The Secret

by Stella Gray

  “You don’t need to hover. I’m fine,” I insisted, leaning heavily against the counter to steady myself.

  “But you’re not,” he said, again laying on that obviously phony gentle tone. “You can barely stand.”

  It felt as if he could see right through me. Did he want me to admit I’d gone out with my friends last night when I shouldn’t have, and that I was now suffering through the worst hangover of my life? Was I supposed to apologize, beg him for forgiveness, or simply break down in front of him for my own edification—or his amusement? And since when had he begun noticing that I existed again? The timing was suspect and I didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust that he wasn’t trying to use my vulnerability to his advantage somehow.

  “I have cramps,” I finally blurted. “That’s why I’m skipping yoga. I need a day of bed rest.”

  He looked at me as if he knew I was lying.

  I didn’t wait for him to say anything more. Instead, I headed back to my room with my coffee and climbed in bed, where I planned to spend the rest of the day. Recovering and wallowing. And hiding from my husband, who was clearly up to something behind my back, though I had no idea what it was.

  The only thing I did know for sure was that I couldn’t trust him.

  Tori

  Chapter 10

  “She’s ali-iive!” Audrey squealed in her unmistakable New York accent, slamming into me outside my Intro to Psycholinguistics class in her trademark layers of black clothing and eyeliner.

  I’d just walked out into the hall after staying late to speak with my favorite instructor, Professor Dhawan. She’d congratulated me on the strong first semester I was having and urged me to enroll in her Verbal Arts class in the spring.

  “I…guess I am,” I said, forcing a casual laugh as I disentangled myself from Audrey’s aggressive hug. My hope had been that nobody would mention Friday night, but it looked like I wasn’t going to get out of answering for whatever had happened.

  “Where did you disappear off to?” Lila asked, appearing behind Audrey as we headed for the coffee kiosk in the lobby of Stuart Hall, where we always met up after our morning classes.

  “I disappeared?” I said, feigning ignorance. Maybe if I played dumb, they’d tell me their side of the story—and I could figure out exactly what they’d seen, what I’d done publicly, before Gavin had somehow transported me from the 312 Club to Stefan’s condo. It was now obvious that my girlfriends hadn’t been the ones to see me home safely.

  “Without a word,” Audrey told me, shaking her head. “We were so worried. We called and texted but no answer.”

  I’d spent the majority of the weekend in my room, leaving only for quick trips to the kitchen to get coffee and food (after my stomach settled and could process something more than caffeine). Besides my strange interaction with Stefan on Saturday morning, he’d made himself scarce in the days following. Probably at the office or out with one of his model mistresses.

  I was grateful for it. His sudden attention and intense scrutiny had made me uneasy.

  “Did you lose your phone at 312?” Lila asked, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I’d just die if I lost mine. Especially at some club, where anyone could pick it up and see all my personal photos.”

  “I know exactly what kind of photos you’re talking about, you dirty girl,” Audrey teased as we got in the coffee line. Then she turned back to me, serious again. “Did someone steal it? There’s an app that’ll locate it for you. In the meantime, you should lock your account so nobody else can use it.”

  She was talking a mile a minute, as usual, but I managed to respond, “Yeah, um. It was lost, but I found it. The, uh, battery must’ve died at the club, and I thought I’d left it there. But when I called they didn’t have it. Turns out it was at the bottom of my purse the whole time!”

  It was a bad lie, a needlessly complicated one, but they seemed to accept it at face value.

  “Oh my god, that same thing happened to me a few weeks ago,” Lila said. “My phone died and I couldn’t call myself and then I finally found it under my bed. Well. My friend’s bed.”

  She and Audrey giggled.

  The truth was, halfway through Saturday I had finally found the courage to turn my phone back on. After scrolling past the tons of texts I’d gotten from Lila, Audrey, Diane, and Gavin (which I was too embarrassed to read, afraid of what I’d find out about my drunken behavior), I opened Stefan’s, bracing myself for an angry barrage of messages that he would have sent the night before when I hadn’t shown up for dinner.

  But there was only one from him, right around 7:30.

  Where are you? he had asked. And that was it.

  I’d been shocked to see that he hadn’t followed up. That, combined with his oddly solicitous behavior on Saturday, still had me on edge. Stefan was acting differently. Strangely. And I didn’t know why. I had no idea what his intentions were, when the other shoe would drop.

  Compared to Stefan’s radio silence, it had been nice to see the torrent of texts from my other friends. At least they seemed to care. And yet…besides the multiple “Where are you?” and “are u ok?” texts that I’d gotten on Friday night—and never responded to—no one had bothered to check in on me. For the rest of the weekend, I didn’t get any more texts. Apparently once I was out of sight, I was out of mind. Some friends.

  And here I had thought that school and my colleagues would be a substitute for the attention and love I had been missing in my private life.

  It was my turn to order, so I asked for a tall mocha and then stood off to the side with my girlfriends as the barista whipped up our drinks.

  Just then, Diane rushed up in a cloud of patchouli oil. “Tori! You’re safe! Where did you go on Friday? I’ve been on a personal media ban all weekend so I could meditate in harmony on midterms, but then I realized this morning that I never heard back from you.”

  “She lost her phone,” Lila said breezily, slurping her frappuccino. “But actually, Tori, you never answered us. How did you get home? You seemed pretty wasted.”

  Now three pairs of eyes were focused on me as I tried to wrack my brain for the memory—any memory—of that night. But I was still drawing a blank. Except for the blurry hallucination of Stefan. There was no doubt in my mind: someone had drugged my drink.

  “That’s right,” Diane said, peering at me curiously. “We did those shots with Gavin and then I went to go dance and then you were just gone. I figured maybe you’d left with someone.”

  Lila’s mouth dropped open. “Tori,” she hissed. “Did you go home with a sexy stranger?! Is that why you’re being so coy? Tell me his name!”

  “No,” I protested. “I didn’t—”

  “Scandal!” Audrey crowed, taking a joyful swig of her espresso. “I bet he’s friggin’ hot.”

  “Guys. We’re not here to judge anybody,” Diane scolded, plucking Lila’s frap out of her hand to steal a few sips. Then she smiled sweetly at me. “But you can tell us anything.”

  I was offended and horrified. Not only did my friends—who knew I was married—think I was the kind of person who’d just walk out of a club with a complete stranger (and try to keep it a secret later), but they didn’t seem at all worried about how dangerous that could have been.

  “I really didn’t,” I said, my voice tight. “I didn’t leave with anyone.”

  “Huh,” Lila said, tapping a neon fingernail on her cup as if she didn’t quite believe me.

  “To be honest, I don’t remember anything that happened after those shots I took,” I admitted, blushing hotly. “I have no idea how I got home. But I did make it home that night.”

  Diane’s eyes widened. “Have you talked to Gavin? He was stuck to you like glue the whole time. He said he was babysitting since he’s the one who got you that new fake ID—but he didn’t seem worried at all when I asked about you later. In fact, he insisted you were fine.”

  Gavin.

  I remembered being with Gavin on Friday night. Joking with
him, flirting a little. The warmth between us. I even remembered briefly considering what it would be like to date him. Wondering if maybe, once my marriage was officially over, we could try it. If he’d wait for me.

  Now I didn’t know how to feel.

  He showed up late to Latin class that afternoon, so I had to wait over an hour before I could finally talk to him. By the time the bell rang, I was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Surely he had an idea of what had happened to me that night. He’d been my self-appointed official babysitter. And he was the one who’d gotten me home, hadn’t he?

  “Gavin,” I said, rushing over to grab his arm before he could leave class.

  That was unusual. Usually he came to my desk and waited for me to pack up my things after Latin was over, so we could walk to the library together to study.

  But then he turned and smiled at me, his usual, friendly, handsome smile, and I felt some of my worry ease. Gavin was a good guy. I liked him. I trusted him. He would tell me the truth.

  “Tori. How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice kind and gentle.

  “I’m okay,” I told him carefully, pulling him off to the side a little. “But to be honest, most of Friday evening is a bit of a blank. Do you think you could…fill me in?”

  Every time I had to admit my alcohol-fueled amnesia out loud, I felt a surge of embarrassment. I wasn’t that kind of girl. The kind who got so drunk that she couldn’t remember what happened later, who blacked out in the middle of a club. I was sure something had been slipped into my drink, but even so, I’d never been the kind of girl to put myself in situations where that could happen. I’d messed up. And I didn’t want Gavin to think less of me.

  Gavin frowned. “You don’t remember what happened?”

  I shook my head, my cheeks going hot.

  He glanced around the emptying room, a stormy look crossing his face. “Your douchebag of a husband showed up,” he said, dropping his voice low.

  My brain was like a record skittering to a halt.

  “Stefan? He was there?” I was in shock. How had he found me? He shouldn’t have been able to track me with my phone turned off.

  “Yeah,” Gavin said, disgusted. “Let’s talk outside, in the quad.”

  The pieces were falling into place now—not just my recollection of Stefan being at the club, but how he’d acted Saturday morning, how he’d seemed to know there was something wrong with me. Yet he hadn’t said a word about it. Instead he’d sat there, smug and mostly silent, making backhanded comments about me being pale and trying to force food on me.

  I felt the same nausea I’d felt that morning as I sank onto a bench, pulling my coat tighter around me.

  And if Gavin was calling Stefan a douchebag, something must have happened between them. Oh no. “Wait, what did he do? Did he say something to you?”

  Gavin shook his head. “You really don’t remember.” He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, so everything was cool, you were dancing, having a few drinks, and then your husband,” he practically spat the word, “shows up out of nowhere. Just barges in, acting like you’re his property. We had a few words. He was all possessive, very aggro, and then he dragged you out of there. Like you didn’t deserve to be out having a good time with your friends.”

  “And that’s…that was all?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Your husband has some anger management issues. And he obviously thinks he owns you. I know it’s none of my business, but having gone through this same kind of thing with my mom, I gotta say…it’s the kind of behavior that doesn’t get better. I worry about you.”

  “Stefan’s…complicated,” I said. “He’s not normally like that.” But he was, wasn’t he?

  Something still wasn’t right. I’d been drugged, I was sure of it, yet Gavin hadn’t mentioned it at all.

  He shrugged again. “If you say so,” he said. “You know him better than I do.”

  I nodded numbly. I was only half listening, still struggling to make sense of it all. According to my own memory, I hadn’t been having a good time in the least when Stefan had arrived. I distinctly remembered the nausea, the way the ground had rolled under my feet, the way I’d sunk to the floor as the room went black. How had Gavin not noticed?

  “Did I seem…” I paused, not sure how to ask if I had acted like I’d been roofied. “Did I seem a little out of it?”

  Gavin paused thoughtfully. “I guess you did seem a little off. I just thought you’d had too much to drink.” He laughed. “I mean, but who hasn’t had a night or two out where they couldn’t remember what happened?”

  Me. I’d never had a night like that and I never wanted to have one again.

  “I don’t think I was just drunk,” I said slowly. “I think I might have been drugged.”

  His entire face changed, instantly stricken. “Jesus,” he said. “Who the hell would…” he stopped, his words cutting off as if he was remembering something.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, it’s just…” He paused. “No, that’s crazy.”

  “What?” I demanded. “Tell me.”

  He took a deep breath. “It’s just—if you think you were drugged…” he shook his head again. “I don’t know. Do you remember seeing a big guy that night? Really tall?”

  My stomach dropped. “Yes. I do. He was over six feet, black turtleneck, shaved head. I thought he was one of the bouncers.”

  Gavin looked me straight in the eye. “He didn’t work there. He was the one who led Stefan to you. They left the club together, carrying you. I can’t help wondering if…if Stefan and this guy had something to do with whatever you drank. I mean, dude was checking you out all night. Hovering not ten feet away from you at all times. I figured he just liked the way you looked, but…it’s a pretty big coincidence.”

  My blood went cold.

  “You think Stefan had me drugged?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  “I don’t know what to think, Tori,” Gavin said. “But if you’d seen the way he was acting, how possessive and angry he was about the fact that we were just talking…I just wouldn’t be surprised if he’d sent the big guy out that night to keep an eye on you. Maybe more than that.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Stefan was a lot of things, had done a lot of despicable things, but I had a hard time imagining he’d send some thug to a club just to spy on me and drug me.

  But Gavin’s expression was so serious and so concerned that I felt my confidence waver. I had turned my phone off that night. What if Stefan really did have me followed once he’d realized that he couldn’t track me? What if this wasn’t even the first time he’d sent someone after me? Had I been drugged as punishment for flirting with Gavin?

  “All I’m saying is, he didn’t seem like the nicest guy,” Gavin said. “And he’s definitely got a jealous streak, and is extremely possessive of you. There’s no way you can deny that.”

  “You’re right,” I admitted. Stefan was possessive. And he hadn’t said anything about coming to the club that night or about how I had gotten home. Instead he had just watched me suffering from the aftermath of being drugged, and done nothing but taunt me.

  I felt truly sick now.

  And confused.

  Gavin seemed so sure that Stefan had been the one to drug me, but I still couldn’t help feeling like he was leaving something out.

  “I’m sorry, Tori,” Gavin said. “I don’t know what else to say. Look, I’m not gonna harp on it, because it’s your life and your decision to make. But if you ever have to get out, run away, I’ll be here. I’ve seen it all before, I know how it is. So my couch is yours. In fact, I’ll take the couch myself. Just…you always have somewhere safe to go, with me. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. There was too much too process. Too much to wrap my head around.

  “It’s too cold out here,” Gavin said, adjusting his scarf. “Do you want to grab lunch?”

  I shook my head. “I have office hours with Dhawan. I’ll catch up with you later
.”

  But what I needed was some time to sort through this new information. Although Gavin had given me answers, I still felt just as much in the dark as I had on Saturday morning.

  I had far more questions than answers now. How had Stefan found me in the first place? Had he sent that guy to spy on me? Was my husband ultimately responsible for my drugged state? Was it all part of his plan to get me home, or some kind of punishment for being out with Gavin, who he already had his suspicions about?

  Maybe he’d actually rescued me from getting drugged by someone else at the club. But if that was the case, then why hadn’t he said anything Saturday morning? Or any time since then?

  Nothing made sense.

  And it still felt like Gavin was keeping something from me, being cagey about what really happened. Like he wasn’t telling me the whole truth.

  There was no one I could trust.

  Tori

  Chapter 11

  As I pushed my way past the students congregating in little groups outside the door of American Sign Language, my last class of the day, I heard Diane calling after me.

  “Dinner and study group? I booked us one of the big rooms in Regenstein. Room 206.”

  I’d barely made it through ASL with my mind fully focused on what Gavin had told me earlier—that Stefan had been responsible for drugging me. I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t know who to believe.

  “I need to pass,” I told her apologetically. “I’ve been dragging ass all day and there’s no way I’ll be able to focus. I could really use an early night in bed.”

  “Okay,” Diane said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “You know, meditation really helps me get centered the week before midterms when everything’s all crazy. Maybe try the Zen-Me app? It’s pretty great. Ooh, and maybe some echinacea!”

  “Thanks,” I said, meaning it. “I’ll keep it in mind. See you tomorrow.”

  I still didn’t feel a hundred percent recovered from Friday night, and my head was reeling with all the new information I’d gathered about Stefan’s appearance in the club. It terrified me to know that, while under the influence, I could have easily been taken somewhere against my will, been violated or hurt badly, with absolutely no way to defend myself or even protest. I’d been totally helpless. And it was even more terrifying to think that my husband might be the one responsible for my incoherent and incapacitated state.