Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Francis rose from his seat in the lounge, checking his watch as he did. It was about time for him to wait by the operating room.

Sherilyn followed silently behind him, a shadow of concern in her steps.

"Francis," Caroline called out, rising from the bench and linking her arm through his. "Come sit down. You shouldn't be on your feet too much." "Alright."

A few steps away, Sherilyn watched them, a sense of surreal disbelief washing over her. Caroline, ever so self-serving and calculative, had once thrown herself into danger to save the Johnson brothers... Francis had mentioned that Gilbert's feelings for Caroline were out of gratitude.

It made Sherilyn wonder, what about Francis? Was his love for Caroline more about affection, or was it gratitude as well?

Or, could it be that love had blossomed from gratitude?

As dawn broke, Gilbert frowned and slowly opened his eyes.

His arm felt heavy, and glancing down, he saw Sherilyn asleep, her head resting on the edge of his bed, her arm around his.

Her hair, soft and shiny, draped over her shoulder.

Gilbert swallowed hard, a sudden sink in his heart.

Sensing his movement, Sherilyn stirred, propping herself up on her elbow.

Gilbert teased, flashing a half-smile. "You

wiped her mouth, then paused. There was

she glared at him.

for it," Gilbert

attempted to pull her hand away, but Gilbert held tight. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Sherilyn do but comply? Gilbert, in his madness, might

almost empty.

in the IV

Gilbert let go

quickly returned with a nurse and a

stirring ite "It's chicken soup, slow-cooked until the chicken fell apart. I shredded it so

up some soup, cooled it, and brought

hot. Go

obediently opened his mouth, his eyes crinkling with a

feeding it to him. Gilbert accepted eagerly, his smile broadening.

no longer being mad at him was a

make you not mad,

a moment but continued feeding

pampered by her, Gilbert