Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Sherilyn frowned and waved a dismissive hand. "No thanks, I'm not drinking."

There might be a bun in the oven, and certain things were now off-limits.

She even took Gilbert's drink away, "You shouldn't drink either."

"Mr. Johnson." Someone approached, all business acquaintances of Gilbert.

During the small talk, glances kept sneaking over to Sherilyn.

"Mr. Johnson, who's this lady? Haven't seen her with you before."

At that, Gilbert's expression turned chilly as he took Sherilyn's hand, about to say something when he felt a tight grip.

Sherilyn was holding onto his arm, touching her temple.

"Gilbert, I'm feeling a bit off."

"What's wrong?" Gilbert saw her pale face and immediately wrapped her in his arms. "Let's get you somewhere to sit down!" With a swift motion, he scooped her up.

"Hey!" Sherilyn's face flushed, caught between struggling and not daring to, "What are you doing? People are watching."

"Let them look." Gilbert frowned, utterly unconcerned.

"You're not feeling well, why should I care about them watching?"

Ignoring the curious and envious glances, Gilbert carried Sherilyn to a lounge area, setting her on a sofa.

"How are you feeling? Anything specific? Should we head to the hospital?"

that serious." Sherilyn managed a

to the

here,

"Gilbert..."

you like." Gilbert grinned,

paused, then smiled, "I meant to say, for the drink... just get me some milk. I don't feel

her cheek, "I'll be

and Sherilyn watched him go,

Was this

dream? Even in

would treat her this

en hist

"Sherilyn?"

to see Edgar, both

smiled, gesturing to the seat across from her, "May

"Of course."

down, glancing in Gilbert's direction, "He seems to

wasn't a question, but

how Gilbert was with her, very attentive

his

a bit from h now

cousin

about how

sincerely added, "I'm glad to see

Standing

prepared

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