The Therapist

by B.A. Paris

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ He looks over to where I’m standing. ‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Are you our new neighbour?’ And I find myself staring at a man I’ve never seen before.

‘I’m sorry, Ms Dawson, but Mr Curtis already has the facts. He knew the history of the house before he made his offer. He knew why it had stood empty for over a year, why it was cheaper than it should have been.’ He pauses, giving me time to absorb what he’s saying. ‘When he came back with his offer, I asked him if he was sure you were alright with it, because although we had a few couples who agreed to view the house, they said they wouldn’t feel comfortable living there. Mr Curtis assured me that you were fine with it, that you were willing to overlook its history because it meant you’d be able to keep your cottage – in Sussex, I believe?’ Another pause. ‘I’m sorry, Ms Dawson, but you really need to talk to Mr Curtis.’

Wtf???

But we all have darkness within us and the deeper it’s buried, the more interesting it is.

Apart from Justine Bartley having long blond hair,

I’ve just read up on the case and apparently, the police couldn’t find any trace of a therapist called Dr Smith. What if that wasn’t his real name? Maybe they didn’t run off together, maybe he murdered her.’

Nina used to go with them but she stopped, because on Wednesdays, she saw her therapist. And that’s when I know. He is the therapist.

‘Live the life you have. You’ve spent the last twenty years living in the past. Now you have a whole life ahead of you. Don’t let guilt consume you. We all make mistakes.’