In the following days, Amelie started noticing subtle changes in my behavior. I had become softer, more thoughtful, and carried an air of gentleness around me. There was a lightness in my step, a quiet confidence that wasn't there before. It was as though I was seeing the world through a fresh pair of eyes.

"What's gotten into you, Don?" she asked one evening over dinner, her eyes scrutinizing me. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, suddenly aware of how my movements, the softness of my voice, the slight lilt in my laughter, were different.

"It's...nothing," I stuttered, trying to regain my old masculine posture, my heart pounding in my chest.

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment longer before resuming her meal. "You seem... different, happier." she said, a small frown furrowing her brows.

The word 'happier' hung in the air between us. Was I happier? I wondered. Yes, I was, when I was embracing my feminine side, when I was living my truth. But the fear of losing everything, my marriage, my reputation, my job, the life I had painstakingly built over the years, was a looming shadow over this newfound happiness.

"I guess I am," I answered, managing a half-smile. "Maybe it's the new project at work. It's... liberating, in a way."

"Liberating?" She echoed, her gaze sharp, "Interesting choice of words, Don."

I nodded, swallowing hard, a lump forming in my throat. Little did she know how much weight that word carried for me, how liberating it truly felt to embrace my inner self.

But the deeper question remained, how long could I keep living these two lives? How long before the truth surfaced, threatening to shatter the world I knew?

[To be continued...]