Three miles away, the Sterling-Khan Community Clinic was quiet. The chaos of the Croft wedding was playing on the waiting room TV, but Dr. Julian Sterling clicked it off.
In the small breakroom, a folding table was set with takeout containers and two paper cups of sparkling cider. Maya Khan sat opposite him, looking exhausted but peaceful.
“To the ‘Control Group,’” Julian joked, raising his cup.
Maya smiled, clinking her cup against his. “To boring nights.”
They were the “Stabilizers” of the narrative now. While William was trapped in a gothic nightmare of bigamy and amnesia, Julian and Maya had survived their arcs. Julian had scrubbed floors to redeem his arrogance, and Maya had forgiven him.
“I saw the footage,” Maya said quietly, taking a bite of noodles. “William looked… broken.”
“He looked like a man trying to live two lives at once,” Julian corrected. He reached across the table, taking Maya’s hand. “I’m glad I only have one life now. And I’m glad it’s with you.”
They ate in silence, the warmth of their “Pure Love” standing in stark contrast to the freezing cold settling over the Croft estate.