My 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?

her softened tone, which could

game, which is

her carefully chosen words

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

spouse, I, too, wish for

words only muddies the waters between you and my husband.”

husband maintains

Weiss. Rest well. Perhaps in your

waiting for Yolanda’s retort, Cherise terminated

to sow discord between her and Damien with

No way!

“Finished?”

car door swung open at an indeterminate time. Damien stood outside, exuding the scent of tobacco and the chill of the night air,

checks flushed crimson. “You… you heard everything?”

“Mhmm.”

the door. His imposing frame once again enveloped Cherise.

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

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