The pub looked different the second time around.

Quieter, for one thing. The late-night rush had thinned, leaving pockets of conversation and half-empty glasses. The music was lower. The lights felt harsher. Less forgiving.

Gary hovered just inside the doorway, suddenly very aware of how stupid this might look.

Had anyone even noticed him leave?

He scanned the room, heart thumping harder than his jaw. The regulars were still there. The dartboard still occupied by the same argument. The bar still sticky in that reassuringly awful way.

Then he saw her.

Still behind the bar. Still calm. Still very much present.

Gary hesitated, letting the moment stretch. He could turn around now. No one would stop him. He could pretend this was a bold, cinematic exit rather than a retreat from courage.

Instead, he took a breath and walked toward the bar.

She looked up as he approached, surprise flickering briefly across her face before settling into curiosity.

“You’re back,” she said.

“Yeah,” Gary replied. “I realised I left my dignity here earlier.”

She smiled despite herself.

That felt like something.

Apologise properly → Page 44

Make a joke and test the mood → Page 45