Why are you just standing there, Doc? Open the door for me.
I grit my teeth. I twist open the deadbolt, then turn the lock. I take a quick calming breath, remembering that I know EJ better than he knows me. I know all his strengths and weaknesses. He’s intelligent and manipulative, but he’s also impulsive. He may have caught me in a moment of weakness, but I can outsmart him.
I yank open the door, and there he is. Wearing a Michael Kors jacket, no doubt purchased with his wealthy parents’ money. His sun-streaked blond hair is slightly disheveled, and he has a smirk on his lips. EJ is handsome—that is undeniable, although he’s on the shorter side, which gives him a bit of a Napoleon complex. During the time I have been treating him, he has been in relationships of varying length—anywhere from one night to six months—with countless women. The one-night stands got off easy. I pity any woman whose path crossed with this man.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Doc?” he asks.
I don’t want him in my house, but again, I have little choice in the matter. So I step back and allow him to saunter inside.
“You got such a nice place here, Doc,” EJ comments like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Nice furniture too. You have great taste. Is that real leather?”
“What do you want?” I say through my teeth.
He takes a step back, blinking at me. “Hey. Doc, come on. Don’t be upset at me.”
“Don’t be upset at you?” My right hand balls into a fist while my left still clutches my phone. “You were following me. You recorded me without my consent.”
“I wasn’t following you. It was a coincidence.”
Like many people, EJ has a tell. I know when he’s lying. A little muscle under his right eye twitches whenever he tells a lie. It’s twitching now, but it’s not like I wouldn’t know he was lying. How could he possibly just happen to run into me at a strip mall an hour away from here?
But it doesn’t matter. Whether or not he was following me, he has the video.
I hug my chest. “What do you want?”
“Look.” EJ focuses his gray eyes on me. “I don’t want to make trouble for you, Doc. I swear. I just felt like you were really helping me and I was sad when you gave up on me. All I want is to start our sessions again.”
My jaw falls open. “You want to start sessions again? With me?”
“That’s right.”
The thought of being alone in the therapy room with EJ makes my skin crawl. “I don’t think that’s appropriate. Let me refer you to one of my colleagues. I… I can pay the bill for your sessions.”
There are a few psychiatrists from my training that I would love to foist this guy off on. It would be my pleasure.
But EJ shakes his head. “No, you already offered that, and it’s not what I want. You and I were making great progress. You’re the best. I want you.”
“I really feel like I’ve gone as far as I can with you.”
“I disagree.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. “Fine. Two sessions a month.”
“We were doing once a week before.”
“I don’t have that many openings in my schedule anymore.”
He clucks his tongue. “I don’t know, Doc. Maybe you should make an opening then.”
I can do this. I can sit with this man for an hour once a week and pretend to listen to his problems. I’ve done worse.
“Fine,” I say. “But that’s it, okay?”
EJ holds up his hands. “That’s all I want. Just an hour of your time once a week so I can get better. I won’t ask for anything else. I promise.”
As he says the words, the muscle under his right eye twitches.
Chapter 21
Transcript of Recording
This is session 138 with EJ, a 29-year-old man suffering from narcissistic personality disorder.
“It’s nice to be back on your sofa, Doc.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I appreciate you taking me back.”
“Well, it’s not like I had a choice, did I?”
“Don’t be like that, Doc. Look, you should be flattered. You were really helping me. That’s all I wanted. You’re so good at what you do.”
“Yes, well… what did you want to discuss today?”
“I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been feeling bored with everything. Like, there isn’t anything exciting going on in my life.”
“Maybe that’s a sign you should look for work.”