Page 64 of The Midnight Frequency

“No, in fact, I would wholeheartedly advise everyone not to get themselves into your situation by never becoming betrothed in the first place. But you decided to bring hundreds of innocent bystanders in to celebrate your temporary chemical reaction. So here we are. Talking not about unusual species rituals, but your fiancé who doesn’t seem to even like you enough to get to know you.”

There was a pause on the line. Long enough for Jack to cut in.

“We have Madison on the line.”

She had something to berate me about, no doubt.

“Hello, Madison. What issue did you take with what I had to say now?”

“Well, I take issue with how you said it. But I actually agree with you for once.”

“Does anyone have an active thermostat reading for hell? It seems as though it may have frozen over.”

“Jamie, are you still there?” she asked.

“Yeah…”

“Sorry to pile on. But I think maybe you already knew what you were going to hear when you called in tonight. Because I think you’ve already thought these things in the back of your mind, but didn’t want to admit it.”

“I called about the rituals.”

“Into a talk radio show known for its cynical, if not downright mean, take on relationships,” Madison said.

“I thought you were the one who believed in love.”

“I do. But I think real love is… reciprocal. What is your fiancé’s favorite foods? His allergies? His preferences? I bet you can name them all. But can he do the same for you?”

There was a pause.

Then, like a lightbulb finally being tightened enough to turn on, “I don’t know.”

“I know this probably doesn’t feel good to admit this close to the wedding. But you deserve to marry someone who really wants to know you, who will remember the important details about you.”

“I’m not sure such a thing exists,” Jamie said.

“Precisely why you should learn to be content single.”

“No,” Madison said. She was so quick that it was almost as if she knew exactly what I would say. “Don’t listen to Silas here. He’s been single for so long he’s starting to recommend it as a lifestyle choice and not a personality defense mechanism.”

“I find it intriguing that our most ardent defenders of the false concept of love… are rarely current practitioners. Still single, are we, Madison?”

She didn’t rise to the bait, though.

“We both are. But at least I have my optimism. Does your cynicism keep you warm at night, Silas?”

“It keeps me from getting disappointed again and again. Can you say the same?”

“Maybe I do get disappointed. But disappointment means something happened worth getting disappointed over. I’d rather be disappointed than never experience anything worthwhile.”

“That is a strange way to describe repeated poor judgment.”

“Most people call that living, Silas.”

“Barely, Madison.”

There was a short pause at that, and I felt the swell of disappointment that I might have finally pushed her too far. Sure, I disagreed with just about everything she said. But I did enjoy our back-and-forth. It would be a shame if she didn’t call in again.

“Barely what?”