My Blind Husband

You’re home, Cherise greeted Damien as he entered.

Her eyes, still carrying traces of sleepiness but unable to hide their innate clarity and brightness, as she fixed them on him. “Did you eat?”

“I grabbed a light bite at the office,” Damien replied, gently tucking her in with a thin blanket. I’ve told you not to wait up for me.”

“It’s already past ten,” he remarked, noting the lateness of the hour.

*If I hadn’t come back tonight, were you planning to sleep at the dining table?” Damien queried a hint of amusement in his tone.

Feeling a twinge of embarrassment, Cherise hesitated before admitting, “I have something to discuss with you.

Furrowing his brow, Damien inquired, “Why didn’t you call me if it was urgent?”

“I thought it would be better to talk in person,” Cherise explained as she rose from the bed.

Damien sighed in exasperation. “If it couldn’t wait, you could have asked me to come home earlier.

Cherise’s lips formed a slight pout, her voice tinged with hesitation. “I was concerned that… I might disturb your work if you were busy.”

After expressing her thoughts, she looked up at him with a gentle smile, her eyes reflecting. innocence and clarity. “I don’t mind waiting a bit longer. I have ample time.”

Damien furrowed his brow as he peered down at the petite figure seated on the bed.

The soft light filtering through the lampshade illuminated her pure and fair visage, accentuating her ethereal beauty.

A tender sensation stirred within Damien’s heart.

He gently lifted her slender form without hesitation and cradled her in his arms?

“Silly girl,” he murmured softly.

Damien held Cherise close, his embrace so tight that she struggled to speak.

“Please be gentler,” she managed to utter, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can hardly breathe.”

I apologize, he said in a deep voice, expressing his regret.

With care, he gently placed her back on the bed.

“Did you want to talk about something?” All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

The man perched on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady as he regarded her. “What’s on your mind?”

“There’s someone named Mr. Whitlock, the former director of the research institute where 1 used to work,” Cherise explained, retrieving a voice recorder from the bedside table and passing it to Damien. “He said we should listen to this together.”

“He emphasized its importance, and Yolanda arranged for him to pass it to you through me before she left Adania,” she added.

Damien accepted the voice recorder, his brow furrowing in concern. “Yolanda gave this to you?”

“Yes,” Cherise confirmed, her lips pursing.

“He specifically instructed that I shouldn’t listen it alone and that you must listen with me. “He specifically instructed that I shouldn’t listen Ait

Damien glanced at her with a hint of helplessness. “You stayed up just for this?”

Cherise’s nightly routine typically led her to bed by 8:30 p.m.

Since her memory loss, her life had fallen back into familiar patterns–early to bed and early to rise, waking around five in the morning.

However, tonight was different. Despite the late hour, she found herself still seated at the dining table, caught up in the mysterious matter presented by Mr. Whitlock, a task she couldn’t even remember.

Unconsciously, Damien glanced at the time.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, much later than their usual bedtime.

A sense of unease crept over him as he gently squeezed her shoulder. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?”

Cherise remained on the bed, held by Damien’s presence.

Yet, she met his gaze with unwavering determination. I’m not tired.”

“You’re lying,” Damien teased, lightly pinching her nose. “Your bloodshot eyes betray you. Do you truly believe I wouldn’t notice?”

But… Cherise faltered, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at the voice recorder in his hand, her expression serious and steadfast.

“But this…

“Let’s discuss it tomorrow,” Damien suggested, sensing her hesitance.