My Blind Husband

“It’s not due to my experience,”

Yolanda calmly asserted, “but rather, the inevitable decay that awaits anything left unattended.”

“Even if it’s not me, there will be someone else.”

With these words, she lowered her head and tenderly patted Heather’s face, feigning compassion. “Don’t you agree?”

Heather was in such agony that she could barely speak.

The pain clouded her comprehension of Yolanda’s conversation with Cherise.

So when Yolanda sought confirmation, and Heather emitted a low, hoarse “Mm,” it was more a reflex than a conscious response.

“You see, even your friend acknowledges it.”

Yolanda chuckled softly, squeezing the cotton swab as she applied the medicine to Heather’s wounds.

“Ah-!”

Heather cried out in agony.

“But one must exercise caution in choosing companions.”

Yolanda glanced at Mr. Whitlock, who promptly moved to restrain Heather’s flailing arm.

“Better treatment options are available, yet Mrs. Lenoir recommended futile remedies for your friend.”

be associated with

“regrettable,” imbuing her

jaw. She understood that Yolanda’s “regrettable” referred

with Cherise that Heather found herself in this

“Yolanda.”

“Let’s settle our

“Is that so?”

to Cherise. “How does Mrs. Lenoir

desire only Damien.” Yolanda responded bluntly,

candor left no room for misinterpretation.

once more, accusing, “So you

she admonished.

maintained her composure. “Kenny, slap

was Mr. Whitlock’s

as Yolanda gave the command, Mr. Whitlock’s hand rose, delivering three resounding slaps to Heather’s face.

blows left Heather dizzy and momentarily speechless.

forward and attempt

she, a woman, for

aside, causing her to

with the ground, a pair of gentle

“Are you alright?”

male voice reached her ears as the

and respectful, showing no hint of impropriety.