Marrying the Man in the Dark

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?

never fathomed her softened tone,

game, which is

carefully

offered a faint smile. “Ms. Weiss, I presumed your late call was in pursuit of an accord regarding the issue

wish for an amicable

your deliberate choice of words only muddies the waters between

husband maintains

this declaration, her tone turned icy. “It’s late, Ms. Weiss. Rest well. Perhaps in your dreams, you’ll

for Yolanda’s retort, Cherise terminated

her and

No way!

“Finished?”

an indeterminate time. Damien stood outside, exuding the scent of tobacco and the

crimson. “You… you heard everything?”

“Mhmm.”

car, closing the door. His imposing frame once again

pushed against him. “I’ve told

you’ll always be my dear, my little