Chapter 5
Charles read from the file, "Third, based on our preliminary screenings, your medical reports, psychological evaluations, and professional background all meet our baseline requirements.
He paused, setting the paper down. "Simply put, why do you want to go to Mars?"
The conference room went quiet.
The air conditioning vent let out a soft hum.
I glanced at the window behind him.
Outside sat the most ordinary city street view.
Commuter traffic, pedestrians glued to their phones, and steam rising from a hot dog cart on the corner.
Brian was probably still at my apartment, trying to explain things to my mom or maybe even fighting with her.
Emily was likely at the hospital, waiting for him to deliver her morning coffee and change her bandages.
My phone had been turned off since last night.
If I powered it on, it would be flooded with missed calls and texts from my mom, his mom, and his obnoxious friends.
Maybe even from Brian himself.
The messages would all be exactly the same. [Stop throwing a tantrum. Come back. I'll give you one last chance.]
It was the exact same toxic routine we had followed after every fight over the last seven years.
He would graciously offer me a compromise.
I would swallow my pride and take it.
Then everything would go back to normal, and I would go back to being the reasonable, quiet, forever-waiting Stella Thompson.
"Mr. Kent," I started, my voice ringing incredibly clear in the quiet room. "I am twenty-five years old, and for the past seven years, my life has revolved entirely around one person.
"His preferences were my preferences. His schedule was my schedule.
"I was a part of his future plans, but I was never the only one.
"I always thought love meant compromising, enduring, and giving without expecting anything in return.
"But I recently realized that wasn't love. It was a prison I built for myself."
Charles's eyes shifted slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
"I want to go to Mars, and it's not because I'm running away," I explained. "It's because there is no past there.
"There are no relationships demanding that I be 'reasonable.'
"There are no expectations of how I should act, and there is no agonizing over who someone actually loves more.
"There's only the unknown.
"The unknown means I get to redefine who Stella Thompson actually is.
"Not someone's disappointment of a daughter, not someone's doormat girlfriend, and definitely not someone's backup plan.
"Just a woman who wants to watch the sunset on Mars."
I finished speaking, and the room remained quiet.
A female examiner beside Charles kept her head down, quickly jotting something onto her legal pad.
Charles looked at me for a few long seconds. "One last question," he said finally. "If that significant other you mentioned were to appear outside that door right now and beg you to stay, would you change your mind?"
I didn't hesitate for a split second. "No," I replied.
"Why not?"
"Because," I paused, recalling the very last look Brian had given me the night before.
It hadn't been the look of someone trying to hold on to love.
It was purely frustration, anger, and the sheer panic of losing control.
"Because he wouldn't come," I answered honestly. "And even if he did, it wouldn't be for me. It would be for his own ego."
Charles snapped the folder shut. "The interview is over," he declared. "You will be notified of the results within three business days. Please keep your phone on."
I stood up.
"Thank you," I said.
As I stepped out of the conference room, the hallway was empty.
Sunlight slanted through the window at the far end, stretching into long, bright patches across the linoleum floor.
I turned on my phone.
It started buzzing nonstop.
Dozens of missed calls, and over a dozen text messages poured in.
The most recent text was from Brian, sent five minutes ago: [Stella, pick up the damn phone.]
I didn't reply.
I scrolled down.
Mom: [Get your ass back here right now! Brian is waiting for you! If you keep acting out like this, I don't have a daughter anymore!]
Brian's Mom: [Stella sweetheart, I know you feel wronged, but Brian just has a soft heart. He's nice to everyone.
[Can't you be a little more understanding?
[The engagement party is the day after tomorrow. If you don't show up, how are we supposed to explain that to everyone?]
I read them one by one, then I deleted every single thread and blocked all their numbers.
When I got to the entrance of the National Space Agency, the sunlight was blinding.
I squinted, found a good spot, and sat down to soak up the sun.
My phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I picked up.
"Stella?" Brian's voice came through the speaker, dripping with suppressed rage. "You finally decided to pick up the phone? Where the hell are you?"
"Outside," I said flatly.
"Give me an exact location."
"What do you want?"
"What do you think?" His tone grew harsh. "Everything is already booked for the engagement party. The invites went out weeks ago.
"What am I supposed to do if you back out now? What are my parents supposed to tell people?
Do you want our friends and family to treat us like a total joke?"
I stood up and walked over to the shade of a nearby oak tree.
"Brian," I said.
"Brian," I interrupted. "Is Emily's ankle still swollen?"
He paused, caught off guard. "It's doing much better."
"Oh. So, are you at the hospital keeping her company right now, or are you actually at home?"
"I'm out looking for you!" his voice spiked in volume. "Stella, can you stop changing the subject?"
"I'm not changing the subject," I said calmly. "I just want to know what role you're currently playing while you demand I come back for this engagement.
"Are you speaking as the loving fiancé who has cherished me for seven years, or as the guy who caused a massive social disaster and is just terrified of looking bad in front of his buddies?"
There was silence on the other end.
All I could hear was his heavy breathing.
"Stella," he finally spoke, his voice sounding hoarse. "What exactly do you want?
"What's your angle here? You want an apology? A promise? Money? Just name your price and I'll give it to you.
"Just come back right now. You absolutely have to show up at the party on Saturday."
Absolutely have to show up.
I chuckled bitterly.
"Brian, do you remember my birthday during our junior year of college?" I asked. "You said you were taking me to the beach.
"You had the flights and the hotel all booked.
"The day before we were supposed to leave, Emily caught a fever and called you crying.
"You stayed on the phone coddling her all night.
"The next day, you told me that place was too far for a weekend trip and we'd go next time. That 'next time' never came."
His breathing hitched. "You still remember something from that long ago?"
"I remember," I confirmed. "I also remember that you bought me a cheap sheet cake, hastily lit the candles, and told me I was the only one in your heart. Like an idiot, I believed you.
"Later, I found out you had overnighted Emily a care package.
"Inside was a whole notebook of handwritten poems and a thumb drive of you singing and playing guitar.
"I looked up the lyrics on Spotify months later. The song was titled Lullaby for Emily, and you uploaded it on my birthday."
He went completely silent.
"Brian," I said softly into the silence. "You have never chosen me. Not once. Not in the past, and not now.
"And you never will in the future.
"So, stop calling me. Stop looking for me.
"Go find your precious Emily.
"Keep her company, love her, and make up for whatever it is you think you owe her.
"I'm out. I'm stepping aside, and I genuinely wish you both a lifetime of happiness."
With that, I ended the call and blocked the number.
I looked up at the sky.
The weather was beautiful, a crystal clear blue.
It looked just like a distant, pristine planet, completely free of toxic memories.
My phone vibrated one last time.