Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

“Think it over. If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll cover the cleaning bill,” Sherilyn said.

Gilbert was at a loss for words. That’s not what he meant at all!

Sherilyn didn’t want to engage further, her patience wearing thin. “I’m tired. I only want to shower and head to bed,” she retorted, her pace quickening as she moved away from him.

Gilbert frowned, his concem morphing into frustration as he involuntarily followed her.

He noticed Sherilyn entering the bathroom, a suitcase stationed at the door. She pulled out some fresh clothes and the toiletry bag, her movements efficient yet somehow weary

Gilbert’s frown deepened, an involuntary step bringing him closer “So, this is how you’ve been living these past few days?” he questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.

Clutching her clothes, Sherlyn nodded.

“What?” Gilbert couldn’t believe his ears. “What’s the deal? You’ve got a nice room but chose to rough it out here? What’s going on in head?”

Keeping her head down, Sherilyn avoided the question. “Can I take my shower now?!

“Hold on.” Suddenly, a thought struck Gilbert.

your

“Ha.” A smirk played on Gilbert’s lips, a glint of realization sparking in his eyes. “Are you trying to play the sympathy card here? Do you think I’d go easy on you by acting like this? Sherilyn, haven’t you given up yet?”

What did he mean by that?

It took Sherilyn several seconds to catch on, unsure. “You think I’m trying to gain sympathy to salvage our marriage?”

“What else?” Gilbert scoffed, mocking her with his question and shaking his head. “A spoiled girl who grew up in the comforts of the Johnson family like you can’t possibly endure this hardship without a reason.”

Comforts? Hardship?

Sherilyn scoffed internally, her response cold and detached, “Don’t worry, I’ve signed the divorce papers. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Thats for the best” Gilbert glared at her, his voice slow and mocking. “I’d advise you not to play any more games. This marriage is

overt

After saying that, he tumed and headed upstairs.

Behind him, Sherilyn stood silently, a cold laugh her only response. She knew she had to find a place for herself, and fast. It was time to

move out

Upstairs, in the master bedroom, after a shower, Gilbert paused while drying his hair, his fingers brushing his lips as if he could still feel Sherilyn’s soft touch.

A memory prompted him to search the medicine cabinet, where he found a brand–new, unopened ointment.

Hesitating for a while, he took the ointment and went downstairs.

Downstairs, Sherilyn was staring at her phone on the couch, the bank app open, showing a balance that offered little relief. When it rains, it pours.

“Sherilyn.” Gilbert approached, standing before her

Sherilyn quickly hid her phone. “is there something wrong? Is it about the couch?”

Gilbert snorted, “If you enjoy making yourself miserable, I won’t stop you”

He bent down, placing the ointment on the coffee table, and tapped it, pointing at her arm, “For the braises, use this.”

Sherilyn looked at him, surprised, doubting he was there to deliver medicine.

Gilbert’s voice was cold, “Despite your constant scheming and troublemaking, let’s get one thing straight. You got hurt tonight because of me, so consider the ointment an apology”

Then, he turned and walked upstairs, pot another word exchanged.

Sherlyn remained silent until his footsteps faded away. She glanced at the ointment on the coffee table, feeling a mix of emotions Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Mr. Johnson was quite a gentleman, after all.

She tumed over, attempting to sleep again, leaving the ointment untouched.

The following moming, when Gilbert came downstairs, Sherilyn was nowhere to be seen.

He didn’t pay it much mind, but as he passed the living room, his gaze instinctively wandered toward the couch

Suddenly, he paused.