Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

“Sherilyn?” Gilbert called out, tempted to shake Sherilyn awake and get straight answers. “Come on, stop playing possum! Let’s talk this out!”

“Ugh, so loud!” Sherilyn groaned, swatting the air as if to shoo him away. “I want to sleep.”

Was she annoyed with him?

Gilbert couldn’t help but laugh despite himself. Why was he even arguing with someone. three sheets to the wind? “You’re just crashing here? Don’t you want a shower first?”

“A shower?” Sherilyn seemed to struggle with the concept, her thoughts as clear as mud. Surprisingly, she leaned closer to Gilbert.

“Do I stink?” she asked, her face inches from his, their noses almost touching.

Gilbert’s heart skipped a beat. What was she up to? He backed away slightly, his voice. faltering, “Just… talk properly, will you?”

But it was as if she hadn’t heard him. Pulling at her shirt collar, she insisted, “Come on, smell. I’m not stinky, right?”

Cornered with no escape, he caved, playing along. “Yeah, you smell just fine. Like roses.”

“Heh.” Sherilyn giggled, satisfied. “See now? I don’t need a shower. I’m just, um, naturally fragrant. I’m off to bed!” She raised her hand, waving lazily at him. “Night, Gil.”

His tie was dangling from her wrist.

Gilbert swallowed hard, stuttering out a “Good… night.”

Soon, the sound of steady breathing filled the room. Sherilyn had fallen asleep. From NôvelDrama.Org.

Gilbert stared down at her, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of alcohol, a smile tugging at his lips.

Almost without thinking, he reached toward her face, stopping short as he remembered she hated physical touch.

What w

was he doing? Was he seriously about to caress Sherilyn? Had he lost his mind? Abruptly, he stood and fled the room as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Staying calm, he reminded himself. There was no way he could fall for Sherilyn, not after all this time, not when their marriage had started on such indifferent terms. It was a moment of madness.

As dawn broke, Sherilyn stirred awake, her first venture into hard liquor leaving its mark. Rubbing her temples, she noticed a tie looped around her wrist.

A man’s accessory? Whose could it be? Flashes of the previous night flickered through. her mind.

She covered her mouth in shock. “No way, Gilbert?”

But that seemed impossible.

The man the night before had been too gentle, too kind. Gilbert could never be like that. It had to be Yates. After all, Yates had brought her back and even treated her to dinner. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Yes, it had to be Yates.

After a refreshing shower, she grabbed her room key and stepped out, bumping into

Gilbert and Yates.

Gilbert barely glanced at her, his usual aloof self.

“Sherilyn.” On the other hand, Yates greeted her with a smile. “Awake, huh? Accidentally, you had a bit too much of my drink last night. How’s your head?”

It had to be Yates.

Sherilyn smiled back, replying, “A slight headache. No big deal.” She stepped closer. “Yates, thanks for looking after me and getting me a room last night.”

What the fuck! Gilbert was stunned, his gaze snapping at Sherilyn. What was she rambling about? He was the one who had cared for her the previous night, not Yates!

After a night’s rest, was she playing the amnesia card with him?

“Uh…” After catching the mix–up, Yates tried to set the record straight. “Sherilyn, about last night…”