They didn’t rush to leave.

That felt important.

Gary stood just outside the restaurant, jacket half on, breathing in the cool air like it was doing something medicinal. The ache in his jaw was still there, steady and unyielding, but the sharp spikes had eased slightly now that he wasn’t actively pretending everything was fine.

She watched him quietly for a moment. Not hovering. Not fussing. Just present.

“You okay to walk?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Gary said. “As long as we keep it… conversational speed.”

She smiled. “That’s my preferred pace anyway.”

They started down the street together, the sounds of the restaurant fading behind them. Gary became aware of how late it was, how empty the pavements were, how exposed everything suddenly felt without the buffer of noise and distraction.

“So,” he said, after a moment, “this is the part where you tell me exactly how bad I’ve messed up, isn’t it?”

She considered that. “Only if you want me to.”

Gary winced slightly, then nodded. “I probably should.”

She didn’t launch into it. Didn’t scare him. Instead, she explained things calmly. Infection. Pressure. Why ignoring pain never made it go away. Gary listened more than he talked, which was new for him.

“I know I should’ve dealt with it earlier,” he said eventually.

She glanced at him. “Most people say that.”

They walked in silence for a bit, Gary absorbing the reality of it all. This wasn’t flirtation now. This was something more practical. More adult. Slightly terrifying.

And yet, oddly, he didn’t feel judged.

At the corner near his flat, she slowed.

“If you want,” she said carefully, “I can take a look tomorrow. Properly. No pub lighting.”

Gary’s heart thudded.

“That would be… good,” he said.

It felt like crossing a line. But maybe a necessary one.

Agree to see her professionally → Page 52

Get scared and back out → Page 53