The pub hit Gary like a wall of noise.

Music thumped. Glasses clinked. Someone laughed far too loudly. Someone else was explaining football tactics to a man who clearly hadn’t asked. His head throbbed in protest, but the chaos was familiar. Comforting, even. If he had to be in pain, this was the correct environment.

Regulars nodded as he passed. Someone shouted his name. Gary lifted a hand in response, careful not to move his face too much. His jaw pulsed in time with the bass, but he pressed on, drawn forward by habit and faint hope.

Then he saw her.

Behind the bar. Calm. Confident. Pulling a pint with the relaxed efficiency of someone who knew exactly what they were doing and didn’t need approval from anyone. Hair tied back. Clean clothes. Clean shoes. The unmistakable aura of a woman whose life was not held together with blind optimism and denial.

The dentist.

Gary attempted to swallow. His tooth pulsed sharply in response, like a tiny union rep raising a safety complaint. This felt significant. Dangerous. Possibly stupid.

He could get a drink first. Steady himself. Lower the pain and raise his confidence to acceptable flirting levels. Or he could act now, before fear arrived and ruined everything.

Neither option felt sensible. Both felt inevitable.

Gary shifted his weight, jaw aching, heart thudding.

What does Gary do?

Get a drink to steady himself → Page 14

Hover awkwardly and watch her → Page 15