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?

fathomed her softened tone,

which is evident in her calculated words.

her carefully chosen words was

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

too, wish

words only muddies the

I concur that my husband maintains a

“It’s late, Ms. Weiss. Rest well. Perhaps in your dreams, you’ll succeed in

waiting for Yolanda’s retort,

and Damien with such

No way!

“Finished?”

Damien stood outside, exuding the scent of tobacco and the

checks flushed crimson. “You… you heard

“Mhmm.”

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

weakly pushed against him. “I’ve told you I’m not a

eyes, you’ll always be my dear, my little fool.”