Gary set his fork down.

“Alright,” he said. “Full honesty. It’s not great.”

She nodded, unsurprised. “How bad?”

“Manageable,” Gary said. “But only just.”

She leaned forward slightly. “You shouldn’t be pushing through it.”

“I know,” he replied. “I just didn’t want tonight to turn into a medical lecture.”

She smiled. “You’re on a date with a dentist. That was always a risk.”

“True,” Gary conceded.

They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the restaurant filling the gap. Gary felt exposed, but not uncomfortable. There was a difference.

“You don’t have to be tough about it,” she said finally. “It’s okay to say something hurts.”

Gary nodded slowly. “I’m bad at that.”

“I can tell.”

He laughed softly. “Most people can.”

There was something grounding about the exchange. Less flirting now. More sincerity. Gary felt the night shifting again, settling into something deeper.

This could go two ways. He could lean into the care, let the night soften. Or he could pull back, afraid of where that led.

Gary took a breath.

Accept her concern and slow things down → Page 50

Change the subject and protect the mood → Page 48