The Longer The Fall by Aviva Gat (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📕

started years ago when Madeline was in New York on a business trip. She didn’t often take business trips—the consulting firm she worked at had offices in every major city, there was rarely a need to send someone to a new location—so this in and of itself was unusual and led Brandon to be on high alert for anything else that veered from the norm.

The couple had been texting throughout her first day in New York. She told him about her jog in Central Park (everything was in bloom!), the lunch she had with the CEO of the firm’s potential client. She even told him she was going to see Othello in Central Park with an old friend (Brandon had assumed this old friend was female). But the texting stopped somewhere around the end of the workday and didn’t commence again until the following morning. It was a Saturday morning and Brandon was alone with the kids. He got them up and dressed and took them to the zoo just like he had promised Madeline he would do. He took pictures in front of the giraffes, the zebras and kangaroos. He videoed Noah scratching his armpits and going ooh ooh ahh ahh in front of the gorillas. All the pictures, he sent to Madeline. She responded curtly, cute! Fun! Miss you! But the text messages had given him a funny feeling. They were shorter than what he was used to and too many exclamation points. Madeline was not an exclamation point over-user. He asked her what she was doing that Saturday in New York and she said she was getting a manicure and pedicure and just relaxing on her own for the weekend.

Brandon thought it must be the stress getting to Madeline. He had sensed that things had been difficult lately even though she would never let on. Being a mother and an ambitious career woman, not even mentioning her candidacy for the senate, would be tough on anyone. So Brandon did what good husbands do when their wives are juggling too much: he called her hotel and asked if he could schedule Madeline a massage in her room for the next morning.

“Would you like it to be a couple’s massage?” the receptionist asked when scheduling the spa treatment.

“Oh, no, I’m not there with my wife,” Brandon responded. The receptionist on the other side of the country went silent. “Hello? Everything all set?”

“Of course, sir,” the receptionist responded. “We will have a masseuse in the room Sunday morning at 9:00 a.m.” Brandon hung up the phone feeling proud of himself for doing something so nice and thoughtful for his wife. Surely she would appreciate it and it would help her relax before her busy day on Monday. Brandon didn’t think twice about the awkward silence he received from the hotel receptionist.

Madeline was pleasantly surprised by the massage. It was so thoughtful that it made her feel extremely guilty about her transgression that weekend. She promised herself she would never ever betray Brandon again and that she would work harder to appreciate all the wonderful things about him. Her texting after that improved, making Brandon feel even better that his gesture did the trick and got Madeline back to her normal self. He was eager to see her when she returned. Have a good flight! Wine awaits when you return, he texted before her plane took off and she responded with a heart.

Her flight was delayed and Brandon was home with the bottle of wine he had brought from his family’s vineyard. The boys were asleep and he had the wine aerating for Madeline’s arrival when the house phone rang. They rarely got calls to the house, so Brandon answered unsure of who it could be.

“Mr. Thomas?”

“This is he.”

“I’m happy to hear you had a good flight,” the voice on the other side said. “This is Amanda from The Langham. It appears you left your jacket in the room during your stay this weekend. If you could provide an address, we will ship it to you.”

This time Brandon was silent. “Mr. Thomas? A black leather Levi jacket? Do you recall?”

Brandon didn’t have a black leather Levi jacket. He wore a blazer or peacoat, something that wouldn’t look out of place in an office. “Oh, right,” he responded and provided the address to his office so he could receive the coat without Madeline knowing. He thanked Amanda for the hotel’s excellent service and continued waiting with the aerated wine until Madeline arrived. When she did, she was extra affectionate and the couple took the wine to their bedroom where they had—what Brandon believed was—passionate, explosive sex. He all but forgot about the jacket until it arrived on his desk a few days later.

At first he thought it was a gift. Had Madeline bought him a jacket in New York? But it wasn’t new. It wasn’t even in the kind of shape that could be considered vintage. The elbows were worn, there was a tear in the inside lining. There must have been a mistake—maybe the jacket belonged to the guest who previously stayed in Madeline’s room? Or a guest from a different room altogether? Brandon searched the pockets and pulled out a small card. Smith and Sons Landscaping. There was no name on the card so Brandon Googled the business. It had a basic, amateur website, boasting about the company’s services. He learned the company was based in Harlem and owned by Bill Smith—an elderly man who started the business mowing lawns when he was a teen. He also learned that Bill Smith had retired due to backpain caused by years of work as a landscaper and that the business was being run by Hunter Williams. The website had a picture of Hunter, a strong, smiling African American man standing in front of a perfectly trimmed rose bush. Brandon couldn’t see what connection these people could have to Madeline,