My Blind Husband

Cherise felt a warm flush creep into her cheeks as she glanced at the scattered clothes, memories of the previous night flooding her mind like a rushing tide.

Quietly, she retreated to the bathroom for a shower, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon her. She couldn’t help but blame Mr. Whitlock for the predicament they found themselves in.

Why had he insisted on them listening to that recorder together?

In the end…

Ultimately, she found herself gravitating towards Damien of her own volition.

Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this entire debacle was not entirely her fault–Mr. Whitlock’s meddling had set this chain of events into motion.

After her shower, Cherise’s phone rang, signaling an incoming call from Mr. Whitlock.

“Mrs. Lenoir,” inquired Mr. Whitlock with a tone that held a tinge of apprehension, “Have you and Mr. Lenoir had the chance to peruse the recording I provided together, as I suggested?”

With a sardonic curve gracing her lips, Cherise responded, “Indeed, we have, Mr. Whitlock.”

“Mr. Whitlock,” Cherise continued, her voice tinged with a knowing edge, “It appears your spouse and Mr. Samson share a rather peculiar rapport; would you not agree?”

Taken aback by the revelation, Mr. Whitlock stammered, “How did you come to learn of my wife’s association with Samson…”

interjected sharply, “The recording you submitted, was it not their voices that resonated within

swiftly terminated the conversation, leaving Mr.

his office, Mr. Whitlock

Cherise received feature his wife and Samson?

to Samson only the day

a flurry of realization, he hastily dialed a

“Good day, sir.”

the receiver, laden with grief. “I am his spouse. Sammy was involved in a vehicular accident this morning he didn’t

as he slumped in his chair, the weight of

the end in more ways

herself by gathering the scattered clothes and starting the washing machine before making her way downstairs.

greeted her with

tired last night, so I prepared a nutritious breakfast for

at the array of breakfast options spread out on the table behind Frances–Italian, Western, meat, vegetarian… it

aback by the extravagance and struggled

she finally managed to ask, a hint of

a tad

else, just let