Dark Secrets of the Blind Husband

Yolanda’s voice dripped with flirtation in the delicate cocoon of her ear. “Damien, you mentioned you’d come over once Cherise drifts into slumber. When might that be?”

“I’m a bit weary. When do you think Cherise will doze off?”

“Why not utilize the sleeping pills you’ve prepared? Didn’t you prepare them?”

Cherise offered no reply.

She simply listened, her silence a canvas for Yolanda’s monologue, punctuated by soft utterances of “Mm,” “Ah,” “Okay.”

“Excellent. Let’s convene at our usual haunt tomorrow!”

Confronted with Yolanda’s buoyant tone, Cherise sighed inwardly, rubbing her temples. “Ms. Weiss.”

Finally, Yolanda exclaimed through the line, “You are…”

“I am Cherise.”

With the phone nestled in her palm, Cherise sighed again, her brow furrowing.

While she didn’t consider her initial “hello” particularly loud, it wasn’t muted.

If her voice reached Yolanda’s ears, why did Yolanda persist in this charade?

softened tone, which could

this game, which is evident in her calculated words.

her carefully chosen words

I presumed your late call was in pursuit of an accord regarding the issue

spouse, I, too, wish for

of words only muddies the waters

I concur that my husband maintains

Ms. Weiss. Rest well. Perhaps in your dreams, you’ll succeed in winning over your

Yolanda’s retort, Cherise terminated

discord between her and Damien with such

No way!

“Finished?”

door swung open at an indeterminate time. Damien stood outside, exuding the scent of tobacco and the chill of the night air, a smile gracing his lips. “Just like the conduct of Mrs.

flushed crimson. “You…

“Mhmm.”

smile, Damien entered the car, closing the door. His imposing frame once again enveloped Cherise. “My dear little fool, you’ve grown, defending the honor of Mrs.

told you I’m not

you’ll always be my dear, my