My Blind Husband

“Many unfortunate events may have transpired between you and Mr. Lenoir afterward,” she began, her words measured and deliberate, “but he has tirelessly endeavored to reconcile and has never ceased searching for you.”

“As for what you mentioned, Alexis being the child of you and your first love….” Frances shook her head with a knowing smile. “That scenario is even more implausible,” she asserted calmly.

Her hands tightly clasped together, Cherise tilted her head inquisitively as she locked eyes with Frances. “Why is it impossible?” she questioned, her brow furrowing with curiosity.

With a serene smile, Frances proceeded to elucidate, placing the aromatherapy machine on the windowsill as she spoke. “Such fabrications are often concocted by men who lack common sense,” she explained patiently.

Cherise Turrowed her brow, her confusion evident as she continued to gaze at Frances, seeking further clarification and understanding.

As Frances positioned the aromatherapy machine on the windowsill, she turned to Cherise with a smile, preparing to elucidate. “These intricacies are often clearer to women,” she remarked softly.

“Consider this: Alexis is four and a half years old this year, born just under six months after Soren and Sera.

Frances paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle. “Pregnancy typically lasts ten months,” she continued, her tone gently guiding Cherise’s understanding.

With a subtle wink, she posed a thought-provoking question. “How could you have given birth to Alexis in such a short span after Soren and Sera?”

Cherise was rendered speechless.

be plausible and

pursed her lips, a realization dawning upon her that Sebastian had

guidance. “So. Frances,” she began tentatively, her voice tinged with uncertainty, “if both men have deceived you, which one

quickly composed herself and turned to face Cherise with a warm smile. “As a loyal servant of the Lenoir family, I would naturally advise you to choose

understand that may not be the answer you’re seeking.”

I were in your position,” she confessed, her eyes gleaming with mischief, “I wouldn’t choose either. Instead, I would feign illness to observe their

pursed in contemplation.

affirmed

tucked her into bed, her movements imbued with a sense of maternal care. “I may be old and thus tend to be

situations where both parties have deceived me, I would choose the one who consistently demonstrates kindness and concern for

deceived me, it may have been with good intentions rather than ulterior motives, she explained.

care when I am unwell, it

her eyes and contemplated deeply while lying on

validity of Frances’s perspective, yet a sense

wished to provide care,

her, Cherise

once was and cannot pretend to