The appointment confirmation sat open on Gary’s phone like a challenge.

Date. Time. Address. No ambiguity. No wiggle room. Just a neat little block of text that represented responsibility, consequences, and a chair he very much did not want to sit in.

Gary read it again. Then again, just to make sure it hadn’t changed while he wasn’t looking.

It hadn’t.

He leaned back on the sofa and let out a slow breath, feeling the familiar ache in his jaw respond with a dull throb. Not angry. Not urgent. Just present. Like it was reminding him that this was real now, and that pretending otherwise would no longer work.

This was the furthest he’d ever got.

Not just with the tooth, but with anything that required follow-through instead of improvisation. Normally, this was the point where he’d get distracted, overconfident, or convinced that delaying counted as a plan.

He picked up his phone and typed a message.

Booked it. Properly. No backing out.

He hovered over the send button for a second longer than necessary, then pressed it before he could reconsider.

The reply didn’t come immediately, which gave Gary just enough time to imagine worst-case interpretations. Then the screen lit up.

Good. I’m proud of you.

That landed harder than expected.

Gary stared at the words, feeling something tighten and then loosen in his chest. Pride wasn’t something he was used to being on the receiving end of. Especially not for doing something he should’ve done days ago.

Still, it counted.

He set the phone down and looked around his flat. Same furniture. Same mess. Same slightly off-kilter life. But it didn’t feel as oppressive as it had before. Not fixed. Just… pointed in a direction.

Tomorrow, he’d sit in the chair. Tomorrow, he’d face it properly.

Gary stood, stretched carefully, and felt a flicker of something unfamiliar.

Confidence.

Not the fake kind. The quiet kind that came from actually doing the thing.

Attend the appointment and face the chair → Page 61

Bottle it, reschedule “for later,” and avoid → Page 66