The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51: 051: His Name On my lips

~ ROSELLE ~

I arrive at Dr. Morrison’s office just in time, 9:00 a.m. on the dot.

As usual, she’s seated in one of her elegant chairs, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, her gaze fixed on the computer screen in front of her.

The moment she notices me, her face lights up with a warm smile. I settle onto the comfortable couch across from her, and she smiles even wider.

"Morning, Roselle," she says, looking up with a warm smile. "You look brighter today. That’s nice to see. So, how have things been since our last session?"

I take a slow breath and begin signing, hands moving steadily as I pour out everything—the visit to Westbrook, the confrontation with Warren, the fifty-percent share, the shower incident, waking up this morning feeling lighter... and the way my voice slipped out yesterday when I shrieked. I even confess how badly I want to say Ronan’s name.

She listens patiently, nodding, occasionally jotting notes.

"That’s wonderful, Roselle," she says gently. "Do you know what that means? Your body is beginning to trust that it’s safe again. The fact that you’re making sounds now—even unintentionally—is a really positive sign. It means that grip the trauma had on your voice is starting to loosen,"

I nod, tears beginning to form in my eyes.

"I want to speak his name," I sign, my hands trembling slightly. "I want to look at him and say ’Ronan’ out loud. But every time I try, it gets stuck somewhere in my throat."

"That’s completely normal," Dr. Morrison says gently. "Your voice was stolen from you at a crucial moment of trauma. Reclaiming it isn’t about forcing it. It’s about feeling safe enough that your body decides to release it on its own."

She pauses, letting that sink in.

"Tell me about Ronan. How do you feel when you’re with him?"

I consider the question carefully, my mind immediately drifting to Ronan. I picture him smiling down at me, his gentle touches, handing me Rose, standing up for me, protecting me. Warmth blooms in my chest as the memories settle over me.

Then I raise my hands and sign. "I feel safe and protected and maybe I’m finally allowed to exist and my pain matters to him."

"And do you believe that’s true?" Dr. Morrison asks.

I hesitate, then nod slowly.

"I’m beginning to," I sign.

"That’s significant progress, Roselle," she says, her voice filled with quiet pride. "A few weeks ago, you believed you were worthless. You blamed yourself for everything that happened and thought you didn’t deserve kindness or protection. Now you’re telling me that your pain matters and that you matter. That’s a remarkable step forward."

She leans back in her chair.

"I want to try something, if you’re willing. I want you to close your eyes and think about Ronan. Think about a moment with him that made you feel safe, really picture it, allow yourself to feel it. And then, when you’re ready, I want you to try to say his name, don’t force it. Just let it come naturally if it wants to."

I close my eyes.

Images flood my mind, Ronan’s eyes watching me with absolute certainty, his hand holding mine as we walked into Westbrook, the way he kissed my forehead last night, the breakfast he made this morning. The way he looked at me in the shower, hungry and possessive and absolutely devoted.

My chest expands. My throat opens.

"Ronan," I voice, my eyes widening in disbelief. I’m in awe of myself... in awe that I did it... that I said his name on the very first try.

Dr. Morrison’s eyes are shining with tears.

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