The morning after the Salinger family dinner was, for David, an exercise in emotional bankruptcy. He had returned to his parents' house after Louise had calmly finished his expensive steak and Château Margaux, only to find Ella in a state of high-drama theatrics, swearing Louise was a gold-digging harlot who was actively trying to seduce Robert. David had spent four painful hours defending Louise—less out of loyalty, and more out of pride that he had tamed the harlot—and had received a stern lecture on the necessity of budgeting for the upcoming wedding.
He returned to the apartment well after midnight, exhausted and self-pitying, and collapsed into bed without so much as a grunt.
Louise, by contrast, woke up Monday morning feeling light, refreshed, and entirely unconcerned by the shallow breathing of the parasite beside her.
She had secured the moral victory, established her financial dominance, and proven to the Salinger clan that she was a woman of consequence, not a silent doormat. Step One of the plan—Financial Drain and Family Repulsion—was complete.
Now she's ready to secure her future health.
She requested a half-day of leave that morning, citing an urgent dental appointment—a plausible excuse David didn't bother questioning, only grumbling about the inconvenience of her not being there to make his coffee.
Louise didn't go to the dentist. She went to the prestigious St. Jude's Medical Center.
She wasn't willing to gamble her second chance on the fate of her genetics. The memory of the stomach cancer, the slow, agonizing decline haunted her.
By 10:00 AM, Louise was sitting in a sterile, pleasantly scented office, facing a man who looked like he'd stepped straight out of a mild-mannered, syndicated medical drama. He was handsome in a soft, approachable way, with kind hazel eyes and a genuinely comforting presence. She checked his nameplate: Dr. Evan Hayes, Internal Medicine.
"All right, Louise," Dr. Hayes said, setting down her comprehensive file. "We have the full suite of blood work, the advanced imaging, and the general physical. You, my dear, are a picture of robust health."
Louise felt an immense wave of relief wash over her. It was real. The reset was complete. The ticking time bomb in her cells had been defused, or rather, it hadn't been planted yet.
"No markers, no anomalies?" Louise asked, leaning forward anxiously. "No sign of... anything concerning? Specifically in the gastric region?"
Dr. Hayes smiled gently. "Nothing. Your white and red cell counts are perfect, your digestive tract looks textbook clean, and your cortisol levels—surprisingly for someone living in this city—are completely normal. You are, scientifically speaking, healthy as a horse. Or perhaps a very elegant wolf."
Louise let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Thank you, Moon Goddess.
"Now," Dr. Hayes continued, shuffling a second sheet of specialized reports. "There's a note here from your primary care about your anxiety regarding fertility. I ran the full panel requested, including a hormone profile and a check on the reproductive system's health. The reports are excellent, Louise."
He looked directly at her, his expression reassuring. "You have a high probability of conception. Your uterine lining is healthy, your cycle is regular, and your hormone levels are optimal. You have absolutely no fertility issues."
Louise's jaw dropped.
No fertility issues.
Ella's cruelest, most consistent weapon of psychological abuse over the last seven years of her first life had been the subtle, constant accusation that Louise was barren.
"My son deserves a family, Louise. It's a shame your body isn't cooperating. Perhaps you're too stressed, dear. Maybe you just aren't meant to be a mother."
The unspoken assumption had always been clear. You are defective.
Louise's mind raced back through all the sad, silent tears she had shed, all the wasted medical consultations where doctors shrugged and said "unexplained infertility," all the guilt she had carried for failing David's lineage.
"So," Louise said, her voice thin with vindictive clarity. "It was him."
Dr. Hayes blinked. "Pardon?"
"My fiancé," Louise clarified, a cold, hard smile spreading across her face. "He told everyone that we couldn't have children because of my irregular cycle and poor health. I spent years believing I was a dead end."
Dr. Hayes frowned, his kind face showing genuine concern. "Well, statistically, if a couple is having trouble, the male factor accounts for approximately fifty percent of cases. If your tests are this pristine, and you have been trying for some time without success, it's highly probable the issue lies with him. He would need to undergo a seminal analysis to confirm, but... well, let's just say your machinery is in perfect working order."
"Oh, he'll undergo an analysis, Doctor," Louise murmured, tapping her pen against the armrest. "Just not one he knows about."
David Salinger is barren.
The irony was so rich, so perfectly delivered by the Universe, that Louise nearly laughed out loud. The man who had based his entire identity on his Beta status, his superior genetics, and his supposed ability to command a family, was shooting blanks. This was a goldmine of humiliation, a weapon far better than any financial scheme.
It explained everything. David's insecurity. His need to put her down. Perhaps deep down, he knew. Or perhaps his own body was just as mediocre as his personality.
Louise inhaled, basking in the glow of this perfect piece of intelligence. "Doctor, let's talk about the stomach cancer for a moment. If I had developed it, what would be the primary contributing factors, aside from genetics?"
Dr. Hayes flipped to a fresh note pad, his demeanor instantly turning to professional consultation. "For someone your age with your current perfect bill of health? The biggest non-genetic culprits are environmental and behavioral. We look at chronic, unmanaged stress, which damages the gut lining and suppresses the immune system. We look at irregular eating patterns—skipping meals, or relying heavily on fast, processed food. And overwork—a lack of adequate rest, pushing the body past its limits consistently."
Louise mentally checked off the list against her previous life.
Chronic, unmanaged stress. David's constant financial demands, Ella's relentless criticism, and the existential dread of being married to a man she secretly despised. Check.
Irregular eating patterns. Skipping lunch to make David's dinner, eating cheap ramen at 11 PM after working late to finish David's reports. Check.
Overwork. Two full-time jobs ( free personal accountant/housemaid/therapist to David). Check.
So, in short, she summarized with a dry, sarcastic lift of her lip. SheI might have quite literally stressed herself to death trying to maintain a marriage that was slowly killing her anyway.
Dr. Hayes looked at her, his expression serious. "The body keeps the score. So we need to focus on self-care, healthy boundaries, and ensuring we're not carrying too much of the emotional weight of people."
"Consider it noted, Doctor," Louise said, her resolve solidifying. "
No more skipping meals. No more carrying David's burdens. And definitely, no more trying to carry David's barren seed.
Louise stood up, feeling a powerful, heady mixture of relief and cunning. The rules of her new life, the zero-sum game the Moon Goddess had mentioned, suddenly made sharp, terrifying sense.
If I'm not going to have cancer, who would?
If I'm not going to be cheated on, who would?
Who is the perfect receptacle for the misery I've just side-stepped?
An idea, black and shining, hit her with the force of a revelation. She was the heroine of her own story, but she needed a villainess to complete the tragic romance that was David's life.
Natalie.
The "bestie." The future mistress. The one who would eventually whisper 'Goodbye, Louise' as she died.
Louise smiled, a slow, predatory curve of the lips that didn't reach her eyes.
If I can make Natalie marry David...
If she could maneuver them together earlier... Natalie would be the one trapped with the barren, narcissistic man. Natalie would be subjected to Ella's impossible demands for a grandchild that would never come. Natalie would be the one stressed, overworked, and broken down. Natalie would eventually develop the illness that was the physical manifestation of that misery.
The universe abhorred a vacuum. The misery had to go somewhere. Why not send it express delivery to the person who deserved it most?
Louise was so lost in the beautiful symmetry of this plan that she didn't notice Dr. Hayes leaning forward, watching her with open curiosity.
"That," Dr. Hayes said, a hint of amused bewilderment in his voice, "is the most intense, slightly terrifying smile I have ever seen. You look like you just solved the global energy crisis, or perhaps decided to burn down the entire city block."
Louise blinked, returning to the present. She flushed slightly, a genuine, warm blush of embarrassment.
"Oh! Sorry, Doctor," Louise said, quickly trying to smooth the edges of her expression. "Just... a sudden, very satisfying solution to a fiancé problem."
Dr. Hayes chuckled, a deep, melodic sound. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. I'm afraid your check-up is complete. We can schedule a follow-up for a year from now, unless you'd like to talk more about those healthy boundaries."
He stood up and offered his hand. Louise took it. His grip was warm and firm, a perfect counterpoint to David's clammy possessiveness. He felt kind. Safe.
"Dr. Hayes," Louise said, holding his hand a moment longer than necessary. "You're a lovely man."
"Thank you, Louise," he replied, his eyes twinkling. He didn't release her hand either. "You are an utterly fascinating woman. And you are also single, I presume, given that you are plotting a very satisfying solution to a fiancé problem?"
Louise's blush deepened. He was direct. She liked that.
"I am currently... un-partnered in spirit, yes," Louise confirmed, gently pulling her hand away.
"Good," Dr. Hayes said, reaching for his jacket. "Then how about dinner? We can discuss your health plan, your career ambitions, and the correct way to burn down a city block, if need be. I know a place downtown with fantastic lamb chops."
Louise felt a strange, fluttering sensation in her chest. She hadn't been asked out on a proper, non-business-related date since college. It felt terrifying and exhilarating.
"Dr. Hayes," Louise said, leaning against the desk playfully. "That is an extremely tempting offer. But right now, I'm afraid I'm rather busy. I'm... doing the Moon Goddess's job."
He raised a perfectly sculpted brow. "The Moon Goddess's job? And what exactly does that entail?"
"Pairing lovebirds," Louise replied, crossing her fingers over her heart for dramatic effect. "And ensuring that certain misguided souls find their true, wretched partner. It's highly time-consuming, and I simply don't have the bandwidth for dating."
Dr. Hayes stared at her for a moment, then laughed again, shaking his head. "You are quite unlike any patient I've ever met. But I'm persistent. I will be a bachelor for the foreseeable future. If you are still available when your Moon Goddess duties are fulfilled, perhaps you'll find me?"
"If you're still available then," Louise promised, smiling genuinely. "I will absolutely find you. You're too charming to forget."
Then, a sudden, urgent thought flashed through her mind. The Moon Goddess's clue. The purple tulips. Andy Finch had mocked them, crushing her hope that he was her Fated Mate. But here was this handsome, kind doctor who seemed to appear just when she needed good news.
She needed to ask. She needed to know.
"One last question, Doctor. Just out of idle curiosity," Louise asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Do you have any strong feelings about purple tulips?"