Feeling normal again made Gary bold.

Too bold.

He mistook the easing of pain for emotional clearance. The fear that had kept him cautious evaporated, replaced by confidence that arrived without checking whether it was welcome.

Messages became flirtier. Plans became firmer. Suggestions edged closer to expectation.

When he suggested taking things further, there was a pause on the other end that lasted just a second too long.

“I think we should slow down,” she said carefully.

Gary laughed, trying to smooth it over. “I’m good now. Honestly.”

She didn’t laugh back.

“I know,” she replied. “That’s not what I meant.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than the ache in his jaw ever had. Gary realised he’d pushed because he was afraid of losing momentum, not because the moment was right.

He apologised quickly. Earnestly. But the damage was done. Trust didn’t vanish, but it wobbled.

Now he had to decide how to respond. He could take responsibility, accept the boundary, and recalibrate properly. Or he could retreat, embarrassed and wounded, letting pride do what it always did best.

Apologise sincerely and slow things down → Page 73

Sulk, withdraw, and let pride take over → Page 75