Page 89 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

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Two days later, Matt and Luke followed the rest of the band out of the studio, watching as they all went their separate ways.

“Are you going to see Iz?” he asked.

Matt nodded. “Yeah. They were short staffed, so she went in to help them out. Thought I’d take her some lunch.”

“I’ll walk with you. I’m headed over to Ancoats.”

The weather was warm for mid-June, and bizarrely, the sun was shining. For a moment, he just tried to find some peace in it.

“What’s on your mind?” Matt asked.

“I owe you an apology.”

Matt frowned. “Yeah? What did you do now?”

“Nothing. I mean, nothing new. I was a dick when you and Iz got together.”

Matt nodded sombrely. “You were. But I got it. I tried really fucking hard to keep that promise to keep my hands off your sister.”

“I know. But I shouldn’t have even said it in the first place, right?”

“I think we both thought we were doing the noble thing. You trying to protect Iz from idiots like me, and me trying to live up to the promise.”

“I’m glad she has you.” Luke turned around after a couple of steps when he realised Matt had stopped.

“How dark a place are you in, mate? Like, should I be concerned you’re saying shit like you’re glad she has me ... as if you won’t be there for her?”

“Shit. No. Nothing like that. I’m actually in a better place. At least, I will be. I found a therapist. But the time with Willow the last few days. Well, I was honest with her about shit. And stuff bubbled up. And I felt shitty about it. The way I spoke to you. And I need to apologise to Iz too.”

“Thank fuck, because I thought we were about to have one of those don’t-jump-because-I-fucking-love-you conversations.”

“For the record, I love you too. Probably haven’t said it to you often enough. But I do.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah.”

They walked the rest of the way to his appointment in a comfortable silence. “I’m here,” Luke said, looking up at the old, converted mill.

“Good luck,” Matt said, slapping his back. “Want us to wait for you?”

“Nah. I’m good. Catch you tomorrow.”

Five minutes later, Luke followed Neil Ralphs up the stairs of the old, converted millhouse. Black cast iron features, a throwback from earlier days when huge bolts of fabric used to be pulleyed around the factory, remained in place. But bright white walls, frosted glass, and refinished floors made it all look contemporary.

And clinical.

Luke tried not to think too hard about what he was about to do.

“Here’s my office,” Neil said, unlocking the door before pushing it open. “Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Just water, please.”

Neil gestured to a black leather chair next to a small side table with a large green plant on it. “Please, take a seat.”

The leather was cool to the touch as he sat. From the window, he could see the street outside bustling with people, and he suddenly had the urge to run. To hurry outside and disappear amongst all the humanity outside, who probably buried their own stuff just as deeply as he buried his.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Luke said. Despite the feeling in his bones that he was about to open a gargantuan can of worms, he mustered the will to be polite. Uncertain about the therapist-to-client relationship rules, he was pretty certain being a dick would not set the right tone.

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