The next few days passed in a blur of routine.

Tablets. Water. Food that didn’t fight back. Gary followed instructions with the cautious reverence of a man who had recently learned that ignoring problems ended badly.

The swelling went down. Slowly, but noticeably. Each morning he woke up feeling a fraction more human. Less like a cautionary tale. More like a man who might survive his own decision-making.

He cleaned his flat. Not aggressively. Just enough to remove the sense of collapse. He did laundry. Properly. With detergent and everything.

This concerned him slightly.

On the third day, he caught himself whistling while making tea and stopped immediately, suspicious of his own optimism.

His phone buzzed.

How’s recovery going?

Gary considered replying with a joke, then didn’t.

Better, he wrote. Genuinely.

A pause.

Good, came the reply. We’ll book the proper appointment next.

Gary felt a flutter of nerves, but it didn’t spiral. It sat there, manageable.

That was new.

He looked around his flat, noticing for the first time in a while that it wasn’t actively hostile. Just messy. Fixable.

Maybe he was too.

Book the appointment and commit fully → Page 60

Decide this is “good enough” and relax too early → Page 76