Gary hesitated.

Not because he didn’t want to stay. Wanting to stay was easy. It was the part after that which worried him. The expectations. The consequences. The possibility that the night might keep escalating until his tooth staged a full-blown coup in public.

“I might not be great company,” he said carefully. “Given the… face situation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing fine.”

“Debatable,” Gary replied. “I’m operating at about sixty percent and all of that’s coming from beer.”

She smiled, amused but unconcerned. “You’re honest. You’re trying. And you haven’t passed out yet.”

Gary chuckled, keeping the movement minimal. “High bar. But I appreciate it.”

He looked down at the table, tracing a faint ring left by someone else’s pint. The pub noise washed over him again — laughter, music, someone shouting an order that didn’t exist. Normal life. Life that felt slightly out of reach.

“I just don’t want to ruin your night,” he said quietly. “You didn’t sign up for… whatever this is.”

She considered that for a moment. “You’re not ruining anything,” she said. “But you are running out of time with that tooth.”

Gary sighed. She had a point. An irritatingly accurate one.

This was the fork in the road. Stay and risk things getting complicated — medically, emotionally, or both — or bow out now while he still had a shred of dignity and an intact memory of the evening.

Gary straightened in his chair, jaw aching, heart thumping.

He had to choose.

Take the risk and continue the night → Page 46

Thank her and bow out gracefully → Page 40