The Longer The Fall Aviva Gat (scary books to read .txt) 📖

participating in the usual honeymoon activities in bed. Their honeymoon would be more cultured, it would enrich their knowledge of history and culinary skills. Of course, they would have sex a few times—how could they not? Madeline assumed that sex would happen on the first and fifth day of their trip: the first because it would be obligatory and the fifth because they were attending a wine tasting workshop that had promised to be romantic and aphrodisiacal. It just wouldn’t be right if they didn’t imbibe in intercourse afterwards.

On the way to Italy, they had a two-day stopover in New York. It would be their first trip to New York together. During their relationship, Madeline had flown across country a few times by herself—once for a YRNF event that she had spoken at, another time for a friend’s wedding, and another time on her way to visit her family upstate. Brandon had offered to join her on these trips, but since none were more than a weekend long, Madeline had suggested he didn’t trouble himself. The jetlag, missed work, it wasn’t worth it. Besides, Madeline would have more fun without needing to babysit him, she teased. After all, he wouldn’t know anyone at the wedding she was going to. The YRNF event would surely be boring, it wasn’t like the events the California chapter hosted. Each time Brandon obliged and kissed Madeline goodbye after driving her to the airport.

Madeline had enjoyed her short weekends away in New York. She met up with old friends and glowed as she told them stories of California sunshine. She recognized the jealousy in their eyes as they listened to her talk about Brandon and how wonderful life was with him. Talking had even convinced her how perfect Brandon and their life together was. During her trips, she had never contacted Hunter, nor did any of her friends bring him up. It was like he had never existed.

Madeline was excited for her first trip to New York with Brandon. She had promised to show him around Columbia and her old neighborhood. They would also spend time in Central Park and attend happy hour with her old friends. She was an excellent tour guide and Brandon was an even better tourist. Brandon had listened intently as she weaved through the university’s campus, telling stories of her memories. The quad where she would often read and once a bird pooped right on her book. The library cubicle she had fallen asleep in more than once. The statue she had once climbed and given a speech from during a rally for young republicans. She also showed him her old apartment, noticing that the small patch of dirt out front had been covered in grass. And she bought him a popsicle at the corner market where she had taken the kids from her downstairs neighbor.

Afterwards, they took the Subway down to Midtown to get drinks at a bar Madeline used to visit at least once a week. Her friends came, all hugging her and Brandon. Some had also just gotten back after being in California for their wedding. The ones who hadn’t, had never met Brandon before. One drink turned into two, which turned into four. Madeline and Brandon had both eased up on their rule of sipping one drink for an entire night. After all, this occasion was purely for fun—there was no need for professionality, no chance of running into people they needed to impress at that small dive.

“You’ve changed so much,” one of her friends—who hadn’t attended her wedding—casually mentioned. This was a friend who had known Hunter well when Madeline and he were together. A friend who had respected their relationship and treated Hunter as an equal. This friend didn’t mean much by the statement, didn’t mean to send Madeline’s head spiraling while trying to discern the statement’s meaning, but that was what happened. Was this friend accusing Madeline of something? Had she changed for the worse? For the better? Madeline just raised her almost empty glass to cheer her friend while shouting “To change!” as loud as she could. Her friend giggled, meeting her cheers and slurping down the rest of her happy hour drink.

After a few more rounds, Brandon and Madeline stumbled out of the bar and into a taxi back to their hotel. With his arm around her, Brandon nuzzled her neck and began a conversation that most couples would have had before their wedding.

“Your friends must really miss you,” he said, kissing her collarbone as the cab inched forward in evening rush hour.

“I miss them too,” she said, enjoying the kisses, but with ample hesitation of what they would bring later.

“You have a lot of good friends,” he continued and Madeline agreed. “Didn’t you ever date any of them?” Madeline had many male friends. An occupational hazard of working in consulting and being active in the Republican Party.

“No! Of course not!” Madeline giggled. “Who did you think I would have dated? Gabe? He’s a full head shorter than I am! Mark and his obsession with Star Wars?”

“What about Dan?” Brandon asked, bringing up another of her friends from the happy hour.

“Dan has been basically married since high school!” Madeline laughed and shook her head at the absurdity of her dating one of her friends.

“So you didn’t date anyone when you lived in New York?” Brandon asked, his digging turned from playful to more serious.

“Of course I dated!” Madeline responded, but quickly caught herself. “But no one serious. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. You know how New York is, everyone is so career-focused.”

Brandon had to agree. Everyone in New York seemed more focused on getting ahead than getting a family. Hell, most of Madeline’s friends (besides Dan) were single, married to their business suits and the corporate ladder.

“Let’s get pizza,” Madeline suggested and Brandon’s eyes lit up. He would love a slice of New York