. A blinding flare of agony exploded behind my eyes as fresh blood soaked instantly through my hospital gown. Dr. Kelly lunged forward to stop him. "Alex! Are you out of your mind?! Put her down!" Alex held me tightly, his posture unyielding as he turned his shoulder away. "Dr. Kelly, get out of my way." "You need to let me go, Alex!" I screamed, thrashing with every ounce of strength I had left, desperate to escape his grasp. My violent struggling knocked into an iron medical cart parked beside the bed. The cart overturned with a deafening crash. Glass medication vials shattered across the floor. Alex lost his footing, and I slipped from his arms, my body crashing violently onto the linoleum floor. My bare hands slammed directly into the pile of jagged, broken glass. Alex’s face twisted in shock. "Kallie!" He dropped to his knees to pull me up. A sharp piece of glass sliced deep into his palm. His blood welled up instantly, spilling into the cuts on my own open hands. My blood rushed into his palm, fusing together where our flesh met. The instant our blood mixed, a violent, blinding surge of electricity shot directly through my brain. My vision snapped to total blackness. My physical body went completely limp, collapsing onto the bloody floor. But right before the darkness swallowed me entirely—I opened my eyes again. My perspective was unnaturally high. I looked down and saw a pair of large, broad, masculine hands. It was that familiar, terrifying pull. The exact sensation I felt after intimacy. Chloe was clinging tightly to "my" arm, weeping hysterically. "Alex! Your hand is bleeding! Oh my god, are you okay...?" And lying on the cold floor right at "my" feet... Was the pale, motionless body of Kallie Morrison, blood dripping from her nose and pooling beneath her hospital gown. "It was never about intimacy." "It was about the exchange of bodily fluids."

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