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The espionage agent that would later be titled as “Spy” stared into the full-body mirror in her and Marie’s bedroom. The man who stared back was so unfamiliar to the Spy, so disconnected from herself. She was so lost in her discomfort that she barely registered her wife approaching and standing beside her. They both stared at the Spy’s face now, each feeling strong, conflicting emotions.
“Laurie, you're so very handsome,” Marie sighed. The words felt like a blade slicing into the Spy’s heart. In that moment she wished nothing more but to wear a mask, something to hide that face that was simply inaccurate. It was too chiseled, too strong. Her eyes drifted over to her wife’s reflection. Her face was round and soft, delicate. The Spy kept staring, until it felt like her wife’s reflection was her own. The shoulder-length black hair, the made-face and jewelry, The low cut blue dress– All of it belonged to the Spy. The illusion broke when Marie turned her head to place a kiss on the Spy’s cheek and walked out of the room.
—
The Spy, Laurie, was once again staring at her reflection. But this time, there was no discomfort, no disappointment when she looked at herself. Earlier that day, while Marie and the kids were out of the house, Laurie had snapped. She shaved her legs and arms, put on a pair of her wife’s pantyhose and a dress, a red satin slip. She had almost cried her makeup off. She wore mascara and pink eyeshadow, dark red lipstick, and a beauty mark as a final touch. For the first time in her life, Laurie felt beautiful. Like the woman she knew she was. She put on a classical record and spun around her bedroom. She was euphoric and free.
The door opened, and Laurie froze. Marie dropped the bags that she had been holding, a shocked expression on her face. In an instant, Laurie was crying into her hands, and her wife ran to her. Laurie turned away, afraid of being seen, afraid of what she may have done to her marriage. She would have to start over again, change her name, flee back to Europe, even. It was over. She waited for her wife to run out of the room, call the police, or just start hitting the Spy. But none of those things happened. Laurie felt gentle, shaking arms wrap around her from behind, Marie’s head resting on her back.
“You look beautiful,” Marie whispered, and Laurie sobbed. The Spy turned into her wife’s arms, confused but relieved.
“Thank you, mon petit chou-fleur.” Laurie shook in her wife’s arms as Marie rubbed comforting circles into her back. “Are you upset with me?”
“No, no, of course not, my dear. I only wish you would’ve told me sooner,” Marie murmured before pausing. “Are you a woman, babu?”
Laurie simply nodded into her shoulder, holding onto her like a lifeline. Marie parted the embrace, and placed a soft hand on Laurie’s cheek. Though her mascara ran, Laurie was truly beautiful.
“Even through tears, there's a joy about you that I’ve never seen before, Lau. You’re glowing. I never want that glow to disappear.”
The two women met in a soft kiss, and embraced again.