This Is Why I Hate You Too

18. Patterns, Patterns, Patterns

Ashley raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"What are you gonna do here? Since. . Ivy and Andrew aren't qualified and all?"

"That's a great question—I actually have my own investigative team, so they're going to handle everything. Ivy and Andrew are just. . overindulgent."

"Yeah." Ivy nodded. "Anyway, I'm gonna be recording what you have to say, and just know—you're not the only ones who must attest to Arthur's behavior."

"We called some people that Arthur mentioned in his journal during his enlistment—specifically the ones that he interacted with."

Ivy placed two microphones on the table—one for Matt, one for whoever he'd interrogate. She connected them to her laptop and sat next to Andrew. "Ashley, you're going first." Ashley sat in front of Matt while the other femmes just sat together.

"State your name, age, date of birth and affiliation with the suspect" Matt began.

"My name is Ashley Chu, I'm twenty-three, I was born on June 9th, 1995 and I was in a relationship with Arthur Lindfelt."

"How long were you two together?"

"Uh, for like two months. After that we were on and off—but mostly off. I couldn't stand that man for a while. Still can't."

"How did you two first meet?"

"Well. . . God, this is so humiliating; I talked to him for the first time after our shared history class in high school. I remember our history teacher. . . Can I say his name?"

"It's gonna get redacted anyway," Ivy replied.

"Yeah, our history teacher made me sit next to Arthur after Arthur got into a fight with one of the jocks because—and I'm not making this up; he called him 'Arthur Lindfelt' instead of 'Arthur Gale'."

"And why would that upset him?"

"Arthur really hates his dad, so he made people call him by his late mom's maiden name, which is Gale. And looking back at it now, that was just. . . so weird. It was weird to me then, it was weird to me now, like, seriously. Anyway, I saw the last few minutes of that fight, and. . Arthur then reminded me of the Fallen Angel painting, and the whole moment was like. . life imitating art. I gave him my number after that history class. I asked him out and we talked on Friday at the local library. We hung out together secretly for two weeks. Our relationship was official on November 13th, 2012, and we made it public three days later."

"Describe the nature of your relationship."

"To me; he was a misunderstood boy that just needed a little love in his life. To him; I was a girl he could use as a mindless fleshlight that obeys his every word."

"So. . one-sided?"

"Absolutely one-sided."

"On the 'obeys his every word' part, when I received this case I read a little bit of Mr. Lindfelt's journal with my wife Devon—"

Ashley's eyes widened. "Devon read it?"

"Yeah, I mean, nothing gets past her. I read one of his entries—specifically the one where he speaks about you, and he says that you had few beliefs, and you didn't really pose a challenge to him intellectually."

"Oh yeah—he said I had few beliefs just like he did apparently, like he didn't have way too much to say, but he didn't say exactly what I believed in. I remember that part."

"Was that true?"

"No. Absolutely not. I did challenge him intellectually. Our first meet-cute was literally me acting like his therapist. He was like, "Oh my God, my life sucks and I hate my dad," and I was trying to give him solutions—but clearly he didn't want to hear it. That's the thing about him; he acts like every woman or femme on this earth should worship him like a god. He's not a god. He's a fucking idiot."