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?

never fathomed her softened tone, which could

Weiss knowingly played this game, which is evident in her

carefully chosen words

call was in pursuit of an accord regarding the

I, too, wish for an amicable resolution.”

deliberate choice of words only muddies the waters

that my husband maintains

tone turned icy. “It’s late, Ms. Weiss. Rest well. Perhaps in your dreams, you’ll succeed in winning over your

retort, Cherise terminated

and Damien

No way!

“Finished?”

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

“You… you heard everything?”

“Mhmm.”

imposing frame once again enveloped Cherise. “My dear

him. “I’ve told

eyes, you’ll always be