Eva’s Self-Reflection Journal

24 June 2019

1:00 p.m.

Nate has just left to go to his conference and I'm writing this alone in my studio. It's funny how the worst things can turn out to be the best. For a while I suspected I may be pregnant. It was unlike me to be a week late and I began to feel vaguely nauseous. I didn't want to tell Nate, I thought I'd wait until he left the house.

But then he came back unexpectedly, went to the bathroom to get his glasses...and that's when he spotted it. My pregnancy test out on the side. I knew he'd be so disappointed I didn't intend to keep it.

Poor Nate. All he really wanted was to be a father. He came down and confronted me. For a moment he looked devastated, broken. I told him the whole truth, about the affair, how deeply I regretted it all, how much pain I had caused to everyone around me, how irresponsible I had been as a therapist. I began to cry and was so relieved to see that Nate seemed more conciliatory.

"Let's put it behind us," he said. "I love you, Eva."

"I love you too," I whispered, touching his shoulder before he left.

2:00 p.m.

I've just texted Tony. He's on his way round for the very last time. I owe him an explanation and I hope he understands. I know how unpredictable he can be, how carefully I have to handle him. I didn't see it at first. The disturbance, the sickness. It's obvious, really. But I was too taken up with the thrill of it. Forbidden, dangerous.

Psychotherapy was never going to be enough. Almost certainly he has borderline personality disorder. Ideally, I'd have referred him for specialist psychiatric help but I didn't want to involve my supervisor. By then it was all too late. When he told me he felt responsible for his stepfather's death, I assumed it was survivor's guilt, a natural regret that he couldn't have done more that night to save him.

Later, after we started seeing each other, he told me more. Words poured out of him, a confession really, even though by then I didn't want to know. He told me anyway. How he hid the Ventolin inhalers. How he could have saved his father's life but decided to end it instead.

Sometimes I catch Tony looking at me. He unnerves me, those lifeless eyes, what lies behind them. As the minutes tick by I can't help thinking... I'm the only person alive who knows Tony's secret. What if he decides that's one person too many?