Page 100 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

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“There are days when I think I’m just broken,” Luke said, glancing out of Neil’s small window into the tree-lined carpark behind the warehouse, as their session was heading to an end. “Not in a pathetic, woe-is-me kind of broken. But that something in my emotional construct just doesn’t function properly.”

Neil placed his tea down on the side table. “That’s an interesting observation. What made you think it?”

There was no way he was going to explain how he came to that conclusion as he lay sated in the bath, Willow draped on his chest, after they’d made love. “I went to see my mum in Brighton.”

“I see. And how did that go?”

“She apologised. She had reasons. I don’t think they are good enough ones to leave your kids. But they’re her reasons, and it’s not for me to debate their merit. That wasn’t the point. We each said our piece. She apologised. We drove home. And then ... nothing.”

Neil templed his fingers. “What do you mean by nothing?”

Luke huffed. “What I said. Nothing. I wasn’t as angry at her anymore. But nothing replaced that feeling, either. I don’t suddenly love her or whatever it is I’m meant to feel for my mum.”

Neil made a note in his book.

“What did you write?” Luke asked.

“Pardon?”

Luke tipped his chin in the direction of the pages. “You only write in it when I say something that you have a lot of thoughts about and you don’t want to forget something.”

Neil smiled. “Observant. Fine. My thoughts were that I disagree with you. I think it’s because you loved your mum that her leaving hurt so much. The second thought was that it would be very strange for you to go from years of feeling anger toward a person to suddenly loving them and wanting them to be an active part of your life. And third, I was troubled by the notion you believe there’s a correct way to feel about any of this.”

Luke took in a deep breath. “That’s a lot.”

“Yes. And that’s why I write the notes, so we can explore one concept fully before we move on to the next. So it doesn’t overwhelm. But I also don’t want you to sit over there worrying about what I’m writing in here, instead of being fully present while we talk ... so I answered your question.”

“Next time, tell me to mind my own fucking business.”

Neil chuckled. “I’m a therapist. I’m never going to tell you to keep something to yourself.”

“Fair point. So, are we going from the top? I already love Mum, that’s why it hurts, right?”

“Are you agreeing or confirming the comment?”

Luke eyed Neil. “Confirming the comment.”

“Then, yes.”

“Did I love her?” he muttered. He thought back to his childhood. Memories of superhero plasters on cuts. Making mince pies at Christmas. Of lying on the sofa, with his head on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. Comfort and warmth.

His mind suddenly went blank.

Nothing.

Couldn’t even remember the question.

He ran his hands over his face, feeling stupid.

“What’s going on, Luke?”

“I can’t ... what were we talking about?”

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“Everything just ... faded. Like I couldn’t even remember the question. What was it?”

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