I glance behind me at the window—the sun dropped in the sky over the last hour, and it’s now dark outside. I stand up abruptly from my leather chair, so quickly that it glides across the room, slamming into the wall behind me. I can’t ignore these messages. I’ve known EJ for a long time, and he will not let this go.

I take my phone with me to the front door, clutching it in my left hand much the way Paige did when she came to visit. I consider calling 911 but quickly rule it out. EJ has done nothing wrong. Yes, he is on my property, but I have no evidence that I terminated him as a patient. He has not breached my front door. And if he shows the police that video of me, my career is over.

He is calling the shots.

My front door is constructed from the same deep brown wood as the desk in my office—mahogany, I believe—broken up by two opaque panes of glass. There’s a lock and deadbolt on the door, but only a few feet away, there’s a window that could be easily shattered with a rock. I pass the window on the way to the front door and I can make out the shadow in front of my door. I stand there for a moment, hesitating until my phone vibrates in my hand.

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.