“Is it?” He felt like a pathetic puppy dog needing some reassurance.
“It would be stupid of me to pretend everything is perfect. I’ve got a lot of baggage of my own. But there’s something beneath the noise of all this. When it’s just you and me and Cletus, it’s more than enough. It’s the outside world that starts to detract points. Stress with my dad, your history.”
Luke cupped her cheek. “Then, let’s focus on us, Will. Let’s make time and space to work on ourselves and each other. We owe it to Cletus.”
“I’ll do it because we owe it to ourselves. No one else. And because whatever you and I are, we owe it to each other to bring the very best version of ourselves to this relationship. When we do that, we can help each other.”
Her words inspired him. The best version of himself. Fuck, he hadn’t been that for a really long time. It was time he cleaned up his act. Right then and there, he made the decision to stop with the drugs.
“I’ll meet you back here on these rocks a year from now. No matter what happens between you and I. Promise me we’ll meet up here and see how far we’ve come, yeah?”
Willow kissed him gently. “I promise.”
15
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.
“I’m glad you decided to make an appointment. Obviously, our phone call to see if I could be of assistance was informative, and I really believe I can help you navigate your current confusion.”
“My head’s all over the place. I just had to tell my best mate I’m sorry for stopping him hooking up with my sister thanks to a prehistoric pact we made.”
“Tell me more about that?”
“I thought we were here to talk about my past.”
Neil smiled. “Isn’t this your past . . . if it’s prehistoric?”
Luke shrugged. “I suppose so. When my dad died, I guess I wanted to step into his shoes. Take care of my mum and sister, yeah. So, I told my mates to keep their hands off Iz because I knew what they were all like. Horny teens ready to bang anything that bounced.”
“Why did you think you were the gatekeeper of your sister’s sexual expression?”
Luke did a double take. “That wasn’t it. They were man whores. You don’t want that shit for the women in your lives, right?”
“There’s absolutely zero judgement from me about this, but from what you told me on the phone, you’ve led a very promiscuous existence. Do you think you don’t deserve the woman you are in a relationship with, either?”
“Willow?”
“Yes, Willow.”
“Of course I don’t deserve her.”
“I like to think it’s much simpler and altogether more complex than that. The notion of saint versus sinner runs much deeper. What I would say is it’s very positive that you recognise it wasn’t healthy and made peace with your friend, if not yourself, about it. But we’ll come back to this in another session.” Neil made a note in his book. “I had a thought after we spoke on the phone about your dad. I want you to tell me about your dad, but I want you to pretend he’s sitting right next to you. What kind of man was he?”
Luke looked to his right, trying to visualise him sitting right there in the matching black leather chair. When he captured the spirit of him in his mind, he smiled. “He was a good man. A protector and provider. He took looking after the three of us seriously. As a firefighter, he’d work all these different shifts. Days on and days off. Nights. Whatever. But I don’t ever recall there being a day when he wasn’t there for me.”
Neil smiled. “You respected him?”
“I did. Although, he was a strict disciplinarian. I remember getting bounced into next week by him when I tried to alter my school report one year. I thought he was going to have a coronary in the kitchen. He grounded me for two weeks. Took away my video games. Then, at the end of the two weeks, he sat me down, told me he wouldn’t have been pissed at my original grades, but would have wanted to know what he could do to get my grades up again.”