Dr. Morris took notes, her gaze soft and understanding. "You're wife mentioned Sandra. And Sandra?" she asked carefully, watching his face for any sign of recognition. "Who is she to you?"

A flicker of something crossed Edward's face, a shadow that he quickly masked with a polite smile. "Oh," Edward said lightly, "she's just someone I used to know." He didn't want to admit he had been having an affair with Sandra.

Edward sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic still clung to him, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly laundered sheets. His discharge had marked the end of a long, difficult chapter, but the excitement of freedom felt overshadowed by an unshakeable sense of uncertainty. Dr. Morris had been more than just a doctor to him; she had been a confidant, guiding Edward through both medical and personal struggles with patience and understanding.

"You'll feel better soon," Dr. Morris had assured him, a gentle smile lighting up his face as he handed over the small, inconspicuous bottle of pills. "These will help. Set your alarm. Trust me."

Edward nodded absently, gripping the bottle as if it contained the secret to his happiness. When the time for his release finally came, he felt an unexpected weight lift off his shoulders, but it only took a few moments for the anxiety to creep back in as he stepped into the outside world.

He didn't want to go home, not yet. He had been inside for quite a while. Instead he drove aimlessly around the city. The alarm on his phone chimed, jolting him back to the present. It was time. In one swift motion, he retrieved the pills from his pocket. He swallowed the pills without the need for water.

As the pills took effect, he felt alive yet vulnerable. Instead of heading home to the quiet of his apartment---where he would typically stew in his thoughts---an impulse tugged at him, partly due to the pills and partly due to the hypnotic suggestion the doctor implanted into his mind. He pulled out his phone, heart racing, and typed in Sandra's address. She was vibrant, a bright spot in his otherwise muted existence, and despite the chaos of recent weeks, something in him craved her presence.

The city felt different as he made his way to her apartment, each step measured and deliberate. When he arrived, he hesitated for a moment before using her spare key to let himself into her apartment.

Edward stood for a moment in the soft glow of Sandra's apartment, the air thick with the scent of lavender and lemon from the candles flickering on the coffee table. He had always found something comforting in the way Sandra's space was decorated---warm, inviting, filled with books and memories. But today felt different, charged with a sense of purpose that propelled his actions.

With deliberate movements, he stripped off his clothes, setting aside the heaviness of the past week. Each piece of fabric hit the floor with a quiet finality, a symbolic shedding of the layers that had clung to him. He walked to the garbage can and tossed them in, feeling lighter instantly, as if they had been anchors holding him down.

He had rehearsed this scene in his mind, imagining a perfect world where he could live as Sandra---wear her clothes, fill her life, even take on her gestures and routines. It had become a kind of comforting fantasy that had grown dangerously real over time.

Heading to the bathroom, Edward gazed at his reflection in the mirror, taking inventory of himself. A soft smile crept onto his lips as the warm steam enveloped him. He turned on the shower and let the cascading water wash away not just the remnants of the day, but the weight of his worries and symbolically his identity. In the midst of the soapy spray, he reached for the depilatory cream. Applying it felt almost like painting over a canvas he desperately wanted to refresh. With his hair, his former life was washed down the drain.

Once he was rinsed and rejuvenated, Edward moved to the lotion. As he massaged it into his skin, he reveled in the sensation---the way it made him feel soft and new, he was stepping into a different life altogether. This was more than just a physical transformation; it was empowerment. A reaffirmation of his new identity and the new path he was forging.

Dressed in the peach satin nightie that flowed against his softened skin like a gentle whisper, he made his way back to the bedroom. The fabric shimmered softly in the dim light, and he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the person staring back at him from the mirror. Confident. Feminine. Ready.

With a soft thud, he sat cross-legged on the bed, the light fabric pooling around him like a warm embrace. In that moment, his former life had become a distant memory. Edward was just a person he/knew, but not who he was. He took a deep breath, letting his mind swirl with possibilities. It was time to embrace the adventure waiting just beyond the horizon, to truly live for himself, unafraid of what others might think.

As he sat there, a sense of calm enveloped him, replacing the anxiety that had clouded his thoughts. The night ahead was filled with potential, a blank canvas he was eager to fill with pastel colors. He could already envision all the ways he would seize the day, making choices that reflected his true self.