Gary decided humour was still his strongest remaining weapon.

“Look,” he said, leaning back slightly, “if it gets any worse I’ll just name it and charge it rent.”

She laughed. “You’re really trying to charm your way through this, aren’t you?”

“Always,” Gary said. “It’s my coping mechanism.”

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You’re lucky it hasn’t turned nasty.”

Gary opened his mouth to reply and immediately froze as a sharp spike of pain lanced through his jaw. His eyes watered. His shoulders tensed.

She noticed instantly.

“Okay,” she said, leaning forward now. “That’s not charming. That’s bad.”

Gary swallowed carefully. “I might have… underestimated it.”

“You think?”

She glanced around the pub, then back at him. “You should really see someone.”

“I know,” Gary said quietly. “I just didn’t want to think about it.”

Her expression softened again. “Ignoring pain doesn’t make you brave. It just makes things worse.”

Gary nodded. He’d never considered that angle. He usually just called it resilience.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then she smiled faintly.

“Sit properly,” she said. “You’re going to fall off that chair.”

Gary adjusted himself gingerly.

This conversation was going somewhere. He just hoped it wasn’t the hospital.

Lean into the honesty → Page 31

Laugh it off and change subject → Page 33