Page 63 of The Sound of Him

I try not to look too closely at the food as I leave.

Dr. Singh smiles when I get to his office, welcoming me in and telling me to sit where I want before closing the door behind him. I don’t even have enough time to wonder if he’ll get straight to it or if things will be awkward for a while first before he’s already starting.

“I want to apologize for asking the question I asked in our last session,” he says as he takes his seat across from me. “You don’t have to answer it. Not now. Not ever, if that’s what you want. What I would like is to explainwhyI asked it and then explain why I shouldnothave asked it. Would that be okay?”

All that really registers is that I don’t have to answer the question from before, which sounds fantastic. I nod.

“So, first, it’s important for you to understand that your therapy does not have to address whether you areable- or whether youwant- to speak. We willonlywork on the things that you wantto work on when we are together. I will never push any topics or techniques on you. I may gently nudge you in directions as we move along, like making suggestions, or asking you to consider certain things, but very gently, and just nudging.You’rein control. Always. Do you understand that, Matt? That you’re in control of your therapy?”

I understand what he’s saying, but I’m not entirely sure it’s actually that simple. It sounds nice, though, and it’s not like whether I believe it matters anyway, so I nod again.

“Good.” He smiles, but it’s a little sad. “The reason I asked that question the other day was because I hoped to understand what you want out of our time together. I wanted to know if one of your goals is to speak again, or if you would prefer we don’t pursue that during our sessions. It’s up to you. No one else can decide that for you. No one else even gets a say in it, in fact.”

But Nolan wants me to speak so badly.

Bryce, too.

“No one else,” he repeats firmly, like he can read my mind. I wish he could. Maybe he’d have better luck at sorting out the mess up there. “No one else gets to decide it, okay? The control isyours. Entirely.”

Well, that’s terrifying…

Or comforting?

No, definitely terrifying.

“Okay, Matt?Youchoose what we work on in therapy.Youchoose what you want your goals to be. No one else. Okay?”

I tell myself that I’m breathing, that air is getting into my lungs, but my chest still burns a little. I still somehow manage to nod.

“I do want to say one thing though, okay?” His voice lilts a certain way when he ends his sentences with thoseokays. It’s so gentle, but not the kind of gentle that Nolan or Bryce uses. When they’re gentle, it makes me feel fragile, like any wrong move might shatter me to pieces. When Dr. Singh is gentle, it makes me feel like he can clearly see that I’m already broken, he can see the reality, and he’sstillwilling to help me, still believeshecanhelp me.

“Matt, can you please look at me?”

I force my gaze up to meet his. His smile is happier now. Hopeful.

“I am very confident that I can help you build a healthy, happy, fulfilled life if you give me a chance.Veryconfident. Okay?” I nod slowly, believing in his confidence, even if I don't believe he'll succeed. “Now, whether the ability to speak is a part of that life is entirely up to you. Just like I said, your therapy is in your hands. I just want to make it abundantly clear that my own confidence in our success in getting that life for you isn’t at all affected by which you choose. Do you understand that, Matt?”

When I hesitate, he leans forward and clasps his hands together. His eyes are wide and kind and - and another word - that word - I can’t think of it, but it’s good, it’s a good thing.

“All your choice does is give me the information I need to come up with a plan. It gives me a goal to work toward, if you want to work toward it. That is it. It’s one thing on a list. That’s the only difference your decision will make. I need you to understand that I believe -I truly, with my whole heart, believe - that I can help you obtain happiness with or without you ever speaking another word.”

I squeeze my bunny, not sure when I stuffed my hands in my hoodie pocket. His fur doesn’t feel as soft. Probably because my hands are sweaty and shaking. I hope that doesn’t ruin him.

I promised him I wouldn’t ruin him.

I promised, I promised, I promised, I-

“Matt?” I look at him again. I don’t know when I looked away. It’d be concerning, probably, if I wasn’t so used to my body working on autopilot while my brain spins. All it makes me feel now is tired. “I’m sorry, that was a lot of words. Is that overwhelming, when there are a lot of words at once?”

I want to say yes, but what happens instead is a sort of stiff and awkward shrug.

Earnest. That was the word I was trying to remember earlier. His eyes are soearnest.

“It's okay if a lot of words do overwhelm you, and it’s okay if that’s happening now. I wrote all of this down, just in case you didn’t want to hear my apology. You can take it with you to read later, or to just have as a reminder whenever you need it. This is too important for you not to know, okay?”

I manage a nod this time.

“Can you nod or give me a thumbs-up if you understand that I believe I can help you be happy whether we address your ability to speak or not?”