Charlie didn't interupt her. He stayed on his side of the desk as he listened. He watched and listened. The detective had wondered how long she'd stay quiet, letting what he supposed was pain swell up inside her. There were times he didn't think the doctor was a right fit for her, but he would never tell her as much because he could have been wrong. There were other times the doctor seemed a nice counterpart, what he knew of the doctor anyway.
He nodded slightly, perhaps in agreement to her last statement, perhaps simply to nod. He grabbed the box of tissues that seemed to always be on their desk, even now when the City had gone quiet. He set the box of tissue with its muted blue on blue flowers in her line of sight without making her lift her head from her "important" work.
"Perhaps you must feel the pain to know you are growing. Growth always heals, makes things stronger." He shrugged. "Or you could always avoid her and wonder if the pain will ever go away. It won't. It never does." He was speaking from experience. "But, it fades, changes, opens you to something else."
He nudged the box a little further on her desk. "Though some have said you've been having interesting encounters with a guy who has..." Charlie shook his head in slight disappointment perhaps. "A very spotted past. If his past can really be found. He exists, yet he doesn't."