"After. It was... a difficult span of time. It still is, really."

Hm. But leaving aside that Watson has come here in what is objectively the worst period of his entire life, because if some momentary fourth-wall breaking is allowed then he's being puppeted by a monster, evidently that name didn't mean anything to her. There is no Mary Morstan for her, nor any similar name. No... Mark Morstan or anything. Instead... Mycroft. He'll have to assume the Mycroft she knows is a little different than the one he knew, but then, her Holmes apparently fell in love with a woman, and Watson can't imagine that either.

Mycroft.

"I don't understand how we have so much in common, and yet so much is so different," Watson says, baffled. "Mycroft, really?"