The tooth healed completely.

That part of the story ended cleanly, without complications or caveats. No lingering pain. No sensitivity that flared up at inconvenient moments. No background anxiety humming away beneath Gary’s thoughts. He chewed, slept, and smiled without thinking about it, which still felt faintly miraculous given how much of his life had recently revolved around managing discomfort.

Physically, he was better than he’d been in years.

Everything else grew quieter.

There was no dramatic fallout. No argument. No moment where something precious shattered. Life simply slowed and narrowed, settling into a smaller, more controlled shape. Messages became occasional rather than expected. Conversations stayed polite, friendly, and firmly on the surface. Whatever spark had existed earlier didn’t die — it just wasn’t fed.

Gary recognised his role in that. He hadn’t chased distance, but he hadn’t fought it either. He’d chosen caution when things felt uncertain, and caution had done what it always did: kept him safe while gently pushing everything else out of reach.

His days became orderly. Work filled its allotted hours. Meals were planned instead of improvised. Evenings were often spent alone, not unhappily, but deliberately. He read more. Walked more. Drank less without turning it into a moral crusade. The absence of chaos felt calming rather than empty.

Loneliness still arrived sometimes. Usually late, when distractions ran out and the flat felt too quiet for comfort. Gary didn’t run from it. He sat with it, recognising it as the price of the choices he’d made rather than a punishment for making them.

Standing at his kitchen window one night, watching people pass below, Gary felt something settle into place. He hadn’t failed. He hadn’t lost. He’d chosen responsibility and stability at a moment when those choices closed certain doors.

That didn’t make the ending tragic.

It made it honest.

Gary understood now that survival didn’t always look like triumph. Sometimes it looked like restraint. Like learning to live without constant distraction. Like knowing when not to reach for something simply because it was there.

The story didn’t end with romance or redemption.

It ended with Gary intact.

Healthier. Wiser. Alone, but not broken.

For the first time in a long while, that felt like enough.

THE END (Lonely Win)