“I panicked. First, I yelled at him and told him he needed to leave me alone.”
“How did he take that?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t really react. Then again, I was too shocked to really think about what was happening. Then, I showed him this,” I said, holding up my hand with a ring on my third finger.
“Oh,” Dr. Malone said, as if this was the most shocking part of my whole story. He even scooted back in his seat a few inches. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
“I’m not,” I sighed, exasperatedly. “I sometimes wear this fake ring when I go outside so men don’t hit on me. I’ve found that public transportation is a place where weirdoes go to ask women out on dates. To be honest, this creep has put me off dating for the most part.”
“It’s a fake ring,” he repeated to himself, as if it were a crazy plot twist that he was trying to digest.
“In hindsight,” I continued, “he probably suspected that it was a lie. I mean, if he could find me, he probably knows even more about me. I think he’s caught me in a lie and I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when he confronts me about it.”
“Did you call the police?” Dr. Malone asked. “If you haven’t had the chance, I can have someone come in here and file a report. I’ll be a witness if you need one.”
“It’s no use,” I said. “I’ve been through this before. They’re not going to be able to do anything for me. If he hasn’t verbally or physically threatened me, no one is going to waste their time on this.”
“But he’s obviously a threat or you wouldn’t be this nervous,” he objected.
“Like I said, I’ve been through this before. I thought that moving here would settle it, but I might just have to move again.”
Dr. Malone stood up. “There’s got to be a better way.”
“I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do,” I said, tears leaking down my cheeks now. “He’s an extremely jealous person, so he’s not going to like the fact that I’m supposedly taken. The problem is, he’s going to try to approach me again. But, I’m going to be alone. He really scares me.”
I tried to compose myself, but the more I thought about what Jake was capable of, the more afraid I became. He could be charming when he wanted to be. He was smart and persistent. For a regular guy, these were good qualities, but for a stalker, they were a nightmare combination.
I wasn’t in a great position to defend myself either. I was out of my element in a city where I was merely a visitor as far as that was concerned. I didn’t have any family or friends there. I had some friends from my classes, but they were more like acquaintances than good friends. I certainly didn’t feel like going to any of them with my serious problems.
Then there was my condition. With epilepsy, I was in constant fear that I would have a seizure and lose control of my body. There were times when I completely lost consciousness in public and injured myself. I didn’t want to lose my independence, so I just started going out less. I went to and from campus once a day and kept all other trips outside to a minimum if I was alone.
Because of my seizures, I couldn’t drive a car. That meant that I either had to walk, take public transportation, or find a ride with someone. Money was tight, so cabs were only called in emergencies. Even then, there was no quick method of escape. If Jake showed up at my house, I couldn’t just get in my car and go.
I felt completely hopeless. If I couldn’t figure out a way to protect myself, then I would have to move back home. My family members all had their own problems to deal with, so I would be putting some strain on them, but I didn’t have many options.
It would be pretty devastating to leave Berkeley. I was so close to having my MBA and starting a career. If I had to move back home, I don’t know if I would ever make it back to graduate. With my condition, being able to get a good job with health benefits would mean everything to me.
I began to get up from my seat, sensing that Dr. Malone may have bitten off more than he could chew by telling me to spill the beans about why I was so upset. “Is the exam over?” I asked. “I should get out of your hair.”
“No,” he said, holding his hand out. “Stay. I don’t want you to leave here unless you have somewhere safe to go.”
“I’ll grab the next bus and head toward campus,” I said. “I can just stay at the library until it closes.”
He gritted his teeth. “Isn’t there something safer?” he asked. “Can you stay with a friend? Do you have any male friends that can maybe pretend to be your husband until the guy backs off?”
I shook my head, tears pouring freely down my face. “I don’t have anyone like that. There’s no one close enough to put themselves at risk for me.”
“Can your parents come stay with you for a little bit?” he asked, searching for a solution. It was incredibly sweet of him to care so much. This went way beyond his duty as a medical professional.
“They can’t afford to miss work,” I sniffled. “It would be asking way too much from them.”
He handed me a tissue and I wiped my swollen eyes. When I looked back up, his bright, blue eyes were staring back at me.
In that moment, he felt more like a friend than my doctor. In fact, he was the only man I had spent any one on one time with since I moved to California. Our meetings were strictly cordial, but he knew me more intimately than most.
Suddenly, it clicked. I needed someone to temporarily watch out for me and potentially play the role of my husband. Dr. Malone went above and beyond for his patients. It wouldn’t have to be a big deal—I could just hang out at his office for the afternoon and maybe have him give me a ride home at the end of the day. I could even help him with his administrative work if he wanted. I just needed someone to pretend to be connected to me, just so Jake wouldn’t know that I was completely alone.
Nerves bubbled up inside of me. It was a relatively small favor, yet at the same time, it was a lot to ask from my doctor. What would I do if he said no? It would be incredibly awkward for both of us. I didn’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position.
On the other hand, what would I do if he said yes? How would I ever pay him back for helping me out? How would we go back to our doctor-patient dynamic? He was the best doctor I’d had in years and I didn’t want to lose him because we breached the professional line.
When it all came down to it, I had no choice. I wasn’t in a position where I could be picky about my options.
“I have an idea,” I said, my voice shaking. “Would you be willing to help me?”
His brow furrowed, he looked at me with his chiseled face. “How can I help?”
I swallowed hard. “If I had other male friends here, I wouldn’t ask—but will you be my fake husband?”
Chapter Three
Daniel
I pulled at my earlobe, convinced that something was wrong with my hearing. There was no way she was asking what I thought she asked.
“Come again?”
Her face reddened. She looked like she was about to cry again.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I just thought that maybe you would be able to pretend to by my husband. That way, I wouldn’t be caught in a lie and Jake would leave me alone.”
So, I had heard her correctly. She was my favorite patient and all, but I didn’t know if I could pretend to be with her so her stalker would leave her alone. I wanted her to be safe, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle that job.
“Did you go to the police?” I asked in the last attempt to find a better solution.
She groaned. “I told you, it’s not going to do much. If he hasn’t committed a crime, they can’t arrest him. You can’t go to jail just because you’re a creep. Believe me, if that were the case, he would have been in jail a long time ago.”
“But can’t you get a restraining order?”
“I could, but by the time it goes through, it might be too late. Besides, you get him in front of a judge or even a police officer and he can talk his way out
of just about anything.”
I frowned. I didn’t have to specialize in psychiatry to know that was a dangerous combination. When people were a little too charming for their own good, they usually turned out to be scary when challenged by others. If Ariana had to turn him down, it could send him into a rage and he could hurt her. I didn’t want that.
“Do you think he would hurt you?” I asked, nervous to hear her answer.
She shrugged. “The last time I was in contact with him, he told me he loved me and wanted to make things work again. I told him that he was making me nervous and he acted all hurt and offended. He said that he’d never hurt me, but I just don’t know—something about him gives me the creeps now.”
“Was he abusive toward you when you were dating?”
She scoffed. “You could hardly call that dating. He was in one of my undergrad classes and we had to work on a group project together. He seemed pretty nice, so when he asked me to get coffee, I agreed.”