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 mirror

Weiss knowingly played this game, which is evident in her calculated

carefully chosen

call was in pursuit of an accord regarding the issue of

too, wish for an amicable resolution.”

deliberate choice of words only muddies the waters between

concur that my husband maintains

well. Perhaps in your dreams, you’ll succeed in winning over

waiting for Yolanda’s retort,

to sow discord between her and Damien

No way!

“Finished?”

and the chill of the night air,

checks flushed crimson. “You… you heard

“Mhmm.”

the car, closing the door. His imposing frame once again enveloped Cherise. “My dear

told

eyes, you’ll always be my dear,