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?

Cherise never fathomed her softened tone, which could mirror Damien’s deep

which is evident in her calculated

behind her carefully chosen words was

I presumed your late call was in pursuit of an accord

his spouse, I, too, wish for an amicable

your deliberate choice of words only muddies the

I concur that my husband maintains a distance

Rest well.

for Yolanda’s retort, Cherise terminated the call.

and Damien with such crude

No way!

“Finished?”

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

“You…

“Mhmm.”

frame once again enveloped Cherise. “My dear little

him. “I’ve told you I’m not a fool!”

always be my dear, my