NOVEL NEXT Chapter 45 Great Expectations
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Jillian: If you don't try it, how will you know?
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Sol 493 FY 26, 09:50 Mars Time, Bonestell Crater Colony, Hab Layer, 9.32.002.B
Marie found Vera alone in her common room, sipping from a steaming mug with her legs slung over the arm of the couch like someone who had long ago made peace with being comfortable in public.
The lights were low, casting warm shadows across the brushed steel walls. Marie had meant to check inventory for the shuttle landing, but her tablet sat forgotten in her lap, the screen gone dim.
She spoke without looking up.
"I don't want to hesitate too long," she said quietly. "I don't want to normalize hesitation. I don't want to watch him get back on the Orbiter and leave us without… knowing what it would be like. What I like. If we're a good fit."
Vera didn't answer right away. She took a slow sip, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her voice was soft, but not indulgent.
"You mean without finding out if your body likes him as much as your brain does."
Marie winced, but didn't deny it. Her fingers were curled tightly around the edge of the throw blanket.
"Not trying to be crude," Vera went on. "It's ... natural. You've been orbiting each other for eight months. That's longer than some people took to get married back in the day. You're not being impulsive. You're just close to the part where knowing becomes physical."
Marie shifted in her chair, unsure what she wanted to say. Vera waited her out.
"We've talked a lot," Marie said eventually. "I trust him. But in-person is different."
"It is," Vera said. "Body language, breath, scent, temperature—none of that shows up on Q-link, not perfectly. You're not wrong to feel nervous about it. You're just not used to accounting for all that … noise."
Marie stared at the blank tablet screen.
"I don't want to build it up too much in my head," she murmured. "Or freeze up when the time comes because I'm trying to make things perfect."
"You won't," Vera said simply. "Because you're thinking about it. That puts you miles ahead already."
Marie glanced up.
"You've got two things pulling you in opposite directions," Vera said. "You're a romantic—you want this to matter. And you're cautious—you don't want to rush. Both are fine. But together, they'll tie you in knots."
Marie gave a faint, rueful smile. "So what, just jump him at the airlock?"
Vera grinned. "I'd pay money to see that, but no. I'm saying: if you already like him, and you already trust him, then skip the part where you pretend not to want to be close. Fast-forward through the buffer zone, get to the good stuff."
Marie blinked. "Buffer zone?"
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"The four inches of air we keep between ourselves and everyone else. The socially acceptable no-man's-land. It's where nerves talk you out of doing the thing you already want."
Marie laughed once, surprised.
"I'm serious," Vera said. "Sit close. Hug him. Let your arms brush. Let him see your hair's a mess and you're not wearing mascara. Let him hear what your breath sounds like when you're trying not to laugh."
Marie was quiet for a long moment.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for... all of it," she admitted. "But I'm tired of holding my breath."
"Then don't hold it," Vera said. "Be real with him. That's what people fall in love with. Not perfection. Not poise. Presence."
Marie swallowed. "You think he'll be okay with all that?"
Vera's look was dry. "Sweetheart, if he came all the way to Mars for you, I hope he wants the real you. And if not, I'll personally boot him back into orbit."
Marie laughed, then hesitated. "You know that I'm a virgin."
"I hoped," Vera said, sounding perfectly serious. The alternatives to that, here, didn't really bear thinking about. Marie gave her a little shove with her foot.
"I'm not saying I'm ashamed. I just… I don't know how to pace this. I might flinch. Or overthink it. Or ruin it."
"You're not driving blind," Vera said. "You're not alone in the car. Talk. Laugh. Follow the energy. You don't have to perform. You're allowed to want him. You're allowed to pause. You're allowed to get it weird the first time and try again."
Marie's eyes widened a little. "You make it sound… normal."
"It is normal. You just haven't had a chance to see that yet." Vera cracked her neck. "I couldn't even count how many trysts I've entertained. Certainly, I christened most of the couches in the fabrication wing."
It was funny, but Marie didn't feel the humor at the moment.
Marie stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness in her legs, then walked to the reflective window. The stars didn't show through—only her own face looking back.
"I'll try," she said. "I'll hug him. Sit close. Hold hands. Maybe kiss him first, if he takes too long."
"Atta girl," Vera said, raising her mug.
"But if I freak out—"
"You get to," Vera said. "Just don't assume it means you weren't ready. It might just mean you care."
Marie nodded, turning to leave. Then Vera's voice stopped her.
"One more thing."
Marie turned, half-laughing. "Always one more with you."
"You two may have different hangups," Vera said. "Don't expect him to have the same rhythms you do. Don't panic if his signals don't match yours. Sometimes people freeze for totally different reasons."
Marie nodded, serious again.
"And," Vera added, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "he'll have been in a pressure suit. A brand new one. Those are harder on men than women. Circulation, heat compression—poor guy might be physically fried by the time you get him out of it."
Marie blinked. "...Oh."
"On the other hand, he gets a free STI screen, compliments of my Lark, so I'll be able to green light you on that score. Hopefully."
"I'm not foreseeing any issues."
"I'm just saying—if something doesn't happen the way you expect," Vera said, "don't make it a big deal. Don't make it his big deal. Just... laugh. Try something else. You're creative. You're warm. You'll figure it out."
Marie looked like she was trying not to melt through the floor.
"And if you need to decompress," Vera added with a grin, "you are always welcome to come find me and spill every bit of juicy gossip. I live for it."
"You're impossible," Marie muttered.
"I'm invaluable," Vera replied smugly. "Now go to bed. Big day next week. Don't forget to brush your teeth. And hydrate. Maybe shave, if you're into that."
Marie threw a pillow at her head and bolted for the hallway, laughter echoing behind her.