How are you? What would you like to talk about? Mum’s script. Phrases form on her lips, things she’s said a thousand times before. I imagine her saying the same things to her clients. Sometimes when I arrive at her door she seems to think I’m one of them. Sometimes I go along with that too.

I spilled. I had so much swirling around my head, and it wasn’t like I had anyone else to tell. I’d thought about calling Izzy. Not seriously thought about it, just felt annoyed with her that I couldn’t tell her everything about Ruby and find out what she thought. If she hadn’t messed up our friendship with her lies and betrayal, I could be dissecting it all with her right now. I didn’t choose the dramatic loner life, it chose me.

Still, I had Mum, and it was easier to tell her things now that I would have never told her before. Every cloud and all that guff. I’d much rather she was well and trying to pry information about my life out of me like everyone else’s mother, of course. It had taken me weeks to admit to her that Hannah and I had started seeing each other. I remember her sitting me down very seriously to ask if something was going on with us. When I told her that we were going out now, she cried. Happy tears. She said she’d always hoped we’d finally see how perfect we were for each other and she said something silly about our future wedding. I had rolled my eyes and said we weren’t getting married, for God’s sake. I was pleased, really, but I was fourteen and I couldn’t say that out loud.

“I met a girl.” I blew on my tea to cool it down and Mum copied me. “I think she likes me.”

Mum put her hand on mine and squeezed. “That’s great,” she said.

“The thing is, liking her is kind of the problem.”

Mum looked like she was not quite following my train of thought. But who would? That statement was objectively nonsensical. Still, I don’t like to let awareness of my own absurdity get in the way of expressing it. Mum frowned, like she was trying to concentrate. You don’t lose your intelligence when you have dementia, but it can be harder to express it in the way you’re used to. At least that’s what the doctor said. I continued anyway.

“She thinks that if we both know when it’s ending, no one can get hurt.” I ran my finger around the rim of the teacup, not really expecting a response. “That was the worst thing about Hannah dumping me, Mum. I never saw it coming. Do you think this could work or is it a terrible idea?”