Chapter Ten

"Mallory, would you please open the door?" Stan called.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. The tears didn't seem to stop flowing. I reached up and gently touched the welt that was forming on the side of my cheek. The welt that Stan had put there.

"Mallory?" Stan called again. His voice was so soft and gentle, nothing like the rage I'd witnessed just a few moments earlier. "Mallory honey, please. I'm so sorry for hitting you. I shouldn't have done that, and I understand you're upset. Please just open the door so we can talk about this."

I sat on the floor to the spare bedroom, playing with the carpet. I tugged and tugged at one of the stringy pieces until it finally came off. I didn't say anything. Stan had never behaved this way before. I couldn't help but think that he had every right to be upset, since I did leave without telling him. But another part of me thought that even with that, I didn't deserve to get slapped.

"Go away Stan," I said quietly, not even recognizing the voice that came out of me. It sounded so pitiful and hollow.

I heard Stan sigh on the other end of the door. "Fine," he replied. "Stay in there as long as you need to. But I still want to talk later. I want to be able to tell you how sorry I am. And I will make this up to you, I promise." I heard his footsteps walk down the hall to his bedroom and shut the door.

I let out a breath of air I didn't even know I was holding. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't very well stay in here all night. The floor wasn't exactly comfortable, not to mention that I couldn't sleep with my contacts in. I stretched out and tucked my hands behind my head, as sort of a makeshift pillow. I stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.

I was hurt. Not just physically, of course, but spiritually as well. My heart was confused because I knew I loved Stan, but I was angry that he had actually hit me. And for what? For going against him when he tried to forbid me from seeing my friends? Who the hell did he think he was? I certainly had no intentions of not speaking to Betsy and Meghan anytime soon. After all, they had been there for me before I even met Stan. Not much longer before, but still. I knew we would be friends even after college. For the first time, I had doubts about my future with Stan. How could I trust that he wouldn't hit me again? I felt as if maybe I should try to talk to him and hear him out.

I rolled over on my side and glanced over at the far wall. There was a box pushed up against it that read "Important Documents". What kind of documents? Before I knew it, my curiosity was getting the better of me and I wandered over to the box and untucked the flaps. I saw a manila folder that appeared to have some credit card bills in it. There were other folders that had electricity bills, gas bills, and telephone bills. There were some old tax returns beneath that, and way at the bottom of the box was a plain white envelope. I lifted it out of the box and stared at it. It was worn and creased. I flipped the envelope over and pulled out what was inside. I drew in a breath. It was a copy of Stan's birth certificate! Maybe I could see how old he really was now.

I glanced at the birth date and felt my heart drop. By my calculations, Stan was due to be twenty-eight on April fourth, which meant he was ten years older than me, and six years older than I thought he was. I felt sick to my stomach, and suddenly, very angry. How dare he give me a hard time about something as simple as not doing the dishes when he was hiding his true age this whole time?

I barreled out of the room and pounded on his door. "Stan, open up!" I shouted. I could feel my face turning bright red. I was furious.

Stan opened the door, surprised. "Mallory, what is it? Look, I know you're upset—"

"That's not what I'm upset about now," I spat. I thrust the birth certificate at him. "Perhaps you'd care to explain this?"

I watched as the color drained from Stan's face. "Where did you find that?" he asked.

I hesitated. Okay, the fact of the matter was I had snooped through Stan's personal belongings to get that document. How could I be mad about something I had discovered through dishonesty? "I found it," I muttered. "That's not the point. The point is that you lied to me. You lied to me while making me feel bad about what happened earlier. And I haven't even gotten to this!" I yelled, pointing at the massive bump on my face.

"Mallory, I can explain. Yes, I'm twenty-seven, and I know I lied to you. It's just when I bumped into you that day and you asked me what year I was I didn't want to tell you I had already graduated. You seemed nervous enough, and I didn't want to add to that. Also, I figured I would scare you off immediately, and you wouldn't take the time to get to know the real me." He stared at me with his liquid brown eyes, and for a second, I almost forgave him right then and there. But as I felt my cheek begin to throb I got mad all over again.

"So who's the real you, huh? A liar and an abuser?" I asked him, my eyes narrowing.

Stan reached out to touch my cheek and I jerked away. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," he said. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I don't know what came over me…I just was so mad that you had left without telling me. I thought maybe you would try to leave me one day, and I guess I just lost it." He looked down and sighed. "I know how upset you must be with me, but I still love you so much. Please don't leave me." He reached forward to hug me, and I let him, but I didn't hug him back.

"You lied to me," I repeated. "Not to mention that you hit me, and made me feel like the lowest being on earth when you were the one being dishonest the whole time. I don't know if I can trust you, Stan. Ever."

"I understand," Stan said quietly. "I'll understand if you never want to speak to me again." With that he went back inside his room and shut the door.

I stood there, staring at the door as my breath came in quick gasps. I looked down at the hand holding the birth certificate and saw that it was shaking. My worst fears had been confirmed. Stan was definitely not a senior, and probably not even a graduate student. So what the hell was he doing still wandering the campus? What did he do for work? I realized how truly little I knew about Stan and his life. How could I have thought I was in love with him, even considering marriage? I felt so stupid, so naïve. A million questions were running through my head, and I didn't have the answer for any of them.

I turned and walked back down the hall to the spare room, where I carefully placed the birth certificate back in its envelope and laid it on top of the other folders. I shut the box once again and sat down on the floor. I needed to think.

Knock, knock.

I bolted upright and rubbed my eyes. I blinked in the darkness, momentarily forgetting where I was. As the terrible memories came flooding back, I stretched my arms over my head. "Yeah?" I called out hoarsely.

"Mallory, it's Stan. Can I come in?"

I sighed. I wasn't sure if I was alert enough to talk to him right now. "Sure," I said unenthusiastically. I had wanted to hear him out, after all.

The door opened and Stan poked his head in. "Were you sleeping?" he asked.

"Uh huh."

Stan flicked on the light and I had to close my eyes at the sudden brightness. It felt harsh and unwelcome. "Can you turn off the light?" I asked, feeling a headache coming on.

The room once again became dark and Stan sat down in front of me and took both of my hands in his, despite my resistance. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

"Tired. Hurt. Confused. Angry. Take your pick," I said sarcastically.

"I can understand all of them," he said wearily. "And I wish I could take back what happened, but I can't. So all I can do is just tell you over and over again how sorry I am, and how I know what an asshole I was." He reached out and tried to tilt my chin up to face him, but I forced myself to keep looking down. "Mallory?" he whispered.

Finally, I looked at him. The moonlight from outside illuminated his face, giving it an almost eerie quality, like when people light flashlights under their faces to make them look more ominous. Suddenly he looked like a stranger to me.

"Mallory, I love you. I'm so sorry. I will never, ever hurt you like that again. I am so ashamed of my behavior, and I wish more than anything that it never happened. You're too sweet a girl to deserve that, and I'll understand if you don't want to be with me anymore. You're better than me." Even in the darkness I could see the sadness in his eyes; it almost looked as if he were crying.

I had so many things I wanted to say to him, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. I was temporarily vocally paralyzed. He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him that all was forgiven, and that I still wanted to be with him.

I took a deep breath. "Stan, I'm sure you're sorry. And I know you wish all this had never happened. However, it doesn't change the fact that it did. I am going to look at myself in the mirror tomorrow and have this constant reminder of what you did to me. Not only that, but you also lied to me. I have never lied to you about anything since we've started dating. How do I know that's the only thing you're lying about?"

"Nothing I say will probably make you believe me, but I swear it's the only thing. I didn't know how you'd deal with the fact that there was such a significant age difference between us. Now that you know, I would hope that it hasn't changed the way you feel about me. I still love you, and I always will. Remember, you're my girl forever." Stan looked at me earnestly as he spoke, and I could feel my heart starting to give away.

I shook my head and stood up. "I don't know if I feel any differently, that's the thing. I need time to think about all this. I don't think I should be here right now."

Stan stood up so forcefully I felt a small breeze hit my face. "Where are you going?" he demanded, suddenly sounding panicked.

"Away," I said firmly, staring him square in the eye.

Stan merely nodded. "I'll find you, wherever you go." And with that, he turned and walked out of the room again. I heard his bedroom door shut and lock behind him.

I quickly grabbed my overnight bag from the closet and absentmindedly threw a change of clothes in it, along with some clean underwear and my pajamas. I went into the bathroom and tossed in my toothbrush and contact solution, and grabbed an apple from the refrigerator. I took one last look around the apartment before opening the closet door and putting my coat on. I looked sadly at the gifts I had bought, the sweater I had so lovingly purchased for Stan just a few hours before. At the last minute, I grabbed my shopping bags and stuffed them in my duffel.

I opened the door quietly, then walked down the empty hall. The hall light flickered and buzzed incessantly with every step I took. I made my way into the elevator and felt a single tear roll down my swollen cheek. I didn't bother to brush it away.

The cold wind stung my face when I went outside and for a moment I hesitated. What was I going to do now? I couldn't very well go back to the dorms. Besides, Meghan and Betsy would freak out if they saw me now, and I didn't want to involve anyone just yet. I spun around on the darkened street, unsure of what to do next. It was then that I realized: I had nowhere to go.