Page 140 of Men in Shorts

“If I’d suffered some sort of injury, or if my ordeal had lasted longer. Or if I weren’t a fucking lord. I’ve got everything, and only a tiny piece of me’s been stolen. Other people who’ve been hurt, they never had as much, so when that bit gets taken away, they’ve got much less left of themselves.”

“Which people? Do you mean Colin, or are there others as well?”

“Yes, here.” Andrew pulled out his phone. “This girl my age from Hartlepool tagged me on Instagram. Her father used to beat her and her mum on a weekly basis.” He brought up the post and handed his phone to his therapist. “She went into foster care when she was fourteen. Her mum died shortly thereafter.”

Dr. Thomson put on her glasses and scanned the post. “May I read the first part aloud?”

“I’ve already seen it. I know what it says.”

“Just humor me.”

“Suit yourself.” Andrew flicked his hand at her, already nervous at the sight of someone else holding his phone.

She cleared her throat and began. “‘Thank you, Lord Andrew, for telling the truth about how hard it is. When someone like you has the courage to be real, it makes all survivors stronger.’”

“What does she mean, someone like me?”

“What do you think she means?”

He shrugged. “Rich and powerful, I guess.”

“Have you felt powerful since your attempted abduction?”

“I—” He gave an exasperated sigh. “No, of course not. But it’s not how Ifeelwhich matters. How Ifeeldoesn’t match with reality, and that’s why—” He gestured to the room. “I guess that’s why I’m here.”

She furrowed her brow. “Explain.”

“That’s what madness is, right? When you experience things which aren’t real?”

Dr. Thomson held up Andrew’s phone. “This girl used the word ‘real’ to describe you. She saw something in your post that felt genuine to her. Are you claiming she’s mad?”

“Of course she’s not mad. She’s just been through hell.” He stopped, wondering if he’d been tricked into admitting something. “Give me that.”

He took back his phone and looked at the selfie of the girl from Hartlepool. She stood barefoot on a wooden floor, wearing what looked like a white karate kit cinched at the waist with a black belt. In the mirrored wall behind her he could see her dark ponytail hanging between her shoulder blades. For the photo, she’d struck a stance of defensive power and strength.

“I’m in awe of this lass,” he said.

“I think the feeling is mutual.” As he started to shake his head, Dr. Thomson continued. “Andrew, the two of you have something in common. She sees it. You see it. Would you tell her she’s not earned the right to feel pain?”

“Of course not.”

“Based on her post, do you think she’d sayyou’venot earned your feelings?”

He scrunched up his face, feeling on the verge of an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t follow.”

“This girl sees in you a fellow survivor, even though your experiences were different and by most measures hers were worse. Even though, if this were the Great British Adversity-Off, she’d win in a landslide.”

He scoffed. “It’s not a competition.”

Dr. Thomson fell silent, letting Andrew’s words hang in the air. He replayed them in his mind, where their echo told him all he needed to know.

Chapter14

“I cannae believethere’s still spirits left.” Colin picked up the bottle of bourbon from the kitchen worktop and eyed its contents. “Our mates must be getting old.” He’d expected his fellow Warriors to be in a wilder mood after their hard-fought sixth-round cup win today.

“For a twenty-first birthday party, it was tragically civilized.” Andrew smiled at him from the dining area. “I loved it.”

“Good.” Despite Andrew’s request for a small gathering of close friends—rather than his usual blowout birthday bash—Colin had worried he would be underwhelmed at the result. “Now gonnae stop tidying up or I’ll see you never live to be twenty-two.”

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