"It isn't a matter of trust, sweetie," she replied quickly, deeply affected by the thought that he would even think so. "You know you have mine implicitly." Despite their time together, she had still not grown used to this Doctor's willingness to communicate. So much of her energy with his previous incarnation had been spent on keeping pace with him, learning that there were some things that were best kept to oneself, particularly where the Doctor was concerned. "It's just old habits, you see." She unconsciously touched her right wrist, the one the Doctor had repaired those years ago in Manhattan. He had shown tenderness then, and she had reacted with anger. How would she react now?
"Old wounds," she finally added on, and then, tentatively, "We don't really do this, you and I. We're not the bare our souls type. Are you certain you want to start now?" The question seemed to hang heavy in the air, so River sidestepped the awkwardness the best way she knew how, by making light of the situation. "Why have you never taken on a psychologist as a companion? I feel like there's a few of us who could use a good therapy session."