Stellar Redemption: Leona's second chance.

As the crimson liquid seeps from my stomach, it creates a pool around me while I lie on the cold marble floor, gazing at him as he walks away. Where did everything go wrong?

*

"Leona." The cold voice slices through the air, pulling me from the mesmerizing sight of the flashing lights reflected on the massive window of the spaceship. I turn, finding my husband of 15 years standing there, his handsome features marred by a scowl.

"James," I respond softly, bracing myself for the familiar confrontation.

"Why are you here? How many times are you going to embarrass me?" His voice raises, echoing in the sleek corridors of the spaceship.

I glance away from the captivating lights, my gaze settling on the sterile walls around us. Straightening my posture, I feel a familiar knot of resignation settle in my chest. Internally, I sigh, knowing this conversation will lead us down a path we've walked too many times before.

"I just needed some time to myself, James," I say, meeting his eyes with a mixture of weariness and longing. The man before me, the one I fell in love with over 15 years ago, seems like a stranger now.

He scoffs at my words, his disbelief palpable. "How does it look if my wife isn't beside me on her own birthday celebration?" James' tone is icy, cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

"I didn't consider that, I apologize. Let's go," I reply, my voice tinged with resignation.

James turns without a word, his steps purposeful as he leads the way into the main hall room of the spaceship. We're aboard a luxurious vessel, one filled with extravagant amenities like indoor pools, game areas, and over 40 rooms, each more opulent than the last. It's a symbol of wealth and grandeur, a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart.

As we enter the room, the sight of my "close family" gathered sends a wave of exhaustion through me. This family gathering consists mostly of James' family - my mother-in-law, a woman who has never hidden her disdain for me; my father-in-law and his second wife, accompanied by their five children and their partners; James' grandparents; and various uncles and aunts, each with their own set of expectations and judgments.

From my side of the family, there's my father, his wife (my stepmother), my stepsister, and stepbrothers with their spouses. Some cousins and their partners also mingle among the crowd. The only one who seems to harbor any genuine warmth for me is my paternal grandmother, although even her affection comes with a layer of complexity.

Jane, my stepsister, rushes to my side as soon as we enter, linking her arm with mine. "Sister, there you are," she exclaims with forced cheerfulness.

"Jane," I say in acknowledgment.

"Where were you?" Jane's voice cuts through the air, her tone laced with annoyance. Jane is an interplanetary known celebrity and model, and despite us being the same age, she looks perpetually youthful while I feel and look much older than my 35 years.

"I totally get it, sometimes I need some time away to escape from William," Jane continues, her words hitting me like a dagger to the heart.

William. Jane's 7-year-old son. Eight years ago, after seven long years of trying to conceive with James, I finally fell pregnant. But in my fifth month, tragedy struck when I tripped and fell down the stairs, resulting in the loss of my child.

The pain of that loss still cuts deep, a wound that refuses to heal. I mourn for the child I'll never know, the only glimpse of motherhood I was ever meant to have. And Jane knows it all too well. She knows the ache that resides within me, and yet she chooses to rub salt in the wound.

I can still vividly recall the day she came to announce her pregnancy, barely a month after I lost my child. Her face was alight with joy, a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt inside. It was as if she reveled in the fact that she was able to conceive while I was left with shattered dreams.

I hate her for it. I hate her for her insensitivity, for flaunting her happiness in my face when she knew the pain I was going through. And now, as she stands before me with that smug look on her face, I can feel the familiar pang of resentment and grief wash over me once again.

With a fake smile plastered on my face, I nod as Jane suggests we join the other ladies. She leads me to a group of women who greet me with polite nods and forced smiles. The conversation revolves around the latest trends, motherhood tales, and gossip—topics I have little to contribute to. I stand among them, feeling like an outsider in my own life, zoning out as they chatter on.

A couple of years ago, this treatment would have cut me deeply. But now, all I feel is a numbness that has settled into my bones. In fact, I realize I haven't truly felt much of anything in years. It's a realization that hits me like a heavy weight. The numbness started the day I lost my child. I can trace it back to that moment of devastating loss when my world shattered.

As the night progresses, I watch from the sidelines as Jane and my husband dance together, their bodies close and their laughter easy. They act as if they're the only two people in the room, oblivious to the whispers and knowing glances that follow them. Everyone here knows about their affair; it's an open secret that hangs in the air like a heavy fog. Strangely, their betrayal no longer stings like it once did. I overhear snippets of conversation about what a cute couple they would make, and a part of me even agrees. It's a strange resignation that settles over me—a resignation born from years of disappointment and heartache.

When it's time to retire for the night, I find myself alone in our lavish suite. James doesn't return as expected. Our physical relationship has dwindled into a painful and disconnected routine, each encounter with him leaving me feeling empty and hollow. Sex with James is just that—sex with James. There's no intimacy, no emotional connection. It's a stark reminder of how far we've drifted apart.

As I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, I feel a sense of detachment wash over me. The emptiness in the room mirrors the emptiness within me. And in that moment, I realize just how far I've drifted from the life I once knew, the life I once dreamed of.

There was a time when I used to resist, to scream out in pain when James and I were intimate. But eventually, I stopped. I suppose he lost interest when the struggle ceased. I always thought it was his way of punishing me for the loss of our child. The physical intimacy between us became a cold, mechanical routine—a stark reminder of the emotional chasm that had grown between us.

Hours later, the spaceship finally descends towards the planet, and we prepare to land at the luxurious resort. As we step out onto the planet's surface, we're greeted enthusiastically by the employees, their smiles and warm welcomes feeling strangely hollow against the backdrop of my internal turmoil.

I take a moment to marvel at the beauty of the planet, with its three large moons casting a mesmerizing blue light upon the environment. This resort was once owned by my maternal grandparents, a fact that fills me with a bittersweet nostalgia. Memories of childhood visits and carefree days flood my mind as I wander through the resort's pristine corridors.

In the lobby, a large picture catches my eye—it's a portrait of my late grandparents and my mother, captured when she was just a teenager. Seeing their smiling faces brings a gentle smile to my lips, a fleeting moment of warmth amidst the coldness that has settled in my heart.

Eventually, I make my way to my quarters, the plush surroundings offering a temporary solace. I'm just about to lie down on the invitingly comfortable bed when the door behind me opens. James walks in, his presence filling the room with an unsettling tension.

"What is it, James? I was just about to take a nap," I question him, my voice tinged with weariness.

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, James strides towards me, his movements purposeful and unsettling. Without warning, he forcefully grabs my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. I stare back at him, a mix of defiance and resignation in my eyes.

"I've always hated that look in your eyes. The way you look at me like I'm nothing," James says, his voice laced with bitterness and accusation.

In that moment, standing there in the dimly lit room, I realize that our marriage has become a battleground of unspoken resentments and buried pain. The distance between us feels insurmountable, and I find myself wondering how we ended up here—strangers in the shell of what was once a loving relationship.

"What happened to the sweet little Leona who would smile at me? The one that loved me?" James asks mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"She left when she found out the man she loved was nothing more than a mirage, a fake," I respond coldly, the bitterness in my tone mirroring the bitterness in my heart.

James laughs, the sound grating against my ears like nails on a chalkboard. It's a mocking laughter, one that tells me he finds my pain amusing.

Before the tense moment can stretch any further, the door opens again and Jane strides into the room, her presence commanding attention like an exotic bird in full display.

"Sister, sister, sister, ever the fool," Jane says with a smirk, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

I forcefully release myself from James' grip, the touch of his hand feeling like a brand against my skin. The air in the room feels thick with tension as I stand there, facing both of them with a mix of anger and resignation.

"Are you two here to inform me about your affair? Don't worry, I know. Everyone knows, it's no secret really," I inform them, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within me.

Jane's laughter rings out, echoing in the room like a cruel taunt. I feel a knot of unease forming in the pit of my stomach, a sense that something is not quite right. The way Jane looks at James, the way they stand together with an air of familiarity—it's all too clear.

As I stand there, surrounded by the two people who have caused me so much pain, I feel a surge of defiance rise within me. No longer will I allow them to mock me, to belittle me. I may have lost the sweet innocence that once defined me, but in its place, I have found a steely resolve.

With a calmness that surprises even myself, I meet their gazes head-on. Despite the tremble in my hands and the ache in my heart, I refuse to back down. The time for giving is over.

In an instant, a searing pain grips me, and I find James standing before me, a glint of malice in his eyes. A knife is buried in my abdomen without warning, leaving me stunned and gasping for air. As he twists and withdraws the blade, crimson pools at my feet, and I crumple to the ground in agony.

"Murder? I should be surprised, but in truth, I am not," I murmur through clenched teeth, my gaze fixed on James.

His icy gaze meets mine as Jane kneels beside me. "Give my regards to your son and mother," she utters sweetly. Doubts about my mother's death resurface, along with fragmented memories of a fall down the stairs, possibly not an accident.

I reach out towards Jane, but the searing pain halts my movement. "You're quite spirited," Jane notes before bidding James farewell with a kiss and departing.

As I lie on the floor, I gaze up at James and ask, "Why would you betray me like this?" He walks away without a second glance. "I never cared for you, Leona. In fact, I've loathed you for most of my life. But I no longer need you. Your purpose has expired," he states callously

before disappearing from my sight.

I watch him depart, alone and broken on the floor.