Gary didn’t overthink it.

This alone felt like progress.

“Food sounds good,” he said, nodding once, decisively, before his brain had time to sabotage him. “As long as it doesn’t involve… excessive chewing.”

She smiled. “We can work around that.”

Those words did more for Gary’s confidence than the beer ever had.

They left the pub together, the noise and warmth spilling out behind them before the door swung shut. Outside, the night air was cooler, quieter. Gary felt suddenly more aware of himself again—his posture, his jaw, the faint throb that reminded him this evening still had stakes.

“So,” she said as they started walking, “anywhere in mind?”

Gary hesitated. He hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. His dating strategy usually stopped at get through the first five minutes without humiliation.

“There’s a place not far,” he said eventually. “Nothing fancy. Which I’m hoping is a positive.”

She laughed. “At this point, edible is the main requirement.”

They walked side by side, conversation settling into something easier. Small talk. Comfortable pauses. Gary found himself relaxing despite the pain, his focus shifting from survival to presence.

Still, the tooth made itself known whenever he forgot about it. A sharp reminder here. A dull ache there. It was like carrying an annoying companion who refused to be ignored.

As the restaurant came into view, Gary felt that familiar flutter of nerves. This was a step up now. A new setting. Fewer exits.

“You alright?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Yeah,” Gary said. “Just committing to the bit.”

She smiled at that.

Gary took a breath and followed her inside.

Enter the restaurant → Page 47