My Blind Husband

The man shook his head in mild bemusement, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It’s not particularly urgent.”

Cherise’s response was quick and relentless. “Still, let’s give it a listen. What if it’s truly significant?”

“Mr. Whitlock emphasized its importance when he contacted me…”

Unable to dissuade her, Damien closed the bedroom door with a resigned sigh, then proceeded to remove his coat before reclining on the bed, drawing Cherise close into his embrace.

“How about this: we listen together, and afterward, you can get some rest?”

Cherise nodded in agreement, her lips slightly pursed. “Alright.”

As Damien inhaled the scent of her hair, he pressed play on the voice recorder—

The night enveloped them in quietude as they lay intertwined.

Cherise’s expression oscillated between shock and embarrassment, while Damien’s eyes held a hint of amusement.

The room was filled with the voices emanating from the recorder.

“Your husband isn’t aware of our rendezvous, correct?”

“No, he’s oblivious, and he’ll remain so… Does your wife suspect anything?”

“That old hag, ugh!”

love, come kiss me.”

“Embrace me…”

found herself

the

they were, listening to the clandestine affair of unfamiliar voices.

volume escalating and the content becoming more…

the woman’s voice

even beneath the covers, the sounds persisted,

the blanket.

an eyebrow, sensing her embarrassment, and decided to tease her a bit. “But isn’t this what you wanted me to hear?”

the blanket. “Shall we

began to voice her frustration about Mr. Whitlock. “I thought… I thought Mr. Whitlock, being my

believed everything he said… but I never

her to this with

so good about listening to

How mortifying!

meant no harm,

a hint of amusement. “Didn’t you mention he

silently.

“Mm.”