This was the pause before the full stop.

Not the kind of pause filled with tension or countdowns, but the quieter kind that arrived once everything that needed doing had already been done. Gary felt it settle around him as he stood still for a moment, neither rushing forward nor looking back.

He thought about how small the beginning had been. A dull ache. A stubborn decision to ignore it. A belief that things would sort themselves out if he just waited long enough. That version of him felt distant now, not because it was unrecognisable, but because it was incomplete.

The journey hadn’t changed him into someone else. It had just stripped away a few illusions. The idea that avoidance was harmless. The idea that charm could replace responsibility. The idea that consequences only arrived for other people.

Gary smiled faintly at that.

He’d survived embarrassment, discomfort, loneliness, and the slow grind of doing things properly. None of it had been glamorous. Most of it hadn’t even been interesting in the moment. And yet, standing here now, it all felt necessary.

This wasn’t about picking the “best” ending.

It was about recognising which ending actually fit.

Gary understood that now. Whatever came next — quiet success, lonely stability, messy growth, or darkly comic survival — would be honest. It would reflect how he’d acted when no one was watching, how he’d responded when shortcuts tempted him, how he’d behaved once the pain faded and choices became easier.

He rolled his shoulders, jaw loose, breathing steady. There was no urge to flinch anymore.

That felt like the real win.

Gary took one last look at where he’d been, not with regret, but with clarity. Then he stepped forward, ready to let the story resolve itself.

No more detours.

No more delays.

Just the ending he’d earned.

Resolve the story truthfully → Page 106

Lean into a classic Larry-style payoff → Page 107