Page 87 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

The sunshine and lazy days had done wonders for both of them.

“It’s a very good thing.”

She looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder as they listened to the lapping of waves in the marina. Sun warmed their skin, soaking in all the vitamin D they didn’t get in the grey of Manchester.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, tossing the pebble into the water with his free hand.

“Of course.”

Luke focused on the gentle waves. “I wasn’t sick last night. I had a panic attack.”

“Oh, Luke,” she said, placing her hand on his chest. “Why? Are you okay?”

He was glad he wore sunglasses, thankful for the thin piece of tinted material giving him the courage to continue. Luke sucked in a deep breath. Then, another. “Can I just ramble? Because if I think about it too hard, I might have another.”

Willow rearranged herself on their rock so she faced him, shifting her hand to his leg. “Say whatever you need to say.”

“They started a few weeks ago. I don’t say this so you think it’s your fault. I think part of it is stopping using drugs. Anxiety can be a side effect of coming off coke. I didn’t think I was an addict, but I think my body is telling me different. Plus, there’s shit I need to deal with that is connected to what’s going on here. It doesn’t mean this is a bad thing, it just means I get stressed. Yeah, panicked. I think that’s the best way to describe it.”

“I’m sorry, Luke. I didn’t mean for this to cause you panic attacks. They’re no fun.”

He focused on the way she stroked his leg, a slow and steady back-and-forth that kept his pulse even.

“You didn’t cause it. Alex said something the other day when it happened in front of the band. He said I should speak to someone. And I’m starting to think I should too. I want to be happy with you, Willow. You and our son. And want it to be more than a contract. But I realise I’ve got defences up, and when I try to talk about taking them down, I panic. And it’s not just you. It’s every facet of my life.”

“Can you expand on what you mean without ...?”

Her eyes never left his and finding the confidence from her touch and kisses, he lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked at her. “Without panicking?”

“Yes.”

Luke sat up, and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand softly. “The first time, the band staged an intervention of sorts, to get me to be honest about shit. And Jase asked me if I was fine with a gorgeous woman asking me to pretend to be in love with her so she could save her career, then fuck off back to America and take my kid with her?”

“Luke, no matter what happens to us, you’ll never be out of our lives if you don’t want to be.”

He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. “I know, but I panicked, and I think I misread what it was. And then, it happened again when I was telling them about the ultrasound and what it meant, and I wanted to see a vision of the three of us in the future, happy somewhere, and I couldn’t. Like, I could see you and a little boy on a beach in Malibu, and I could see me here. But not together. Fuck.”

He breathed deeply, and Willow rummaged around in her tote bag. “Here,” she said, thrusting the bottle of water into his hand. “Drink this and just breathe for a few minutes.”

It felt like that was what everybody wanted him to do. Just breathe while iron bars were squeezing his chest. Willow placed her hand on his back, circling softly. He inhaled and exhaled in time to each circle.

“Then, last night,” he began.

“You don’t need to tell me just now.”

“No, I need to get it out, flower. You asked how often do you look back, specifically at something that was tough that you survived, and think how good it was. How much it taught you? How much better you know yourself now? And I feel like all that happened ... I never had time to process any of it. I just had to get on with it. So, I think I shut down a little. Hell, a lot.”

Willow took his hand this time and kissed it before holding it in her lap. “I think talking to someone is a great idea. You need to have a safe space to talk about it, with someone who can navigate questions while recognising what triggers you.”

Luke huffed. “You said a whole bunch of words there, sweetheart, that don’t sound a lot like me.”

“Like what?”

“Safe spaces and triggers. Such snowflake words.”

“They are important words.” Willow smiled at him softly. “You’ll still be my alpha rock star hero.”

Would he?

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