Stella hurried to her wardrobe, her hands trembling as she reached for the carton box she had sworn never to open. Pulling it out with a shaky breath, she carried it to her bed and sat down, bracing herself. Slowly, she lifted the lid, and a wave of bittersweet memories washed over her.
Inside lay fragments of a life she had tried so hard to forget. Photographs of her and Simon—moments frozen in time, now too painful to relive. Her fingers brushed over their wedding photo, her heart aching at the sight of their smiles. There were other pictures too, each one a reminder of a love that felt like a lifetime ago.
At the bottom of the box, her hands found two certificates—proof of how cruel life could be. One was their wedding certificate, a symbol of their love and commitment. The other was his death certificate, the final nail in the coffin of her happiness.
Her chest tightened as the weight of everything bore down on her. Unable to contain it anymore, she left the box and its contents on the bed and walked to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she stepped under the cold stream, letting the water cascade over her.
As the icy droplets hit her skin, her tears began to fall. At first, they came silently, blending with the water like they weren't even there. But soon, they turned into quiet sobs, the kind that carried years of pain and longing. Some tears fell like delicate pearls, while others dissolved into the steady flow of water, vanishing as though they had never existed.
Stella stood there, letting it all out, her heart breaking all over again. She had tried to move on, but Simon's memory clung to her soul, refusing to let go.
Stella cried until she could cry no more. The tears had drained her, leaving a dull ache in her chest. Gathering what little strength she had left, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a soft towel, and made her way to the wardrobe. She had barely opened it when her phone rang, the sound startling her.
"Hello?" she answered, her voice hoarse from the crying.
"Good morning. Am I speaking to Mrs. Winchester?" came a polite, professional voice.
The mention of her married name sent a pang through her heart, but she steadied herself. "Yes, this is she," she replied.
"This is Carlin from Protego Industries. I'm the receptionist. We're calling to inform you about an interview scheduled for 1 p.m. today. Apologies for the late notice—your resume was received just recently. If it's possible, we'd like you to attend."
"Thank you. I'll be there," Stella managed before ending the call. She stared at the phone for a moment, trying to process the sudden change in her day.
Three hours. That's all the time she had. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself into motion.
She selected a beige silk camisole, pairing it with a matching beige blazer and high-waisted trousers that highlighted her graceful figure. Tying her golden blonde hair into a slightly messy but elegant bun, she gave herself a quick glance in the mirror. Despite her exhaustion, she looked polished and professional.
Walking to the hall, she sat at the table and went over her resume, rehearsing answers to potential questions. The minutes ticked by, but Stella remained focused, refusing to let her emotions deter her from this opportunity.
After an hour and a half of preparation, she grabbed her bag, checked her documents one last time, and left for the interview. Despite the turmoil in her heart, she walked with purpose, determined to face whatever awaited her.
"Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Carlin?" Stella asked, her voice steady but carrying the weight of her emotions.
"Yes, I am Carlin, Mrs. Winchester," the receptionist replied with a friendly tone.
"To your left, Mrs. Winchester, your name will be called soon," Carlin continued, gesturing towards a waiting area. Stella nodded her thanks and walked in the direction Carlin indicated.
As she entered the waiting room, Stella was taken aback by how many people had come for interviews. The room was filled with faces—some anxious, some confident—but all were there for the same reason. Stella took a seat in the corner, her nerves settling into quiet anticipation.
Time seemed to stretch on as she waited for her turn. After what felt like an eternity, her name was finally called.
"Mrs. Winchester?" The interviewer's voice rang out, and Stella stood up, walking toward the door where a man in a sharp suit waited for her.
Without even a brief introduction, the interviewer dove right into the questions. "You've worked at Polotogo for many years. Why change companies now?"
Stella straightened her back, her gaze unwavering. "The company was toxic, and there was too much nepotism," she answered confidently, her words cutting through the air.
The interviewer let out a chuckle, as if it was a familiar story. "That's everywhere, Mrs. Winchester. What makes you think our company is any different? And if you couldn't handle a company you've worked at for so long, how do you expect to adjust here?"
Stella met his gaze without hesitation. "You're right, sir. Nepotism is everywhere. But sometimes it's about how a company recognizes its employees—whether they're seen as assets or just tools. In the right environment, I believe my capabilities will shine. And I know I can be an asset to your company."
The interviewer paused, his lips curling into a smile. "Interesting," he muttered, taking a note.
"So, how would you contribute to our company?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.
"I will do the work I'm asked to do," Stella replied, her voice calm but firm. "But I will also ensure that everything I contribute drives profit and growth for the company. My goal will always be to bring value."
The interviewer seemed pleased with her response, nodding thoughtfully. "You can leave now. We'll be in touch soon with the results."
Stella nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she turned to leave the room. Her steps were steady, her mind already drifting to the possibilities of what lay ahead. She had said what needed to be said, and now, all she could do was wait.