TORTURED SOUL | abby littman

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲.

     
     
     
     

chapter thirty one

{ unedited }

      
      
      
      

THE SILENCE WAS DEAFENING. Minutes were ticking by without a word being spoken by the two. Paul was waiting for Rowan to talk while Rowan was waiting for the session to be over. It was to last an hour and a half and had changed from once a week to twice, once on Wednesday and once on Sunday. Rowan wasn't sure why it changed but it meant seeing Cameron would go from in five weeks' time to three at most.

"This'll go a lot quicker if you talk," Paul said as Rowan's gaze flickered to the clock, withholding a sigh when realising it had only been five minutes. She looked around the room, taking everything in from the certificates to the family pictures. It was strange seeing Stevie so little but they were in one of the pictures, squished between their dads with a tooth missing, big smiles on all three of them.

It still felt strange for Rowan to see pictures of a happy family.

"Rowan?"

"Is it weird having the same name as the mayor?" Rowan asked, turning to the man seated opposite her. She didn't like how he was in a chair but she was stuck on a couch. "Must be weird hearing your name everywhere but is never about you."

"We're not here to talk about me, Rowan, we're here about you."

"I don't know what you want me to say." Paul gave her a look that she didn't like, one that made it seem like she was purposefully keeping to herself but she honestly wasn't sure what she needed to talk about here. "What, you wanna hear about how my father likes to get drunk and beat the shit out of me? Pretty sure you've already got that in your file."

"That's not why we're here."

"No? It's not for the stupid little investigation?" Though her words came off harsh, Rowan was genuine in her question. She thought that was the only reason she would need to be in this damned place.

"No, it's not." Paul remained calm despite the hostility Rowan was showing him, which surprised her. How could he still be so nice to her? Be so kind? It didn't make sense to her. "It's for you."

"I don't need therapy."

"Maybe not but there's no harm in it." Rowan waited for him to continue, to give some hint of what he wished to hear, to what he wanted the two to discuss, but he remained silent, only staring at her with an expectant look.

"Look, just tell me what to say and we'll be done here."

"I'm afraid that's not how it works. If you want me to get you into contact with Cameron, you need to make progress. That doesn't mean me feeding you everything you think I want to hear. You have to be open, Rowan, on your own without needing me to spoonfeed you."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Rowan repeated, more firmly this time with a hint of frustration in her voice.

Paul sighed and opened the file that was in his lap, untouched until now. Rowan watched as he skimmed through the pages, quiet for a long time. Rowan wasn't sure what was written in those for Paul to take this long to read. "You're a bit of a perfectionist, aren't you?" Paul asked, looking up from the file and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "All your grades have never been less than perfect, all the way since 5th grade. No one tries that hard that early but you? You've been top of the class since you were ten."