Chapter 7:

He entered his dwelling without switching on the lights and gently closed the door behind him. He took a moment, leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and breathed deeply - standing in the semi darkness of the familiar rooms.

His lawyer had taken him back to the station and he drove home on his own from there. Now he tried to focus and although he seemed pretty restrained and calm on the outside, his mind was racing and shouting at him: Think! Think! But it didn't work. All the emotions he tried to get a hold on overtook his mind and didn't allow him to remember.

The only thing that came back on his mind over and over again was the reproachful look in Faiths'eyes, when she realized that he knew the girl. And her way of talking to him, of believing he'd lied – but maybe he had – he wasn't so sure of it himself.

"Stop it!" he ordered to himself silently.

"You need to remember!"

He knew it was the only way to find out. If he wouldn't clearly remember and could give evidence about that night, the girl's testimony was all police had, all that was a proof of that nights' events – the truth – it was the truth as long as he couldn't refute it.

"Focus!"

He closed his eyes once again. Getting back to the situation, to the bar and the bedroom wasn't that much of a problem. But what did she say? How did she react? Did she struggle against him? Did she tell him to stop? Did she panic or did she cry? Did she do it because she didn't want this to happen or because she liked what was happening between them? What did she do? What did he...? There was nothing or not enough on his mind to answer his question.

"Goddamn it!"

He said out loud.

"You need to calm down. Relax!"

Forcing it, wouldn't help and pushing too hard would block his memory just some more. He'd been pretty drunk that night anyway. So memory – real memory – not just some lovely flashbacks and the emotions belonging to them, would be kind of a problem.

He walked through the apartment slowly and breathed deeply, trying to block the thoughts about work, the co-workers, his reputation, his career – Faith and tried to focus on the events of last night.

It wasn't easy, really- it wasn't. He caught himself in drifting away over and over again. Wishing for a break, for relief. His mind definitely called for it and his physics weren't any better.

He needed some rest, needed some sleep and after about two hours of trying it, of denying he needed relaxation and of stumbling to the rooms slowly, he gave in.

He made his way to the bedroom, falling asleep almost immediately – still in his clothes – into an unpleasant, dreamless sleep.

TBC...