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?”