Chapter 43

Harvey flipped the light switch on, stumbling forward in his apartment. He gave his head a shake and blinked several times. As the hallway illuminated, he squinted his eyes. It almost didn’t seem like his apartment. It had to be, he thought as he shoved his door closed and attached the locks, it was the fourth door he tried opening on this floor, the only one that did in fact allow him entrance.
He threaded forward carefully, a picture of his parents placed on the mantle sending a wave of relief through his veins. This was his apartment! He resisted the urge to celebrate with another shot of whiskey. Although, some might argue that he’s had just about more than he could handle. His eyes were drooping, his limbs were tingling and his bed was seducing him. He kicked off his shoes, partially stumbling. He followed this by shedding his jacket and pulling off his belt. He threw these pieces down as he made his way through his apartment, towards the bathroom, formulating a trail behind him. His shirt and pants went next and he hopped into the shower in his boxers.

“Fuck me.” He growled as the cold water soaked through his boxers and stuck to his skin. He rolled it down his waist and legs, kicking it out of the shower and on the floor, a signature plop echoing from the soaked garment. Harvey stood beneath the shower, the cold water barely affecting him. He usually hated showering in anything less that boiling hot water but in this state of drunken abyss he felt no difference when it came to temperature.
Harvey breathed as he leaned against the bathroom wall, his hand propping his body’s slant position as water cascaded upon his head and trickling down the sides of his face and body. He could feel his body sobering up, his body cringing as the coldness from the water began penetrating his pores.

He exhaled through his mouth, sending the moisture away from his lips. He grabbed the soap and cleansed his body. Time lapsed in his head, when he was finished he dragged himself out of the shower and into his room, his wet body dripping water on his floor in a trail. He’d forgotten to carry a towel with him, not that he had any intentions to use it. Harvey plopped down on his bed, his bare body becoming less soaked as time raced by. He tossed his pillows on the floor, propping his head up by easing his arms under his head. He stared up at the ceiling. His mind was clearing, the alcohol he drank to erase the process of thought and consideration a failed investment. It was wasted money and time.

Harvey’s resistance was shortening. Those recordings Ethan gave him had been his brain’s constant companion from the time they popped up on his cell phone. Companion? More, like burden. He wanted to believe that he was emotionally indifferent on command, and for the most part he was. So, what was different in these circumstances? He’d decided last night to wash his hands of Mia. She was married. She had a child.

Worst of all, her husband was Gabriel Evans.

Harvey and Gabriel had been deemed arch enemies before they came to know of each other’s existence but that didn’t give him the right to involve himself in the man’s marriage, with his wife. It didn’t matter that Gabriel himself didn’t honour the vows he took with his wife, Harvey had huge respect for the sanctity of marriage, even if both Mia and Gabriel didn’t. If a scandal was to break out, his family would be deeply hurt…he would too.
He was beginning to imagine a life with Mia. It was difficult for him to admit this, even to himself. Harvey hadn’t understood it when Ethan had told him within weeks of meeting Peyton that he was going to marry her. Now he did.

There was an instant, inexplicable wakefulness. The past mistakes, failed relationships made sense. The reason he couldn’t attach himself to any one past physical was because of her. That one soul his heart was holding out for.
And yet…the one woman he felt this way about was not his. She could not become his. Didn’t that result in the effect of the recordings becoming obsolete in his life?

What closure could be possibly hope to get?

“Closure is overrated.” He said aloud. It was a line his biological mother had always told him, after her treatments had brought her back to some semblance of sanity. She said she’d spent her life wondering about the events of her life, the men that hurt her and their motives. But their motive hadn’t mattered. She’d driven herself crazy thinking of all the reasons she’d attracted despair and darkness into her life and every time she asked herself ‘why’.

Why? One syllable. One of the commonest words in the world. A word used thousands of times in a day for the simplest reasons and yet it had the power to dismantle a person’s rational mind and drive them into anxiety.
Asking someone for reasons almost never granted closure, because human beings, as flawed as they were, barely understood their rational in the first place. Acts perpetrating from emotions were void of rhyme or reason.

So, the question remained, did it make sense to listen to the recordings if there was that huge chance that his mind would not be able to achieve true closure? What was worth more? His curiosity or his pride?
Harvey stared at the ceiling, his eyes burning, leaking liquid as a result of not blinking. He blinked several times to ease the tiny pin pricks, wiping the false tears away from the sides of his eyes, rolling of his bed in the process. He pulled on a boxers, his body completely air dried, his hair still damp, his mattress soaking up most of the moisture.

His footsteps echoed as he re-traced his movements throughout his apartment. He bent forward to where he’d dropped his trousers; he rummaged through his pockets, digging out his wallet first. He let it fall to the floor, his hands searching another pocket, pulling out his car keys and his cell phone. The keys to his car landed in close proximity to his discarded wallet. He unlocked his cell phone as he made his way to his study. He connected his Bluetooth earphones and eased back into his leather chair.

He eyed the six files in Ethan’s chat.

“If I run, I’ll always wonder.” He needed to say the words aloud. “Listen, discard and move forward.” That was the plan. His curiosity demanded satisfaction.
He clicked on the first one, an unfamiliar male voice titling the recording with the date, time and name of persons being interviewed. The recording itself wasn’t lengthy.

The unidentified male asked one central question, ‘What can you tell me about the relationship between the Evan’s?’
The interviewee responded, ‘Only speak to the wife really, polite lady.’ An elderly male, maybe? His voice was shaking. ‘I barely see ‘em together, when she comes in, that’s when he usually leaves and vise versa.’ He paused, ‘I guess that’s how the rich lives. Really couldn’t tell you about their relationship, my legs aren’t what they used to be.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I only venture outside when me daughter’s home.’

The unidentified male interviewer thanked the man for his time and the recording ended. Anti-climactic to say the least. Without thinking too much, Harvey allowed the next recording to play. A similar instance occurred. A neighbour who declared to be absent from home and couldn’t give any opinions on the relationship apart from his distaste of Gabriel Evans. Who really liked the man anyway?

Harvey clenched his teeth. This was more futile than he thought. Just one more, his mind echoed. If the same tuned played, the remainder wouldn’t matter.
He played the third recording, this one slightly longer. The interviewer asked the question and a female responded with an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s a mess.’ She declared emotively.

‘Can you explain that to me?’ the interview’s voice maintained an uninterested tone.

‘We don’t have contact with the husband.’ She said, ‘Mia, we know. It seems that her husband has been mistreating her.’ The interviewer prompted her again and she was happy to continue, ‘About a month or so ago, there was a scuffle in their front lawn with Mia and another woman regarding the husband. That night, Mia had her brother pick her and her daughter up and left. We think that the husband had been cheating.’

‘She left? Doesn’t she still live there?’ he asked.

‘She came back and that same woman…”

‘the one she had a scuffle with?’ the interviewer asked for clarification.

‘Yes, the very one. She was in the house, dressed very scantily. I saw her opening the front door for Mia with my own eyes. My husband and I were outside with our boys.’ She said, clearing her throat a bit.

‘What happened?’ the interviewer inquired.

‘They spoke for a bit and then the husband came out, the woman went into the house and so did Mia.’ The interviewee replied casually. Harvey wondered if Mia was accepting of her husband’s infidelity. Is that why she hadn’t left him?
The recording ended and Harvey played another one. They got worst. He heard one man saying he’d heard screaming a few days ago, Mia screaming for her husband to

‘let her go’. His mouth went dry.

‘There is no relationship between then.’ Another woman said, ‘No one can convince me otherwise.’

‘Why do you think she is still living in the same house as him then?’ the interviewer pressed but the person remained silent.

There was that word again. Why? Was Mia in love with Gabriel? Did she attempt to use Harvey to get revenge on her husband? Was it easier to stay with him for the sake of their daughter? Why did she entertain, Harvey? Why was she still trying to contact Harvey? What did she have to say and why?

Why? It pierced a hole into Harvey’s brain and made itself a tiny den. He needed to know why.