The Stolen Years Reclaiming My Stolen Life

At first, I thought I had simply traveled forward in time. Only later did I realize five whole years of my life had been stolen from me. Now, I was supposed to have a thriving career, a harmonious family, and a sweet baby boy with the guy I used to obsess over back in college. Yet slowly, painfully, I discovered that my hard-fought return was entirely unwelcome. It felt like I was the thief—the impostor stealing "Charlotte’s" life. "Today is Leo's birthday." It was my third day in this world, five years into the future. I had just been thinking how unusually lavish lunch was, and the smile instantly froze on my face. Little Leo didn't mind at all. He kept chirping "Mommy, Mommy," begging me to sing happy birthday to him. Pulling Leo into my lap, I looked up at Dylan, only to be met by a pair of dark, unreadable eyes. Who could have guessed? To me, it felt like nothing more than waking up from a single night of heavy drinking, only to find myself thrown five years forward. Even though I supposedly had a great career and a perfect family, these missing five years left me completely in the dark about everything. The only silver lining was that my husband was the very guy I had secretly crushed on for three straight years in college. Right now, though, the way he looked at me felt more like he was staring at an absolute stranger. After lunch, Leo clung to me, begging to play with building blocks. Dylan stepped in front of him. "Daddy needs to talk to Mommy first. Let Mommy play blocks with you in a little bit, okay?" He led me out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette, a profound, unnamable sorrow lingering in his eyes. I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to ask. After all, five years were more than enough to make someone completely unrecognizable. Still, when the words actually left his mouth, I froze, utterly lost. "You're not her, are you?" "What?" I asked almost instinctively, having no idea how to explain to him that I was from five years ago. At our graduation party five years back, Dylan hadn't shown up as promised. Heartbroken, I had gotten completely wasted. He finally showed up at the karaoke lounge for the afterparty. By then, I was hogging the mic, completely smashed. Thanks to my best friend's wingwoman skills, I finally got to sit next to him. That was the first time I had ever been that close to Dylan. I was so nervous I couldn't even speak. Later that night—whether it was the alcohol talking or a game of Truth or Dare—Dylan and I ended up kissing. So when I woke up five years later and found myself married to Dylan, I honestly thought I was dreaming. Just as I was about to tell Dylan all of this, a bitter smile crossed his face. "Charlotte would never forget Leo's birthday. She loves spicy food, and she never sings off-key..." "I don't know why, but everything is telling me the same thing." He turned to face me, as if laying down a final verdict. "You are not her." I couldn't figure out why I had changed so drastically either. All I could offer was a feeble defense: "I am Charlotte." "I just... can't remember a lot of things right now." In the end, I still couldn't bring myself to say I had time-traveled. I didn't want Dylan's gaze to shift from looking at a stranger to looking at a lunatic. I truly believed that given enough time, I could become the Charlotte he knew again. Dylan didn't push the conversation any further. He turned around, headed back to the living room, and started building blocks with Leo. The gentle smile on his face made it seem like nothing had happened at all. Yet somehow, at that exact moment, an unbearable thought crept into my chest: it felt like I was a thief, living someone else's stolen life.That afternoon, my best friend called, asking to meet up at a nearby steakhouse. I happened to need information on what had actually happened over the past five years to make me change so much, so I hurried over to meet her. Chloe had been my college roommate. She was the very first person to know about my crush on Dylan and had spent all three years playing matchmaker for me. She was also the one who managed to get Dylan to show up at that graduation party. Now that Dylan and I were together, she definitely deserved a ton of credit. To my surprise, Chloe had changed drastically over the past five years too. Gone was the girl from my memories. Dressed in sharp business attire with subtle, elegant makeup, she looked so polished and mature that I almost didn't recognize her. "Chloe?" I asked hesitantly, completely unable to match her with the girl in my head. Back then, she was the one who taught me how to do makeup. She was the most chaotic, wild girl in our dorm, constantly joking about dating every cute guy on campus. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Chloe gave me a baffled look, then flagged down the server for a menu. "I remember you love the spicy seafood gumbo here." "Since when do I like spicy food?" I asked. Chloe froze for a second, then reached out to feel my forehead. "I'm not sick." I laughed bitterly, gently brushing her hand away, and half-joked, "If I told you I traveled here from five years ago, would you believe me?" "You say you're not sick, yet you're talking crazy?" She rolled her eyes playfully, then seemed to remember something. "By the way, thank goodness you helped me tweak the proposal last week. The client loved it and signed the contract on the spot." "Consider this lunch a celebration." Right on cue, the server brought out the spicy seafood soup. Looking at the glistening layer of chili oil on top, I forced myself to take a sip. The searing burn hit my throat instantly, and I almost gagged it straight back up. Yup. I really, truly couldn't handle spicy food. For the rest of the meal, Chloe kept talking about work, throwing around business terms that sounded like complete gibberish to me. Apparently, five years from now, I had become an absolute pro at commercial strategy. Was there anything she couldn't do? During lunch, Chloe seemed to notice something was off with me. Assuming I was just under the weather, she urged me to get checked out at the clinic. She always admired my fierce ambition, but she cared far more about my health. After we finished eating, Chloe gave me a cheeky grin. "Even though the client loved the pitch, I'll probably still need your help with the follow-up. Since you drafted the strategy, I'm worried my vision might clash with yours." Even though my mind was completely blank on the subject, I gritted my teeth and agreed anyway."Today's Leo's birthday, right?" Chloe pulled a handheld console out of her bag—the exact Nintendo Switch I had drooled over back in college. "I know you don't like letting Leo play video games, but he's just a kid. He needs some downtime." With that, she quickly hailed an Uber, saying she had a meeting back at the office, and waved goodbye. Staring at the console in my hands, I suddenly understood Dylan's anger. Even Chloe remembered Leo's birthday, yet I, his own mother, had been totally clueless. I really was pathetic. I powered on the Switch. It was preloaded with over a dozen games. I sat on the curb, playing them straight until evening. On my way home, I bought a bag of fresh peaches from a street stand. When Leo saw the game console, his face lit up with pure joy. The second he saw the peaches, though, his eyes widened in terror. "Leo is allergic to peaches." Dylan took the bag and set it aside, his tone utterly devoid of emotion. "..." I lowered my eyes, unable to utter a single word. Turning around, I walked into the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. I loved video games, I loved peaches, I loved Dylan, and I loved Chloe... Yet everything I loved seemed to be slipping right through my fingers. That night, Dylan didn't come to bed. He just sat alone on the living room sofa, staring blankly at the dark TV screen. "Mommy." Leo snuggled into my arms, pulling a storybook from beneath the pillow. "Can you read Leo a bedtime story?" "Of course, sweetie." I gently tapped his nose. "But can you go cheer up Daddy for Mommy first, please?" In the end, worn down by Leo's persistent begging, Dylan finally came into the bedroom. But the look in his eyes was laced with cold contempt. For the next few days, Dylan shared the bed with me, but that only made me feel more miserable. The man I loved was right beside me, yet between us lay an endless, impassable chasm. This convinced me even more: I hadn't simply traveled five years into the future. Another soul had completely taken over my body for five whole years. The other Charlotte was far better than me. She effortlessly handled social ties I was terrible at. She was fiercely driven in her career, yet in her free time, she still found the patience to teach neighborhood kids piano. Meanwhile, I was practically tone-deaf. Staring at this vastly superior version of myself left me suffocating. The various trophies lined up in the piano room felt like they were sneering at me: Look at yourself, Charlotte. How pathetic can you get? What was I even supposed to do? "Who the hell are you?" Dylan leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down like I was an evil monster who had stolen a body.