My Blind Husband

“What… what do we do?” Emily’s voice quivered as the reporters furrow her brow and slip out of sight. drew closer, prompting Cherise to

Blake, his expression concerned, glanced at Emily’s flushed cheeks and teary eyes. “You little fool,”

With a gentle murmur, he embraced Emily just as the door swung open with a loud bang from outside.

The reporters, paying no attention to the room’s occupants, immediately began clicking their cameras, solely focused on capturing Cherise’s unguarded reaction.

Their anticipation for a flustered Cherise was palpable.

If mistaken, they would simply apologize.

But if Cherise stumbled, it would be front-page news!

Yet, they were in for a surprise.

In the dimly lit storage room, sunlight streamed through a narrow window, illuminating a couple locked in a passionate embrace atop a deserted desk.

The girl was draped over the young man’s navy blue coat, her own coat slipping off her arm as her cheeks flushed.

The young man fixed a cold stare on the reporters, his expression stern, his gaze chilling. “Leave!”

The reporters hurriedly retreated, with a few lingering to peer into the room.

The utility room, though compact, provided an unobstructed view.

With only the embracing couple visible, disappointment settled over the group as they apologized and left.

Alone, at last, Blake released Emily and closed the door to the utility room. NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

Cherise emerged from beneath the desk behind Emily, dusting herself off with a playful remark like we’re in a drama, doesn’t it?”

Blake blushed. “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

Glancing through the door crack at the journalists searching the area, he continued, “They’re thorough. scrutinizing every passing student.”

Turning to Cherise, he added, “We can’t stay hidden here forever.”

Cherise pursed her lips, eyeing the mop and bucket in the corner. “I have a plan. towards the exit.

Just a minute after his departure, Emily, skillfully disguised as a janitor, bore a bucket and mop in one hand while pushing a sizable trash can with the other, her trajectory slow and deliberate towards the refuse chute located at the rear exit.

In order to maintain her guise, Emily was liberally adorned with dust and grime, effectively obscuring her true identity.

Several journalists, keen on approaching, hesitated upon encountering the bedraggled trash can and Emily’s disheveled appearance.

Surely, they reasoned, the esteemed wife of Damien and paramour of Sebastian, Cherise, would not deign to conceal herself amidst such squalor, right?

Unbeknownst to the onlookers, Cherise was at that very moment crouched within a trash receptacle, pinching her nose in distaste as she listened intently to the commotion outside.

Suddenly, a flurry of rapid footsteps reverberated through the vicinity.

Initially disordered, the footfalls swiftly coalesced into a synchronized rhythm, indicating the presence of a well-disciplined unit in motion.

Ere long, the footsteps drew to a halt beside Cherise’s concealed position.

A furrow formed on her brow as she sensed an unsettling shift in the atmosphere.

There was a distinct cessation in the movement of the trash can, and Emily paused; her actions stilled.