Dark Secrets of the Blind Husband

Lucy exhaled a smoke ring. “I want to experiment and see if there are still remnants of your memories lingering within you even when experiencing amnesia. By starting from these fragments, perhaps you. can expedite the process of recovering your memory.

“Pay no heed to those voices outside insinuating that Damien doesn’t wish for your memory to return,” the woman stared at Cherise intently. “Truth be told, Damien is yearning most fervently for your memory to be restored.”

Cherise pressed her lips together, sensing a warmth in certain recesses of her heart. She managed to muster a wry smile. “Is that so?” In her mind echoed Damien’s chilling words from the previous day when he had instructed her to regard him as an adversary. She pursed her lips once more. “I haven’t noticed.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Lucy sneered. “Your animosity towards him blinds you, so naturally, you can’t perceive it.” Rising from her seat, Lucy unlatched the window, inviting in the crisp autumn breeze. “I can empathize with Damien. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to regain your memories. He simply wishes to approach it with greater sensitivity.”

her skin. “Because many memories from your past may inflict pain upon you,” she elaborated. “Look at what’s happening now. The last time we spoke on the phone, you were blissfully unaware of what had happened with your mother or

mirror and presenting it to Cherise. “Take a good look at yourself. Since waking up this morning, you haven’t washed your face or brushed your teeth. You look exhausted, as though you have a lot on your mind. Aren’t you constantly grappling with inner turmoil, questioning why things unfolded

her bore little resemblance to the Cherise of yesterday. Just twenty-four hours prior, she could have easily donned overalls and styled her hair into pigtails, accompanying Blake to the library to catch a glimpse of the

the mirror seemed to embody years of weariness and uncertainty. With a resigned sigh, she pushed the mirror aside. She rose to attend to her morning routine, resolving to brush her teeth, cleanse her face, and

casually against the bathroom door, observing Cherise’s actions. “You’re aging. A twenty-five-year-old woman still needs to prioritize self-care.” She paused. allowing her words to sink in. “Now, do you grasp why Damien has always sought to tenderly guide

prematurely, disregarding your emotional well-being. His aim? Simply to drive a wedge between you and Damien. Someone who