But, with Jake on my heels, distractions were inevitable. I could watch the recorded lectures from home and submit papers through email, but it wasn’t the same as going to class. Eventually, I would have to sit for tests and meet with my advisor. I couldn’t hide forever.
It was kind of Dr. Malone to let me hang out in his office, but I still felt completely embarrassed about asking him to play the role of my husband. When he offered to give me a ride home, he kind of glossed over that part. I hoped that he took my request as the ramblings of a desperate woman and would ignore the part where I asked way too much of him. If I was lucky, he would just forget all about it.
After debating for an hour, I decided to call my mom. I felt bad about bothering her, because I knew she was busy with work, but I was scared and didn’t know where else to turn.
She divorced my father when I was a little kid and raised me all by herself. I never really saw much of my father when I was growing up, but she was more than enough for me. We never had enough money, but we got along just fine.
My upbringing was one of the reasons I wanted to get my MBA. I wanted to have a family of my own one day, and I didn’t want to have to worry about how I was going to feed my child. I wanted to have a good career established before having kids so they would never have to go without. My mom worked hard, so I couldn’t blame her, but things were tough. When I moved out to go to college, she sold the tiny house we shared and moved into a studio apartment. Part of the money from the house went toward my tuition. One day, I wanted to pay her back for that.
“Hi, Mom,” I said when she answered the phone. I tried to keep my voice as normal sounding as possible.
“What’s wrong?” she asked instantly, apparently hearing my voice on the verge of breaking. With my epilepsy, my mom had spent a lot of time worrying about me. I hated bothering her with one more thing.
“Nothing,” I lied. “I heard from Jake—the guy from Ohio State, you know?”
“What?” she screeched. “Is he writing you letters again? You make sure you keep them in case something happens. I think it’s time we find a lawyer for you.”
“I can’t afford that,” I said. I didn’t want to correct her about how Jake was contacting me. If she was this freaked out about the prospect of him merely writing letters, then hearing that he was tracking my every move would send her into an absolute frenzy.
“Do you want to stay with me for a little while?” she asked. “I know I don’t live close to the campus, but you’re always welcome to bring an air mattress over.”
“And where would I put it? The kitchen? No, I can’t do that to you.”
“I’d feel better knowing that you were safe. Why don’t you ask a classmate if you can stay over for a few days? Maybe you’ll even get more studying done that way.”
“Okay,” I replied softly, not wanting to tell her that there was no one to take in a stranger for a week-long study party. “I’ll do that.”
“Good. If you need to come to stay with me, you’re always welcome.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, feeling the tears coming back. I wanted to hang up the phone before she heard my voice break. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I hung up the phone, feeling no better than I did before. My little list of lies that I told my mother to keep her worry-free was growing. There was nothing I could do, though—I was afraid the truth would ruin her sanity.
My mom, as kind as she was, wasn’t well equipped to handle my problems. She didn’t have the money or connections that I could use in a situation like this. It was better to keep her in the dark. Otherwise, she would feel bad about not being able to protect her daughter.
I couldn’t tell her about the time I told the police that Jake tried to kidnap me. I tried to file a report with campus security, but they told me that they couldn’t prove that it happened. Apparently, there were no working cameras outside of the library on the night he tried to yank me toward his car. It was the day before spring break, so he wasn’t available to interrogate and the campus police lost my report the following week when he returned.
The second time he tried to lure me away, I was packing up my apartment a few nights before graduation. He called me and sounded drunk. He begged me to get back together with him. Of course, I told him that we were never together and that he needed to leave me alone.
That’s when he threatened to kill himself if I didn’t come over and just talk with him. For a second, I thought about going to his place, just because I would feel terrible if I were responsible for his death. Luckily, I talked myself out of it. He had never shown suicidal tendencies before. Even if he was serious, I couldn’t put myself in danger just in case he wasn’t bluffing.
Instead, I called the police and told them what Jake told me. Apparently, they showed up at his place and he denied everything. He said that I was his crazy ex-girlfriend and I was trying to get him in trouble. He assured them that everything was fine and even mentioned getting a restraining order against me so I couldn’t do that sort of thing again.
To make matters worse, I was nearly charged with false reporting. But, I pitched such a fit that the police decided to drop the whole thing. Unfortunately, that meant that he got away scot-free.
If the city police and the campus police had merged their records or worked together, they would have realized that Jake Morin was up to no good. However, this never happened, and I got the reputation for being a vindictive ex. I couldn’t get out of that place soon enough.
When I told my mom I wanted to go to grad school at Berkeley, she was happy because it was closer to where she lived. I didn’t mention it was because I needed to get away from Jake Morin.
Later that afternoon, Dr. Malone came back to talk to me. I felt like I hadn’t seen him all day. In fact, I was so happy that he returned to check up on me that I almost forgot that I had nowhere to go when his office closed.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Fine,” I replied. “I talked to my mom. It’s not going to work out for me to stay with her. She lives in a studio apartment and there’s just not any room for me. I think I’m just going to go back to my apartment.”
He grimaced. “Oh. I just came in here to tell you that I spoke to a security guard. Apparently, that Jake guy tried to come in and asked if you were here. He said that he was your boyfriend and he needed to pick you up after your appointment.”
“Seriously?” I asked, dropping my head in my hands.
“The guard took care of it,” he said in his calm voice. “He told him that you were not here and that he would call the police if he continued to trespass on private property.”
“When did this happen?”
“Just now,” Dr. Malone frowned. “Is his car still at the back of the lot?”
We both went over to the window to look. At that moment, Jake was pulling out of the parking lot.
“Good riddance,” he said, taking a step back from the window.
I stayed in my lookout spot. I knew better than to take my eyes off him until he was gone.
Sure enough, he only drove from the very edge of the parking lot to the other side of the street. Technically, he was no longer on private property. Jake knew exactly what he was doing.
“He’s not gone,” I said, pointing at his parked car. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it had a smug smirk on it.
“That bastard!” Dr. Malone exclaimed. “That’s it. If he’s going to do this sort of thing, you’re not leaving my practice alone.”
His face was red and he had lost his composure. I had never seen him anything other than cool and collected. Dr. Malone had the confidence of a man who knew that he was the best at what he did. Now, the man across the street was about to challenge him.
“Hold tight,” he said, his hands visibly shaking. “I just need to see one more patient and then we’re leaving.”
“Where will we go?” I asked. “He’s just going to see me in your car and he’ll follow you back to my pla
ce.”
“Then let’s not go to your place,” he said, picking up his charts. “You’re going to stay with me tonight. Is that alright with you?”
I was too flustered to speak. This was the thing I wanted all along, but now that it was really happening, I was nervous.
He didn’t wait for an answer before he left to finish out his work day.
I couldn’t believe it. I was about to spend the night with the hot doctor that I had a major crush on. I knew that I would probably be staying in a spare bedroom, far away from his, but it still felt like a sleepover. What would we do from early evening until bedtime? As much as I enjoyed being with him, our relationship only ever existed within the confines of his medical clinic. He knew everything about my body, and minor details about my personal life, but that was all. I knew relatively nothing about him besides the fact that he had a private practice at the age of thirty.