At 38 minutes, “Dirty Pain” is the shortest episode of Aaron Hernandez yet, and I’d be surprised if the recap I’m about to write doesn’t follow a similar pattern. Paranoia is the focus this week, and Lee Edward Colston’s script never strays far from that theme.

In the wake of the shooting that took Sherrod’s eye out — but didn’t kill him — the man isn’t interested in the traditional means of justice. He’s keener on psychologically torturing Aaron than on talking to detectives, and it’s clearly working: As soon as he makes that first call to Aaron from beyond the grave, Aaron rushes home to check on Shayanna and the baby. It only escalates from there. He’s spending hours watching the footage from his newly installed security cameras, tensing up and grabbing his gun whenever a car slows down in front of the house. He’s also smoking more weed than ever, seemingly in a failed attempt to calm himself down. And he gets a new phone number in an effort to hide what’s going on from Shayanna, leaving the old phone as his burner for all the text threats.

To be fair, it’s not as though Aaron’s coming from a place of baseless paranoia: Sherrod is actively stoking his fear, taunting him constantly, and claiming he’s right outside Gillette Stadium just to fuck with him. The show has established that Sherrod is a scary guy, possibly someone who could seek bloody revenge. But Aaron has nobody to blame but himself. Hiding out in California with the family for a few months while recovering from surgery might fix the labral tear in his shoulder, but it won’t address the bigger problem. Even Aaron knows that deep down. He actually visits Bill Belichick during the Scouting Combine to tell an edited version of the story and ask to be traded, which gets a firm “no.” It’s Belichick who suggests Aaron use his trip to L.A. to let everything blow over; if he’s still getting threats at the end of the spring, they’ll just hire some Pats security.

It’s usually not clear exactly how much time passes between scenes on this show, but it seems as if Aaron and Shayanna have only about two or three good days in California before he gets some more unpleasant news: Alexander Bradley, a.k.a. Sherrod, is suing him. Here is where Aaron’s poker face (and poker voice) really fails him. He just cannot believably respond to Brian Murphy over the phone without raising further suspicion, as when the agent mentions, “They’re saying you shot this guy in the face,” and Aaron stammers, “What? No, that’s, that’s crazy; get out of here.” Convincing! And the way he asks how much money Sherrod wants — at least $2 million — immediately sets off alarm bells for Murphy, who reacts with his general “don’t ask, don’t tell” strategy.

At least Aaron has Chris for physical comfort, even if he still refuses to acknowledge anything real in their emotional connection. But I think Chris is one of the biggest question marks in this show, as solid as Jake Cannavale’s performance is. We don’t get any real sense of his interiority; just in the previous episode, he made some great points in ending things with Aaron, but now he’s sending “I miss you” texts and happily resuming their sexual relationship even though nothing has really changed on either end. Their reunion in this episode only really feels like it exists to fill Aaron with shame and push him closer to the edge.

And at this point, it seems unlikely that life will ever really be great for Aaron again. Keep in mind that his NFL career is essentially over now, even if nobody knows it yet. By the end of June, he’ll be in jail and charged with first-degree murder. “Dirty Pain” doesn’t introduce Odin Lloyd, but it sets up his murder when it comes to immersing us in the psychological state of his killer. Aaron can’t spend an evening alone with the baby without the aid of weed, beer, and Oxy — the last two of which he picks up simultaneously at the pharmacy. These invented bits of dark comedy may feel a little strange given the grimness of the real-life story, but they’re a welcome change from the overwhelming darkness of the latter half of the season.

Of course, Aaron falls asleep instead of watching the baby or tending to her dirty diapers, and, of course, he reacts with rage when Shayanna calls him out on his constant lies and secrets. His latest half-truth — that the “I miss you” texts were harmless messages from his old trainer, not from a woman — doesn’t console her. In fact, it leads to a visit from the cops when Aaron gets violent, knocking a vase off the mantel and screaming at Shayanna for the baby. Both maintain the story that they were “roughhousing” so the cops don’t inquire too deeply, but you get the sense that Aaron wouldn’t get in any lasting trouble even if they told the truth. He’s a celebrity, and at least one of the cops at their door is a fan.

Aaron Hernandez has showcased a lot of its title character’s demons, but this is possibly the first episode in which he seems truly depressed and capable of anything. It does come as a bit of a surprise when D.J. finds his brother sitting on the beach with a gun, but it makes sense — this is a man at the height of his powers, with more money than God, but who’s quickly realizing that a happy life requires more than money and fame. It requires you to live your life truthfully and sincerely. However, for Aaron Hernandez, that will never really be possible again.

The scene with the brothers is probably the peak of this episode, a genuinely emotional moment that hits because of the characters’ history. D.J. acknowledges that he would give up everything for the life Aaron has, but he’s missing so much of the full story. He has no way of knowing what’s going on in Aaron’s head, so all he can offer are platitudes when he should be taking Aaron’s “I’m not okay” confession as a serious cry for help. Evoking their father is enough to give Aaron the drive to pick himself back up and be there for his family, but there’s an irony there. That constant pressure from the ghost of Dennis Hernandez is part of the reason Aaron is struggling so much in the first place.

In the final scene, Aaron is seemingly rejuvenated, stocked with a new security team and a whole hidden shelf of guns in a secret apartment. That ending shot almost implies some tense home-invasion shoot-out action next week, but that’s not the type of story we’re watching. This is a story about one man in particular and all the mistakes he failed to learn from. There’s no joy in watching a man crumble.

• That shot of the doctors removing bullet fragments from Sherrod’s eye socket was cool but also pretty nasty and graphic for this show, no? I was kind of shocked.

• Personally, if I were a cop and heard a shooting victim say “I’ll take care of this on my own,” I would be a little concerned.

• Only a brief appearance by General Hospital’s Dominic Zamprogna as Alex Guerrero, Tom Brady’s miracle trainer.

• “Who are you texting with?” “Nobody.” Smooth, Aaron.