The Blindfold – Salonica Night
Sofia stood outside Diamond Suites, the cold Salonica wind biting her cheeks as if trying to stop her. But she was determined. She had planned this night, every small step of it, and now there was no way back.
Inside, everything felt too clean, too bright. A place made for secrets to happen quietly.
She had been with Nikos for eight years. Love was still there, real and heavy… but something inside her wanted to shake it, test it, see what lived under the surface. Not to replace him. Not to betray him. But to look at their marriage from the outside and the inside at the same time.
Upstairs, she prepared the room: one red-shaded lamp, no music, no perfume that wasn’t theirs. She checked the curtains—they were heavy, velvet, shut tight. For now.
Then came the message:
“I arrived.”
Elena entered silently. Younger than Sofia, with eyes that avoided confrontation, like someone who knew how to enter other people’s lives only as a shadow. Sofia liked that. Elena didn’t want anything for herself. She was here to follow the rules.
A few minutes later, Nikos arrived. He looked confused, then calm when Sofia touched his face gently.
“Trust me,” she whispered.
She tied the blindfold slowly, letting him feel her fingers more than the cloth. When his sight disappeared, Sofia felt something awaken inside her—something cool and sharp like a knife, but elegant like a violin.
Elena stepped closer. No introduction. Just breath. Sofia didn’t stand back. She stayed near him, controlling the pace, the distance, the energy.
When Elena leaned toward him, their lips meeting softly, Sofia made her move.
She walked to the window.
She grabbed the heavy curtains.
And opened them wide.
The city lights of Salonica poured into the room like cold fire, exposing everything in their red glow. They were no longer in the safety of darkness. They were on display—at least to the sky, to the night, to the sea wind watching from outside.
Nikos, blindfolded, didn’t know. Elena did.
As the lights fell across her face and body, something changed in her expression. She stopped being shy. She looked at Sofia—only Sofia—like she suddenly understood the real point of tonight. She became part of Sofia’s test, not just a guest in it.
Sofia didn’t touch her. She didn’t need to.
She only watched, like a director watching actors follow her script exactly how she imagined. Elena’s breathing grew heavier, her body reacting to the moment, to the show, to the permission of being seen under the city lights. Not through touch, but through the power of being watched.
She was lost in it—not because of Nikos, but because of the way Sofia had created the scene.
Sofia understood then that she wasn’t testing Nikos alone. She was testing herself. Testing how far she could stand outside her own story and still be the one writing every line.
Later, when it was finished and the room had quiet again, Elena left without a word. She avoided looking at Nikos, but she looked once, deeply, at Sofia—as if Sofia had opened something inside her too.
Sofia untied the blindfold. Nikos blinked into the red city light spilling through the open window.
“What was this?” he asked, voice low.
Sofia closed the curtains slowly, almost like sealing a secret back into darkness.
“A mirror,” she said.
“We just saw ourselves from the outside
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